“What did you really want to do with Dig Greener? I assume it wasn’t supposed to be outdoor education.”
Ah. She wanted an actual conversation. Not the time for inappropriate thoughts that they’d agreed not to have anymore.
Out of habit, he punted. “You mean environment-based educational programs with an emphasis on green initiatives?”
As he intended, Faith laughed. But then she looked at him expectantly, clearly prepared to wait him out until he provided her with an actual answer. That tactic had been his undoing when they’d met as kids, and it seemed to be working again today. Because when Faith’s cheeks rounded into her small, private smile, the one that felt like it was just for him, he was putty. Always had been.
Complete honesty. Why not?
“Planting trees is important, but I wanted to do…more. Reach more people, develop more programs. Sustainability, community problem solving. That kind of thing. But it takes money and infrastructure to get something like that off the ground.”
“So that’s why you took a desk job.” She nodded like something had snapped into place for her. “Because you’d get resources you didn’t have at Protect Our Rainforests.”
Emotion lodged in his throat at her succinct explanation. Despite the years separating them, she understood his motivations almost as well as he did. Certainly better than his parents or his sisters, who still seemed a little confused about why he’d left POR to move back home. But Faith got that Digham was more than a simple desk job for him.
“Then a bossy blonde burst into my office, and here I am, getting ready to teach kids about conservation.”
She worried at her lower lip. “I hope you’re not too disappointed to be working with BUILD and not a recycling center or something.”
“Are you kidding? It’s perfect.”
He almost didn’t go on, but then he remembered standing in her bedroom the previous week and being bombarded with memories. They’d shared everything back then; who in the world would understand this better than Faith?
“I didn’t really figure out how to learn until I got out of the classroom. My college classes that took me into the field were”—he smoothed a thumb over his eyebrow as he considered how to phrase it—“they were the first time I felt like I belonged somewhere. Like my brain worked right.”
Her Cupid’s bow mouth curved downward. “Your brain always worked right.”
He snorted. “Not for algebra.” Or for long division or remembering his phone code or figuring out how early he needed to leave to be on time for things.
“Anyway, when the idea popped into my head in that board meeting, I saw it in an instant: I can help the kids who do better with hands-on learning. And there’s tons of research about the benefit of nature-based education programs. It’s good for their brains.”
Faith leaned forward, her moonlight hair falling around her face. “I don’t want to make things weird, but it’s truly an honor to get to help you do that.”
Then she smiled at him, and it was like the sun hitting early-morning fog. He smiled back, helpless to do anything else, and for a moment they weren’t exes or sort-of friends or even coworkers. They were Leo and Faith, Faith and Leo, as if they’d never been separated, never spent a moment apart, never broken each other’s hearts.
An electric chime sounded, and Faith blinked and looked away.
“Oh damn, is it four already?” Faith grabbed her phone and checked the time. “Let’s use my office to call William. Leave the binders; we can pick this back up when we’re done.”
He bit back a groan at the thought, and she gave a wicked laugh and ushered him through the door. The two of them were the only people in the BUILD suite today since most of her staff had taken other jobs to support themselves as the funds had dwindled, and it was taking time to hire them all back.
“Any last-minute things I need to know?” she asked as they headed down the hall.
“You’re going to love him.” He spoke without thinking, and she glanced at him curiously.
“Oh yeah?”
Why’d he have to go and say that out loud? He settled for grumbling, “All women do,” aware as he did that he was just making things worse.
Faith pursed her lips, but before she could ask any follow-up questions—probably something like, “Is that jealousy I hear?”—he pivoted. “You did review his résumé, right?”
His tone was accusatory, and it did its job of making her roll her eyes at him. “Of course. I was just wondering how you two met.”
She led him into her shoebox office, which was so crammed with filing cabinets and stacks of papers that she could barely close the door. She gestured to her desk where a stackable metal chair was placed next to a slightly nicer one on wheels. Apparently they’d be chatting with William cheek to cheek in front of her laptop.
“On a POR job site near Manaus in Brazil about seven years ago. It was our first assignment together, and we hit it off. Worked together ever since. He took over as supervisor when I moved here.”
For some reason he was reluctant to sing William’s praises too much, so he limited his remarks to job-based observations. Besides, William would have no problems selling himself once he was on the line.
