By the time dinner is served, the conversation flows more easily. Joel tells a story about a mix-up at their first fundraiser, and when Mariel asks about Sloane, I manage to talk about my sister without sounding like a robot. There might be some mother-hen vibes, but no one seems to mind.
Avah catches my eye across the table, and her small nod feels like a victory.
The food is amazing, but I’m too busy watching Avah work the proverbial room to care. The sharp-tongued woman who takes me down a peg at every opportunity is naturally warm and engaging. She deploys her snarky humor like a strategy, each laugh and compliment perfect for the moment.
This is her gift, I realize. I’ve spent my career building systems that connect people through technology. She does it effortlessly. Screw the algorithm.
I’m mesmerized.
For all my success and the resources at my disposal, I’ve never been able to accomplish what she is at this moment. But when she catches me staring and raises an eyebrow in silent question, I look away, afraid of what she might see in my gaze. My gratitude butalso my desire, which scares the piss out of me so who knows how she’d react.
As the dessert plates are cleared, Mariel glances at her watch. “I’m afraid we have to cut this short. Joel and I have an early flight tomorrow.”
“Back to Denver?” Avah asks.
“For a few weeks,” Joel confirms. “Then we’ll be heading up to the mountains to get ready for the caregiver camp.”
“We’re scouting for a permanent location,” Mariel adds. “So the families in our community feel like they’re coming home each summer.”
“You’re looking at building your own facility?” I keep my voice neutral, even as my pulse quickens. This is a step I could support.
“Looking is all we can do right now.” Joel’s mouth twists. “But we’ll figure it out eventually. The plan is to expand our in-person offerings once we have a permanent home.”
“I’m sure you’ll get there,” I assure him.
Mariel’s eyes meet mine, and I imagine her comparing the billionaire who showed up tonight with the reputation that preceded me.
“When are you two heading back?” she asks.
Avah hesitates, and I realize she’s living in the same suspended bubble as me—where the outside world doesn’t exist, and the future is a problem for later.
“A few more days,” I hear myself say. “I booked us a helicopter tour of the island tomorrow.”
Avah blinks. I didn’t tell her about the helicopter tour because I decided on it approximately three seconds ago. The concierge mentioned it earlier in my stay, and I’d filed it away as unnecessary frivolity. Priorities change. Mine have.
“That should be an adventure.” Mariel’s smile indicates she approves.
Joel rises from his chair, and I stand to shake his hand, shockedwhen he holds my grip a beat longer. “Call me the next time you’re in Colorado. I think we have more to discuss.”
“I will,” I say, like he hasn’t been actively avoiding meeting with me for nearly six months. “Thank you. For dinner, and for...” I trail off, unsure how to finish.
“Thank Avah,” Mariel says, her eyes warm as she turns to the woman who somehow made all this possible. “She’s remarkable.”
Fucking understatement of the century.
The walk back to the golf cart is quiet, a chorus of hidden insects loud in the darkness. I’m still processing how one simple dinner became the breakthrough I’d nearly given up hope of getting.
Because of Avah.
“I’ll drive,” I say when we reach the cart, my voice gravelly.
She slides into the passenger seat without argument or side-eye, and tips her head to watch the stars scattered across the tropical sky.
I guide us along the path slowly, in no rush to end this strange and wonderful night.
“Thank you,” I say finally. “What you did back there?—”
“I told you I’m a good schmoozer. Easy-peasy.”
