Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
I straighten my tie, checking my reflection in the mirror of my Boston apartment.
Six months ago, I wouldn't have believed this life was possible—splitting my time between Meadowbrook and Boston, juggling my role at Westcott with community commitments, and somehow managing to be happier than I've ever been.
"You look fine," Eva calls from the kitchen where she's pouring coffee into travel mugs. "Better than fine, actually. Extremely handsome and important."
I smile, watching her in the reflection. She's wearing one of my dress shirts over leggings, her hair piled messily on top of her head. Even in her most casual state, she takes my breath away.
"Nervous?" she asks, bringing me a mug.
"A little," I admit, accepting both the coffee and the kiss she offers. "This campaign launch is the biggest project I've handled for Westcott so far."
"And you're going to crush it." She straightens my already-straight tie, her touch lingering. "They're going to love what you've put together."
This is what I cherish most about our relationship—the unwavering belief Eva has in me. Not in James Adams, town golden boy or motivational speaker, but in me. The real me who sometimes gets nervous before big presentations and occasionally burns dinner when I'm distracted.
"I have you to thank for that." I pull her closer. "The campaign concept was your idea."
"Which you ran with and made even better." She taps her mug against mine in a toast. "That's why we're so good together. I throw out the wild ideas, and you shape them into something workable."
"The perfect partnership," I agree, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She's spent the last three days with me in Boston, working remotely while I prepare for today's presentation. Our arrangement—me in Boston Monday through Wednesday, back in Meadowbrook the rest of the week, with Eva joining me when her schedule allows—works better than I ever dared hope.
"Speaking of partnerships," I say, reaching into my pocket, "I have something for you."
Eva's eyes widen as I pull out a small velvet box. "James..."
"Don't worry, it's not an engagement ring." I open the box to reveal a key. "Yet. But I was hoping you'd consider making this arrangement a bit more... permanent."
She looks from the key to my face, her expression softening. "You want me to move in?"
"Just part-time, to start. Keep your place in Meadowbrook—I love it there too. But make this our Boston home. Together." I take her hand. "What do you think?"
Her answer is a kiss that nearly makes me forget about my important presentation. When we finally break apart, her eyes are shining.
"Yes," she says simply. "Absolutely yes."
"Yeah?" I can't help the grin spreading across my face.
"Yeah." She takes the key, turning it over in her palm. "I love that we're not rushing, that we're finding our own pace. Building our life in a way that works for us, not according to anyone else's timeline."
That's been our mantra these past six months—finding what works for us, regardless of convention or expectations.
It hasn't always been easy. There have been difficult conversations, compromises, moments of doubt.
But through it all, we've remained honest with each other. No filters, no careful editing.
"I need to get going," I say reluctantly, checking my watch. "Dinner tonight to celebrate?"
"Definitely. That little Italian place we found last month?"
"Perfect." I grab my briefcase and jacket. "I'll text you when the presentation's over."
She walks me to the door, rising on tiptoe for one last kiss. "Go show them what James Adams is really made of."
The presentation goes even better than I'd hoped. The Westcott executive team not only approves my campaign but increases the budget, impressed by the innovative approach. Robert Westcott himself pulls me aside afterward.
"This is exactly why we brought you on board, James," he says, clapping me on the shoulder. "Fresh thinking, impeccable execution, and the ability to get everyone excited about a vision."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity."
"And how's the commuting arrangement working out? Still manageable?"
"More than manageable," I assure him. "The balance between Boston and Meadowbrook gives me perspective I wouldn't have otherwise."
He nods thoughtfully. "Good to hear. Though I have to say, if you ever decide you want to be here full-time, there would be a significant promotion in it for you."
Six months ago, this offer would have thrown me into a tailspin of doubt and obligation. Now, I simply smile.
"I appreciate that, sir, but the current arrangement is working perfectly for me. It allows me to contribute here while maintaining my community connections in Meadowbrook. Best of both worlds."
"And that designer of yours? She's still consulting on projects?"
"Eva?" I can't help the warmth that enters my voice at her name. "Yes, when her schedule permits. Her insight on the visual elements of this campaign was invaluable."
"Well, hold onto her. Good creative partnerships are rare in this business."
If only he knew how much more than a creative partnership Eva and I share. But some things remain private, even in my new, more authentic life.
That evening, after our celebration dinner, Eva and I stroll along the Boston waterfront. The summer night is perfect—warm with a gentle breeze, the city lights reflecting off the harbor.
"I have news too," Eva says, her arm linked through mine. "The Meadowbrook branding campaign won a regional design award. The mayor called this morning, absolutely over the moon."
"Eva, that's amazing!" I stop walking to face her. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
She shrugs, a mischievous smile playing at her lips. "I wanted to let you have your moment first. And honestly, I was distracted by a certain key that came with a very promising 'yet.'"
I laugh, pulling her close. "Always focused on the important details. That's why you're such a brilliant designer."
"Speaking of design..." She hesitates. "I've been offered a position as creative director for a digital agency here in Boston. Three days a week, with flexibility to work remotely the rest of the time."
My heart leaps at the implications. "That sounds perfect. Are you going to take it?"
"I'm strongly considering it." She studies my face. "What do you think?"
"I think..." I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, marveling at how this extraordinary woman chose me. "I think we're building something pretty special here. A life that honors both our ambitions and our relationship. I couldn't be happier about that prospect."
Her smile widens. "Me neither. Though I have to admit, there are moments I still can't believe this is real. That we found a way to have everything we wanted without compromise."
"Not without compromise," I correct gently. "With the right compromises. Ones that make both of us stronger, not smaller."
"When did you get so wise?" she teases, echoing a question she's asked me many times before.
"I had an excellent teacher." I pull her closer. "A brilliant designer who taught me that being authentic is more important than being perfect. That being 'too much' is infinitely better than not being enough."
"And I had a pretty good teacher too," she counters. "A community leader who showed me that strength isn't about having all the answers—it's about being brave enough to ask the right questions. And patient enough to find the answers together."
We continue our walk, discussing plans for her job offer, for our shared apartment, for weekend projects back in Meadowbrook. With each step, each decision, we're building our future—not his, not hers, but ours.
Later that night, as Eva sleeps beside me, I reflect on the winding path that brought us here.
From that first committee meeting where she dared to contradict me, to the branding project that brought us together, to the job offer that nearly tore us apart.
Every challenge has only strengthened what we share.
My phone buzzes with a late message. It's from the mayor of Meadowbrook:
Mayor Pullman
Town council voted unanimously to extend the branding campaign to neighboring communities. Your and Eva's vision is literally putting us on the map. When can we discuss next steps?
I smile, setting the phone aside without replying. Tomorrow is soon enough. Tonight is just for us—for the peace we've found in each other's arms, for the future we're building one day at a time.
Eva stirs, her eyes fluttering open. "Everything okay?" she murmurs sleepily.
I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Everything is perfect. Go back to sleep."
She nestles against my chest with a contented sigh. "Love you."
"Love you too."
And I do—with a depth and certainty I never thought possible. I love her boldness and her vulnerability, her passion and her doubts. I love that she never lets me hide behind my polished facade, that she demands the real me even when I'm not sure who that is.
Most of all, I love the life we're creating together—a life where we both get to be exactly who we are. Not too much, not too polished. Just real. Just us.
As I drift toward sleep, I can't help but marvel at how different my life is from what I'd imagined.
Six months ago, I thought taking the Boston job would mean leaving everything behind.
Instead, it led me to the most important discovery of all: that with the right person by your side, you don't have to choose between the life you've built and the life you dream of.
You can have both. You can have the "and."
And with Eva, that's exactly what I've found.