Chapter 15
The Besties Chat:
Max
Chin up, babe. You’ve got this.
Alice
Call us and report back tonight!
Elora
Love you guys.
Rhodes Family Chat:
Alice
El goes on for her grant presentation in twenty!
Rhyett
Break a leg, beautiful!
Jameson
Jesus, harsh man. Didn’t know you wanted B to win that badly.
Rhyett
Fuck off, J. You know what I mean.
Leighton
You’ve got this, big sister!!
Kaia
You’re my hero, Elly! Knock them dead!
Maverick
So violent. Jesus.
Elora
You guys are ridiculous. I fucking love you.
Paxton
Money’s on you, El. Literally. Go lock it down, Sparkplug. Either way, I’m so fucking proud of you.
Tears in my eyes,throat thick, I stared at the messages, giggling at my chaotic brothers and eternally sweet sisters. I missed them all so damn much, a wave of homesickness competing with the pre-stage jitters for who would sabotage one of the most crucial sixty minutes of my career. But it was the moment our oldest sister’s name popped up on my screen that my eyes flew wide. We almost never heard from Jeanne outside of holidays, and even then, service in third world countries wasn’t exactly dependable.
Jeanne
Just landed. What are you doing, sissy?
Rhyett
Holy fucking shit, where are you?
Jameson
Christ, good to know you’re still breathing. *eye roll emoji*
Axel
Jeanne! Holy hell, girl. It’s good to see your name.
Hadlee
Where you at Jeanie?
El!! I’m so fucking proud of you. Go rock it.
Maverick
*‘IT’S ALIVE’ gif*
Elora
Damn sissy. Good to see your name. I’m pitching for a grant for Mara, Pax, and my school.
Jeanne
HELL YES. Go and grow, baby! I believe in you.
Finn
Jeanne, see you soon!
El, you’ve got this. Go kick ass. We’re all rooting for you.
Maverick
What does one wear to an award ceremony these days?
Jameson
Just don’t arrive naked.
Axel
Well, that shoots my plan in the foot.
Elora
No one is arriving anywhere, and certainly not in your birthday suits. Gotta roll. Jeanne, let’s chat later?
Jeanne
Tomorrow? I’m wiped. Gotta clean up.
Elora
I fly out for Seattle at noon. After?
Jeanne
Perfect.
Jameson
Wait. Wtf did Finn say ‘see you soon’? You better not be in NYC without telling the rest of us.
For the firsttime in years, anxiety had tightened my belly as I prepared for my last pitch…right until the yahoo crew sent me snickering as I slid my phone into the tight, silky pocket of my favorite cobalt blazer. Partially, the nerves reared their heads because I’d be speaking in front of the attendees and panelists again today, but mostly because Broderick hadn’t been back since the night of the concert. Some kind of body snatcher had swapped him for his body double all over again, and I’d been reeling since.
I thought the night had been a freaking dream right until he went all Star Trek Vulcan on me and then vanished into the ether. Even Evel Knievel would have whiplash hanging around this man.
I’d known he was around, because Johanna told me how ‘very much’ she enjoyed chatting with my ‘foxy professor friend’, and I decided maybe she wasn’t quite as fabulous as I’d originally thought. As a matter of fact, I actually didn’t care much for her at all.
And then he was there, opening the day bright and early, and owning every inch of that stage like the professor he was. He was so introverted, so introspective—always stuck in his head—that sometimes it was easy to forget that he literally spoke to a few hundred students for a living. I watched with rapt attention right until that bright smile cracked his face at the sound of boisterous applause from hundreds of members of the audience who’d engaged with him before their coffee even went cold on the last morning of the event. Hell, I’d been impressed at how many attendees were in their seats, sans toothpicks to hold their eyelids apart.
As for Broderick…he was magnificent. And also, a total fucking sneak, because I rushed out of the room the moment he wrapped up, weaving through the now standing bodies as fast as I could manage, and still didn’t catch him before he vanished. I checked the room during intermissions, to no avail. The shithead was avoiding me.
Pierce closed out the morning segment of the day, leaving me with the task of opening after lunch.
When I arrived down in the conference room, I canted my head, studying the stage, which was now missing a podium. In its place was a solitary armchair. Curiosity quirked my brow just before the unmistakable clearing of his throat had me turning to find Broderick smiling softly, holding up an impressive cup of coffee in offering.
“That’s a rather manly serving there,” I said, narrowing my eyes before accepting and asking, “What’s this for?”
“You always like to present like you’re sitting across a table from your audience,” he said, nodding to the chair on the stage. My mouth popped open. When I turned back to him, he was backing away into the hallway like that was all the explanation I’d get.
“You watch me speak?” I asked, a not-so-subtle heat creeping up my neck at the idea, spreading to my chest when he grinned conspiratorially.
“Didn’t think your hometown forgot about our golden girl, did you? Hell, I play your lives for my students.”
I tracked his movement, taking slow steps toward him as he backed up. Simultaneous amusement and overwhelm tugged my heart along on the invisible leash in his hand. At a loss for words, I wrestled out, “Broderick, thank?—”
“No biggie, Pix,” he shrugged. “You deserve this. Break a leg out there,” he said, turning to vanish into the steadily flowing sea of post-lunch attendees finding their way inside, their gradually growing chatter bouncing off the walls.
What the hell was he doing, playing ghost for two days straight just to drop in for the kindest gesture I’d ever seen, only to vanish again without an explanation? Confusion burrowed into my belly. He was the most infuriating man I ever had the displeasure of infatuating over. I was just about to chase after him and demand some straight fucking answers when a beaming Mara appeared in my sight, clapping me enthusiastically on both shoulders.
“Good morning! Looking beautiful,” her eyes widened at the enormous coffee clutched between my fingers. “Looking caffeinated. Ready to go kick some ass?”
Blinking, I said, “Yeah, I guess.”
“That’s the spirit!” she chirped sardonically, turning me around and smacking my back to encourage our movement toward the curtained off prep area. Still a little dazed—and a lot confused—I followed my friend to the side of the stage, where the happy but flushed faces of a bustling IT team greeted us and began wiring me to the mic.
Johanna came in, beaming that stage worthy smile, and I couldn’t help but return the hug she offered before pulling back and dusting invisible lint off my shoulders.
“You’re on in ninety seconds, Elora. You ready?” she said cheerfully as she adjusted her own mic on that perfectly pressed ivory blazer. I sucked down a deep breath before straightening my spine and beaming back at her.
“Born that way.”
I closed my eyes when Johanna nodded and turned for the stage. Hanging onto the rail at the bottom of the three quick steps, I envisioned walking up and across the stage, saying hello, working the audience, and then inviting them to refill their coffees from the table carafes, and settle in like old friends. I envisioned what it would feel like to hold their attention, earn their laughter, and make them ask the hard questions because they felt comfortable enough to. I shook out my shoulders and pulled on memories of the jitter of applause from my chest to my toes and held that right until Johanna called my name. My heels clicked up the stairs, the walk out music blaring through the enormous speakers.
Chest up. Head tall, I took the stage with a smile, a strut, and a cheery wave.
Pierce and Cheyennewere the first smiles I recognized in the crowds chaos as they mobbed around me to ask questions in the hallway after my talk. God, it was a rush unlike any other. Better than performing, knowing that not only had I planted the idea of this school in the universe, but also equipped the crowd with lessons and skills they could all use to grow their own businesses and charities. The latter hurled her arms around me with so much enthusiasm, I would’ve eaten carpet if not for Pierce steadying us both with a laugh.
When she pulled back, her beaming face was echoed by Mara, who finally forced her way through two rather eager looking young men who had flocked to my coat tails on Monday and just kept finding their way back.
“You were incredible,” Cheyenne squealed.
“Legendary,” Mara agreed with zealous nods.
“A shoo-in, and I can’t even be bitter about it,” Pierce said, playfully nudging my shoulder, his pearly teeth on display in a dazzling smile. Oh, yeah. Max owed me. “Who’s your mother? Who the hell raised you?”
Laughing, I shook my head, hands up in defense. “You guys did amazing, too. I don’t think the judges have an easy task awaiting them.” The gorgeous siblings both started showering more flattery, but my eyes locked on dark browns across the heads of new attendees tentatively working their way forward to ask their questions. Broderick’s smile was subtle, but so fucking reassuring with that glow of pride that my heart seemed to slow just holding his attention. A tentative grin crept up my cheeks before I bit my lower lip, and he gave me a nod.
“Gonna answer that?” Pierce’s chipper baritone brought me back into my body and I blinked, swallowing hard as I realized the device in my palm was singing a merry little tune. Yanking myself from my stupor, I glanced down to see Christopher Calling written over the screen.
He knew where I was. Hell, he was supposed to be tuned into the lives. Perplexed, I hesitantly answered with a simple, “You okay?”
“Fuck yeah, I am. So are you, by the way. Are you sitting down?”
“No?”
“You should be.”
“Chris, what’s up? You’re freaking me out.” I glanced up to find Broderick’s column now vacant, disappointment slumping my shoulders as I waved to my friends and extricated myself from the chaos, Mara tight on my heels.
“On second thought, maybe don’t sit. Maybe walk, but not on steps or near water.”
“Chris.”
“Is Mara there?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God, because I don’t know if I can contain this any longer and I needed you both. Get somewhere you can stick me on speaker.”
Some bizarre anxiety-anticipation combo settled in my throat like I’d forgotten how to swallow. As a matter of fact, my mouth was suddenly parched, body gearing up to fight some invisible threat as my assistant continued to babble in the background, like he was talking to someone else.
When we rounded a corner, I shoved inside a conference room where–at least judging by the enormous, oblong marble table and abundance of chairs down the center–big-wigs had their meetings. The Godfather would approve of the four-inch slab and looming presence of the armchairs. I scooted one out as Mara locked the double doors before joining me.
“Jesus fucking Christ, are you two ready yet?”
Laughing, I said, “Yes, and out with it. You’re killing me here.”
“Just got off the phone with Lionel.”
“My agent?”
“No, dummy, Richie. Yes, your fucking agent, I swear to God, El, sometimes.”
“Chris!” I snapped, growing more than a little impatient and a lot nervous.
“Right.” He sucked down a long breath, like he was steadying himself, and my eyes flicked up to Mara’s, but she just shrugged, brows winging up to mirror my confusion. “So, we may have been conspiring the last few weeks, and taken the liberty of pitching the school to some pretty major producers in some very major networks.” My heart…stopped. Apparently, so did Mara’s, judging by the pit-bull-jaws-of-death level grip she had on my arm. He wouldn’t have gotten us alone and built up all this anticipation if that effort had been fruitless. “There were a handful of little fish that took the bait…and a couple of very, very big fish sniffing around too.” I heard the chatter of a keyboard being typed in rapid succession as he sucked down another long breath, either unaware or not caring that I was holding mine. “Two made bids, Lionel worked his magic, and they just delivered their highest and best offers. Which is why I’m calling. They watched our lives this week, El, and they both want you. But I just sent you the offer from the one we’re most excited about. You could pick between Chicago, New York, or Los Angeles, and I know you wanted to be in charge of location, but just wait until you get a look at these numbers.”
I was already two steps ahead of him, swiping over to my email. The world seemed to shift on its axis. This…this changed everything. Buildings already owned by the network. Plans and funds for not only equipment but the staff, as well as a small scholarship account. My throat constricted as Mara and I both pressed our hands to our lips in tandem.
Sucking down a breath, I reminded myself not to get excited until it was a done deal, but holy mother fucking shit.
“Do I keep the hiring process?”
Without missing a beat, Chris said, “Yes. I weeded out anyone who wouldn’t budge on that. It’s a school first. Mind you, they get a say because we can’t have a Debby Downer or Bertha the Curmudgeon tanking ratings, but you get an ultimate sign off.”
“Who determines scholarships?”
“Joint venture. But you get to field the first round and let them pick from the finalists based on camera tests and interviews. They want to pull some characters in, keep people engaged.”
“What happens if the show gets canceled? Do we lose all of it?”
“This is why you’re the CEO. First, there’s no way you’d get canceled. I can already see the way you’d spin spotlights for female-owned businesses and then past students. The first few years, the funds are minimal as the school gets going—they’ll document any necessary renovations, and setup, and then they ramp up once you have students prepping for graduation. That’s when filming would start. The alternative would be poaching business students from major universities and dropping them into their senior years. But I told them you wouldn’t like the first subjects being students who were primed by other educators. You’d want to highlight women who got the complete experience. Should something happen to the show, yes, we’d lose the allotted annual funding, but the building, the gear, that all stays.”
Nodding, I blew out a heavy breath. This is what we’d been praying for. I just…never expected it to come in this form. It was that initial startup that was killing us. That was the thing about manifesting. It rarely arrived like you imagined it would. All I could do was send my intention into the universe and trust it would deliver what was meant for me.
This…this was so much more than I dared to ask for.
“Why aren’t you more excited? Did you get down to the funding part of the proposal? The five-year plan?”
“What? No, not yet. Did you run this by Max?”
“Or risk getting his eyes plucked out? Of course he did,” Max’s voice was suddenly on the line. Throwing a hand up as if to say what the fuck is this, I glanced to Mara, finding a mirror of my bewilderment.
“Wait, are you two together?”
“No, Elly, my sweet summer child. He just patched me in. I went through the fine print last night.”
“You know I have an agent for that, right?”
“And yet, you asked for me,” he pointed out with no small bit of satisfaction.
“You did,” Mara agreed, smirking. “Literally, just now.”
“Okay, and you approve?” I pressed, somehow earning laughs from both men on this impromptu conference call.
“In spades, baby. This is it, El. This is that big break we’ve been waiting for. Hurry up and read through it, so we can all be on the same page.”
I shook my head, puffing air into my cheeks before admitting, “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around this whole thing.”
“Well, don’t think too long,” Chris cut in. “This is fucking brilliant, El. Not the thing you hem and haw about, you know? They’re going to want an answer?—”
I scrolled until I saw the numbers at the bottom, my heart a full throttle race horse as I blew out a long phew. Twice. Twice what I’d applied for—not just here, but total. Which meant…we didn’t need the grant if we took this. I could tell Johanna I withdrew, and at least based on the responses today, and our scores prior, that would leave Broderick in the lead. I adored Pierce and Cheyenne, but I loved Broderick more. My heart galloped harder. If Broderick could take this home to help the island’s kids, and Mara and I got our funding…
Holy shit. My eyes locked on Mara’s as she gave a decisive nod and mouthed ‘fuck yeah.’
“Sure that’s not a misprint, Chris? That is a lot of zeroes behind that nine.”