Chapter 17
“Iwanna start us off today with one simple question: HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE AWESOME?!”
Denise winced as the man’s voice from the video playing on her laptop screen boomed through her earbuds at a deafening volume. She yanked them out of her ears and then scrambled to push the pause button on the video player.
Good God!
She vigorously rubbed her ear and looked up from her spot in the reading nook of one of the resort’s lounges. Then she froze. Maddox was watching her with wide eyes.
“Uh, hi,” Denise said sheepishly.
Maddox cleared their throat and, in a dry tone, asked, “So, how does it feel to be awesome?”
Denise looked from them to her computer and groaned. “Ugh. Could you hear that from the earbuds?”
They chuckled. “Yeah. I wasn’t eavesdropping, really. I was just walking by and…”
“Oh, I know. It was so loud,” Denise grimaced before slamming her laptop shut.
“And silly too. I’ve been watching videos of motivational speakers and sales gurus like Keith Kalady giving speeches at conventions because I had this completely absurd idea I’d get inspiration for how to run this conference. ”
Her shoulders slumped as she stared at her closed laptop while silence filled the room. Maddox had probably gone about their business instead of listening to her mindless ranting.
But a shuffling sound drew her attention, and she glanced up to find Maddox settling into the wingback chair across from her. A curious frown creased their dark eyebrows. “You haven’t led these conferences before?”
“No. As I said last night, I’ve only been working at my father’s company for two years.
He’s shuffled me through multiple departments during that time, and I’ve managed people, but nothing like this.
And I used to work on various fundraisers for a few charities before my marriage and even during.
But I always preferred background roles. ”
Maddox watched her with an open, attentive expression.
It occurred to her then, perhaps for the first time, that she had no reason to fear their judgment.
They’d seen her at her absolute lowest. The knot of tension that had coiled in her belly ever since she’d started watching these silly videos slowly unraveled, and she sank deeper into her seat.
“The truth is, I hate public speaking. I’m not a fan of crowds or groups of people. And I really don’t enjoy having attention focused on me.” She sighed. “Why my dad thought sending his introverted, socially anxious daughter to handle any of this is a puzzle.”
“No, puzzles are fun. That choice sounds too obnoxious to be a puzzle,” Maddox deadpanned.
Denise snorted. “Good point.”
Maddox leaned forward and rested their elbows on their knees.
The increased closeness made the fresh, outdoorsy notes of their cologne waft in her direction once again, and she breathed it in appreciatively before realizing what she was doing.
She straightened in her seat and focused on what Maddox was saying.
“You know, I heard on a podcast that introverts are often excellent public speakers because they do so much thinking and preparing ahead of time. They may not thrive on giving off-the-cuff talks, but the content is more valuable because they’ve prepared so well.”
“I’m trying to prepare,” Denise said, realizing she probably sounded whiny. She gestured at her computer. “But I don’t think any amount of preparation is going to have me matching Mr. Keith Kalady’s level of enthusiasm.”
“Thank God!” Maddox answered with a shudder. “It wouldn’t be a good look for Middle Waters to have a whole conference room of guests go deaf.”
Denise playfully swatted Maddox’s shoulder. “You know what I mean!”
“Okay, okay.” Laughing, Maddox held up their hands. “Geez. I know you bought me dinner, but I didn’t expect things to turn physical so quickly.”
Heat flooded Denise’s cheeks, even as she choked out a startled laugh. “Will you be serious?”
“Fine. I’ll try.” Maddox’s grin softened. “For what it’s worth, I can tell you I’ve seen my fair share of business conferences here, and from what I can see, people are smart. They don’t appreciate gimmicks as much as they appreciate when someone doesn’t waste their time, and when they’re genuine.”
Maddox scooted even closer and lowered their voice. “Last night at dinner, I think I got a glimpse of the genuine Denise Farrington, and I have to say…she’s interesting, memorable, and definitely a woman worth listening to.”
Denise’s head snapped up, and she stared at Maddox, her heart rate increasing the longer their gazes held. “You really think so?”
“I do,” Maddox answered simply. The mixture of warmth and intensity in their eyes made Denise’s insides buzz.
A sudden crackle of static from Maddox’s radio made them both jump.
“Sorry, I need to see about this,” Maddox said, unclipping the device from their belt and standing.
“Don’t apologize. I’ve taken up too much of your time as it is.”
“Nah. You took up just the right amount of my time,” they answered with a wink before exiting the lounge.
Denise’s right palm was both sweaty and partially numb.
A few hours ago, a swarm of FunDaze sales and marketing team members descended on the resort.
After they’d gotten checked in and settled in their guestrooms, they’d converged in the Sugar Maple common area for conference registration.
Denise had worked her way through the crowd, greeting familiar faces, introducing herself to unfamiliar ones, and shaking so many hands that she feared her arm might fall off.
The group was every bit as lively and noisy as she’d expected.
No doubt that would always be the case where almost one hundred people gathered in one place for what some often treated as a paid vacation.
But a lot of the clamor could be attributed to the energetic, sometimes boisterous temperaments of the people who worked in sales roles.
When she’d found it necessary to politely but firmly disengage herself from an especially gregarious sales manager after he’d cornered her and monopolized twenty minutes of her time, she had the sudden epiphany that, of all the people she worked with, the ones in sales reminded her most of her dad.
That might explain the mix of grudging admiration and dread she’d felt when preparing for this conference.
As she’d interacted with everyone, she couldn’t help but think how her dad should have been the one here, like he’d been every year before.
Even though she’d never accompanied him to a conference, it wasn’t hard to imagine him working the crowd: slapping backs, cracking jokes, and being the life of the company party.
Now that she was standing behind the podium of the Sugar Maple Lodge’s largest conference space arranging her notes, only moments before the doors would open and allow the attendees to take their seats, she could also imagine her dad standing here.
He wouldn’t need the index cards she’d spent hours preparing and reviewing.
His palms wouldn’t be sweaty, and his chest wouldn’t feel like someone had wound a giant rubber band around it a few times.
He’d hop up on the stage and greet the group in a raucous, over the top voice that would rival Mr. Keith Kalady’s any day.
He probably wouldn’t even need the podium microphone Denise was fiddling with to adjust and tapping to test. She frowned at the device. Would everyone be able to hear her through this?
“I have an alternative if you’d prefer.”
Denise nearly leaped out of her heels at the sound of the voice behind her. Damn, she really needed to get her nerves under control.
She whirled around to face Maddox, not that she needed to turn to recognize their voice.
It wasn’t even a surprise to find them here.
They and a few other resort staff members had been working quietly and efficiently in the background all day to ensure the conference launched smoothly.
The crew had answered questions, supplied coffee and fruit-infused water to attendees, adjusted room temperatures as more bodies crowded in, and performed dozens of other tasks.
Maybe Denise should have been too busy to notice their activities, but watching Maddox’s cool and competent style of handling all the moving parts of this first day was both soothing and diverting.
It was soothing and diverting to look at Maddox now, as they stood before her with their tall, lean figure framed in their more professional uniform: slacks with a dark blazer and their name embossed on a shiny bronze badge clipped to their jacket.
For half a second, Denise had the irrational desire to reach out and touch them, bury her fingers in the crisp lapels of their blazer and pull them close so she could feel Maddox’s warmth the way she had when they’d danced the other night.
Denise blinked to clear her runaway thoughts. “What?”
“I have a different mic setup if you’d like it better,” Maddox said. Their face was calm and professional, mercifully ignorant of the unruly notions flitting through her overstimulated brain.
They held up a small black box and a beige wire of some kind.
“What is that?” Denise asked.
Maddox’s face lit with an impish smile, like a child about to show off a toy.
“This is a single-ear headset microphone. We got it last year as another option for speakers. It fits around your head with the mic in front. This one picks up softer voices better than the stationary mic, plus it gives you the flexibility to move freely without wondering if you’re standing close enough to the mic every two seconds. ”
Denise gaped at Maddox. “That’s really thoughtful. Thank you!”
“No problem.” They handed her the headset.
After a minute of messing with it, she figured out how it fit and secured it around her head with the microphone adjusted to a comfortable position.
Maddox studied her face. “How’s that feel?”
She moved her head around a few times and straightened in surprise. “This may sound silly, but I sort of feel more confident wearing this, like I’m giving a TedTalk or something.”
Instead of laughing at her, Maddox only smiled. “That’s not silly. Little details like this can make a big difference.”
“Thank you again.”
Maddox gave a quick nod and moved, but Denise stopped them with a hand on their arm and waited for them to look up. “Seriously, I really appreciate it.”
Her voice came out huskier than she’d intended.
Maddox’s movements slowed, and their firm, muscular arm flexed beneath her hand. Their dark brown eyes searched hers as they murmured, “You’re very welcome.”
After a second, they blinked and pulled back. They held up the small black box and slid nimble fingers across the edge as they pointed out its features. “The wire from the headset connects here; this is your on/off switch; and this is the clip.”
Once they’d connected the wire, Maddox ran their gaze over her. “The box can either fit in the pocket of your suit jacket or it can clip to the back waistband of your slacks beneath the jacket.”
“I think the waistband would be better. Can you help me?”
“Sure.” They circled around behind her and moved closer. “Excuse the hands, please.”
Maddox lifted the back of her jacket and began attaching the clip. Their warm fingers brushed along the small of her back. She’d forgotten how sensitive that spot could be. Even through her blouse, the light touch made her skin twitch, and she sucked in a breath.
Her reaction must have caught Maddox’s attention. They leaned the slightest bit closer until she could feel their body heat radiating against her back. Their breath ruffled her hair as they whispered, “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she answered breathlessly. Her heart thumped so fast she worried Maddox could hear it.
Quickly, they finished securing the clip and backed away, leaving her feeling cold and off-center.
“That should do it!” For once, the cheeriness in Maddox’s voice sounded forced. She turned to face them and was startled to see a hint of red darkening their cheeks. “We can run a quick sound check, and then we’ll be ready to open the doors whenever you are.”