Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Matthew watched from around the corner as Winnie slumped down the corridor, stopping a distance away from Dad’s study and slipping off her heels one-by-one. He had never seen her without them before, nor had he seen her shoulders so low.
It was his fault. All of it.
When it was clear to everyone that the festival had not been as monumental a success as Winnie had hoped, she’d still held that typical Winnie Knox confidence in front of them. Now it was clear how she really felt.
Instead of the satisfaction he’d hoped to enjoy at her dejection, guilt swirled in Matthew’s chest. She shouldn’t feel disappointment at all, really. Even with the small hiccups that had occurred, she’d quadrupled attendance and brought in more joy and laughter than he’d seen on the guests’ faces in years. All of this was due to her courage to try new ideas, advertise in new places, and make big changes—all of which he’d been unable to do himself.
He could only imagine what she might’ve been able to accomplish with Matthew actually trying to help. But it was too late for that. And now? Now it was time to eat crow, his least favorite meal ever. He only prayed he’d be able to stomach Dad’s look of disappointment, too.
With a sigh, he moved to the study and gave a gentle knock. “It’s me.”
“Come in, son.”
Matthew did as he was told, entering the study to find Dad sitting on his chair, staring into the fire with a book on his lap—open, though unread.
Matthew sat across from him. “I need to speak with you about something.”
“What is it?”
Matthew drew a breath. “Did you…”
“No. I didn’t let her go. And I hope you’re not here to tell me that she deserves to be.”
Matthew winced. Of course Dad would assume that’s why Matthew was there. He scooted forward on his seat. “Actually, I’m here for the opposite reason. To convince you to give her another chance at the festival.”
Finally, Dad’s eyes shifted toward him, his brow raised in surprise. “Is that so?”
Matthew nodded.
“And why is that?”
“Because she’s not to blame for the feedback the event received. I am.”
Dad stared, clearly waiting for him to continue.
“I didn’t help her when I should have,” Matthew said. “I did once, but after that, I made the conscious decision to allow her to do what she wished because I knew her changes wouldn’t be responded to well. I wanted her to fail so she would leave earlier, then I could have control over my event again.” He lowered his eyes with a self-disgracing shake of his head. “I know I shouldn’t have, and I regret it now, especially seeing what she was able to accomplish even with my scheming. But you have to give her a second chance. Let her prove to you what she’s capable of doing, and I’m sure this time, she’ll fully succeed. ”
He’d hoped to experience relief at the end of his speech, but he only felt worse. How could he have acted like such a child? No, he hadn’t done anything truly dastardly, but his was a sin of omission—doing nothing when he should have done something .
“Well,” Dad breathed out. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to admit what you did. Though, I had suspected you of the behavior from the start.” He raised a brow. “You went along far too willingly with her plans. Even she noticed.”
Matthew looked away. And here he was, thinking he’d been so clever. At least Dad didn’t look utterly gutted.
“So,” Dad continued, “you’ll be glad to know that I have already offered her another chance with the festival.”
Matthew’s eyes darted up. “You have?”
He nodded.
“Well, that’s great, then,” Matthew said. So he hadn’t needed to go into full-blown confession mode after all.
Dad stared back at the fire. “I gave her the weekend to think on it. Though, I will say, I’m fairly certain she’ll choose not to. Unless…”
Matthew waited. “Unless, what?”
Dad’s eyes fell on him, and suddenly, Matthew understood.
“Unless I help her,” he finished.
“More than that,” Dad said. “I want you to convince her to stay, then I want the both of you to work together. Not one over the other, and not in competition. Side-by-side. As a team.”
Matthew stared. “Honestly, Dad, I don’t know if that’s possible.”
“On your part or hers?”
“Both? Neither of us responds well to criticism, and neither of us knows how to tactfully share our opinions. Put those together in a high-pressure situation, and we’ve no hope of success.”
“Rubbish,” Dad huffed. “All I’m hearing from your lips is the fear of what might happen.”
“Fear based off of reality,” Matthew defended.
Dad sighed, closing his still-unread book and placing it on the small table beside him. “Well, the way I see it is this, you either work harder together or fail greater apart. One will result in a festival that lasts many years to come, and the other, well, I’m sure you can guess the outcome.”
Matthew didn’t have to guess. He knew. But still, working with Winnie? How was such a thing even possible? They’d tried and failed a number of times. The same would happen again, wouldn’t it?
Unless, of course, he lowered his pride and accepted the fact that she knew business better than he did. Of course, she’d have to lower her pride and admit that he knew the festival better than she did.
Blowing out a slow breath, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll try— actually this time.”
Dad smiled, clearly pleased with his decision. “Then I suggest you begin this evening. I don’t expect her to last through the night.”
Matthew’s brow rose. “I thought you gave her the weekend to make her decision.”
“I did. I also gave her the option of continuing with the festival or moving on to helping Foxwood. But you need to understand something, Matthew.” Dad stopped, hesitating. He looked to the closed door, then lowered his voice. “I only tell you this in the strictest of confidences.”
Matthew leaned forward. What was going on? Dad never spoke like this.
“It’s about Winnie’s family,” he began. “Or rather, her father. I’ve always respected his intelligence and success, but over the years, our relationship has weakened due to distance, yes, but also difference of opinion. Namely, how we view the outside world—and how we treat others.”
He paused, staring at the floor with a distant look before continuing. “He also puts too much pressure on his children. When I spoke with him on the phone a few months ago, he had no difficulty touting their many accomplishments, but when he got to Winnie, it was made clear that she hasn’t impressed her dad like her siblings have. Surely you’ve seen the self-doubt she suffers with, hidden by false confidence created by a father who expects too much of his children.”
Matthew grimaced, rubbing his chest as his heart pinched. His mind flew over the last few weeks with Winnie, their interactions, her behavior, the insecurity in her eyes all falling into place like pieces of a jigsaw. How could he have been so blind?
“I brought her here with the genuine hope of having her help us,” Dad continued. “But now, I wonder if we cannot help her in return.”
Matthew stared into the fire, hoping the lapping flames would distract him enough from the guilt pressing on his mind. If only he’d known. If only he’d been a little more patient. A little more kind. But he shook his head.
To live in a world of if-onlys never brought peace. But changing his present to alter his future would .
“I’ll do my best to help her,” he said humbly, “and to convince her to stay.”
“Thank you, son,” Dad said. “I’m sure your words hold much more weight than mine do when it comes to Winnie.”
Matthew didn’t bother to ask Dad why. Instead, he stood, said goodnight, then headed down the same hallway Winnie had.
He wished he could go to bed right now, but he had one more stop to make on this apology train, and it was the worst one yet. He drew a deep breath.
Let’s get this over with.
Matthew found Winnie’s room with the door unsurprisingly shut. He hesitated a moment as he raised a hand to knock, rustling coming from within her room.
Was this really what he wanted to do, try to convince Winnie to stay? There was no going back if he did. He’d have to deal with any disagreements or arguments that came up. More than that, he’d have to try to solve those disagreements and arguments.
But when Dad’s words about Winnie’s situation drifted into his mind, and the image of her slumping down the hallway, shoeless and shoulders low, filtered in next, he settled firmly on his decision.
Yes, this was exactly what he wanted to do.
He knocked. The rustling silenced inside her room, but there was no response.
Matthew wouldn’t accept that. He knocked again.
A few seconds later, she answered. “Who is it?”
Her voice sounded harried, as if she’d just been interrupted doing something important. He had an inkling as to what exactly that was.
“It’s Matthew,” he responded.
Silence met him again. No rustling, no response.
“I just wanted to talk for a minute,” he continued, hoping his soft tone would convince her to open the door. “Preferably face-to-face, if you’re willing.”
Another few seconds passed by in silence, then footsteps sounded, and she finally opened the door.
Matthew stood frozen to his spot as he took in the sight of her. From the moment he’d seen Winnie in that Aston Martin, she’d been so put-together. Even when she’d been wet from the rain, she’d been pristine—her clothing, her bun, her makeup.
And now? Now, her dark, silky hair fell down past her shoulders in crooked waves from the bun she perpetually wore, and her skirt and shirt had been replaced with gray sweats and an oversized sweater with a large, red “U” on it. Her eyes no longer wore makeup, and the whites held a tint of red, hinting at the tears that had been shed that evening before he’d arrived.
She looked positively in disarray.
She looked positively…irresistible.
“Yes?”
Her words brought him back to the present. Clearing his throat, he looked away. “I just…wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I think you can tell how I’m doing.” She waved a hand in front of herself.
That didn’t do Matthew any favors, as he just took to staring again. What was the matter with him? It must be the shock of seeing her in such a different light. Physically and figuratively. She just looked so perfectly approachable. He supposed that was better than how she normally looked—so perfectly unattainable.
His eyes shifted to behind her, and he caught sight of her suitcase half-filled on her bed. “You’re packing already?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Your dad gave me the weekend to decide if I wanted to stay, either to work at Foxwood or with the festival again. But I figured I may as well get out of everyone’s hair and leave without doing either.”
Matthew didn’t know where to begin.
“So, why are you really here?” she asked, walking back into her room, though she left the door ajar.
Was she inviting him in, or just not pushing him out? To be safe, he remained hovering in the doorway. Her room was clean and tidy, her bed made, and curtains drawn neatly. Even her gathered belongings that she was clearly in the process of packing were spread out in an orderly row.
“Are you here to gloat?” Winnie asked, her back to him as she piled a stack of pristinely folded clothing into her suitcase.
“No,” he said with a frown.
“To make fun of me for failing?” she tried next.
“Of course not.”
“To convince me to leave tonight instead of tomorrow morning? ”
He sighed, but more due to the fact that these questions were completely and entirely warranted. He’d been an absolute rat to her.
“Actually, I’m here to convince you to do the exact opposite,” he said.
He’d expected her to turn around in a sort of pleasant surprise, but she merely scoffed, still turned away from him.
“It’s true,” he pressed.
“I’m guessing your dad pressured you into doing this.”
Matthew hesitated. He needed to say this next part delicately, but truthfully. Was he capable of doing both at the same time?
“I did talk with him just a minute ago,” he began, “and he did tell me to come down tonight, but I had every intention of speaking with you before you left.”
She placed another stack of clothing into the suitcase. “Well, you should probably get on with that, since I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”
Matthew thought for a moment. He knew Winnie more than he cared to admit, just as he knew simply asking her to stay wasn’t going to work. He’d have to try another route.
“Wow,” he said, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame.
Finally, she turned around to face him, her brow furrowed. “What?”
“I didn’t peg you for a quitter.”
A spark of pride flared in her eyes, reminding him of the Winnie he was so accustomed to seeing, but in a flash, she was gone. Her shoulders fell again, and she moved to the wardrobe at the edge of the room.
“I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work,” she said.
“And what exactly am I trying to do?”
She gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re trying to make yourself feel better by convincing me to stay so you can be guilt-free when I do leave. ”
Matthew blinked, trying to hide his surprise. She was more astute than he’d given her credit for. “That’s not entirely true,” he said.
“Only mostly,” she added.
“Well, I would like to be guilt-free if you choose to leave, but I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”
“And why is that?”
He drew a deep breath. “Because I should feel guilty.”
She faced him, her features sharp—yet still just as appealing.
“I’ll be honest,” he continued, “I was more than ready to see you riding off into the sunset a few days ago.”
“What made you change your mind?” she asked disbelievingly. She folded her own arms and turned to face him more directly. “Daddy scold you again?”
His defenses flared. He didn’t need to deal with this. He could say goodbye to the woman forever and do the festival on his own.
“Surely you’ve seen the self-doubt she suffers with, hidden by false confidence created by a father who expects too much of his children.”
Dad’s words made him pause. Reminding himself of what he’d learned about her, Matthew looked to Winnie again. All at once, he could see that self-doubt in her eyes, and his heart softened.
“I scolded myself enough for the both of us,” Matthew replied.
Her eyes narrowed, but she turned away to pull a few more items from the wardrobe. “And why would you need to do that?” she asked, sarcasm in her tone.
“I think you know that already,” he said. “I haven’t been exactly helpful.”
“No, really?”
Again with the sarcasm.
“Would you like to hear what I have to say, or do you want me to leave?” he asked .
Winnie shrugged. “Do whatever you’d like. Either way, it’s not going to change my mind about leaving.”
Once more, Matthew’s pride knocked at his door, but he refused to answer. It was time to start behaving like an adult. “All right, I’ll talk, then. First off, I think you did a…” He paused. This compliment would come out if it killed him. “A fine job with the festival.”
She looked over at him. “Wow, don’t strain yourself with the praise.”
“I’m British, what did you expect?”
For the first time that evening, a ghost of a smile haunted her lips, but it was gone in an instant.
Still, it was progress.
“Really, though,” he said, “it pains me to admit it, but you brought more people in today than we’ve had in years. And a lot of your changes improved the festival as a whole.”
She narrowed her eyes, a wary look crossing her features. “But?”
“But,” he repeated, “I think you’ve seen now that some of the changes weren’t responded well to, and I’d like to apologize for that.”
Her brow twitched. “Apologize for my own poor judgment?”
“No, apologize for not explaining to you more why those changes—the rides and the scripted tournament—wouldn’t work.” He unfolded his arms and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I knew they wouldn’t, and still, I kept my mouth shut because I’d hoped it would drive you out faster.”
Her eyes reflected the hurt he’d hoped not to see. “Well, you got your wish,” she said, flopping her arms out, then back to her sides in a retreating gesture.
He blew out a sniff from his nose. “If only it had worked. My poor attempt at sabotage only sabotaged myself. Had I been honest from the start, explained to you the reasoning behind my hesitance, the event would have been more of a success because I…” He paused, waiting until she met his gaze. “I have no doubt th at with your abilities, and my support, you could pull off the best festival we’ve ever had.”
She watched him for a moment, as if to see if he was joking or not, so he kept his gaze on her, praying she’d see the truth in his eyes. Finally, she looked away, but not before he noted her softening expression.
“ That wasn’t very British of you,” she said.
He smiled. “What can I say? I’m growing as a person.”
Their eyes met, and a level of understanding passed between them before she looked away, staring at her suitcase as her expression slowly fell.
“I appreciate you coming down here,” she said, “but I don’t know if I can do this again.”
“You can,” he said. “With my help, you absolutely can.”
“So, what, you’re suggesting that we work together?”
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”
She scoffed. “You’re crazy.”
“We’d both be mental if we go along with this plan,” he agreed. “The two of us working together, can you imagine?”
She eyed him curiously as he continued.
“And yet,” he said, “it might be so crazy that it works.”
He could see the cogs churning in her mind. “How so?”
He took a step forward before realizing it was her room, and he most definitely had not been invited in. Standing in place, he began again. “If you continued sharing your ideas for how to improve the festival, and I listened without getting defensive, and if I shared my ideas on your ideas without you getting defensive, we wouldn’t have a problem at all.”
“Sounds way easier said than done,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Aren’t most things in life that way?”
“I guess. But the two of us would have to do a whole lot of tongue biting.”
He raised his brow with a knowing look, wishing to ease the tension between them further. “I don’t know if that sort of thing ought to be required, but if you insist…”
Her lips parted, a stunning blush stretching across her features. “I didn’t mean…” She trailed off when she caught sight of his teasing smile. “Yeah, we have no hope of working together.”
He grinned. “We do. I promise, we do. Listen, I am unbelievably stubborn. But not so much that I can’t admit that I am a terrible businessman. That’s why my dad hired you instead of me.” He took a step forward, gaining steam from the light now shining in the stormy depths of her eyes. “But I do know history, and I do know England. And I know how to mix the both of them to bring an immersive experience. I just don’t know how to execute it. If we can help each other with our weaknesses and give only our strengths, I really do believe we could excel.”
He finished, searching her features for any sign of what she felt inside, but her expression was a closed book.
So all Matthew could do was pray. Pray that Winnie would forgive him. That she would take a chance on him. And that she would show compassion for his desperately failing festival.
“So,” he prompted, “what do you think?”