Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Winnie didn’t know what to say. The offer was so generous and Matthew so complimentary, how could she respond in any other way but “yes?”
Then again, they’d tried to work alongside each other for three weeks now, and it had led from one disaster to the next. Granted, he had intentionally stopped helping her so he could get rid of her, but still. Who was to say things would be any different?
Well, Matthew was saying that, wasn’t he? And he did seem different now. Heck, he’d even managed to lift her spirits after the crushing defeat she’d suffered with the festival. She’d been humiliated—was still now. But the sting was no longer so terrible. If she worked with him again, and if they both promised to be on their best behavior, could they really succeed?
Of course, she’d have to break the news to Dad that she was still working on the festival instead of Foxwood. That had been the exact reason she’d chosen to leave early, despite her desire to help Mr. Wintour in the way he deserved. She figured if she could find another consultant gig by herself, something prestigious in New York, Dad would forgive her failure before he became too angry .
“You’re being awfully quiet,” Matthew said, still standing in front of her, awaiting her response.
It was strange to have him there, tall and imposing, in a room she’d claimed as her own for nearly a month. In reality, no part of the room belonged to her, nor did the festival.
All of it, everything belonged to the Wintours.
“I’m just thinking,” she said.
“About what?”
He was talking so softly, so differently from the sarcasm and pride she was used to hearing from him. Maybe she could do the same, lower her defenses and speak with him openly, as he had spoken with her. After all, what pride did she have left to fortify those Knox defenses that were supposed to be impenetrable?
Taking a deep breath, she began, voicing her concerns. “You said so yourself I don’t know anything about faires or festivals. I just think we’d all be better off if I just went back to the other consulting jobs in the States, where I’m encouraged to be cutthroat.”
Matthew tipped his head to the side, a spare curl falling against his temple. “Is that what you enjoy?”
“Does anyone enjoy destroying people’s hopes and dreams?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m sure some people do.”
She sighed, flopping down on her bed, a mere section of it uncovered by her belongings—belongings she’d been so intent on packing away. Now she didn’t know what to do with them.
“Well, I don’t,” she said, “contrary to everyone’s beliefs.”
“I didn’t think you did,” he said.
She gave him a dubious look.
“Not anymore,” he added with an irresistibly sheepish grin. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter what people think of you. What matters is what you think of yourself. Where do your values lie? Who is the person you want to be? That sort of thing.”
Winnie listened to him as if he was speaking a foreign language. He might as well have been, what with how little she understood him. What did it matter what people thought of her? Who did she want to be? He couldn’t have asked her more difficult questions.
“And if I don’t know the answer to either?” she asked.
He merely shrugged. “Just keep moving forward until you do.”
Keep moving forward. Figure out the person she wanted to be. Don’t let Dad’s opinion muddy the water. What a life she would lead if she could tackle that fear.
Good grief, was she really taking life advice from Matthew now?
“So,” he pressed, “what do you say?”
“To what?” she asked, half-teasing. “You’ve said a lot.”
“To working together,” he said patiently. “To staying and helping me with the festival.”
She looked away, still grappling with her fears. As nice as it was to imagine being able to stand up to Dad and one day become the woman she wanted to be, it was just a pipe dream.
“Aren’t you the least bit curious to see what could come of us working together?” Matthew asked next, giving her a look of intrigue. “We really could put on one amazing event.”
Winnie must have been utterly exhausted, for her mind actually started to linger on Matthew’s words. What if she put her heart and soul into this event—her true heart and soul—just as Matthew did, just as Mr. Wintour had asked her to? What would happen then ?
“I don’t know,” she said, still hesitant. “I just don’t think it’s possible for us to work and not fight with each other.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll still fight,” he said. “We have to keep our lives interesting, after all. But I think you’ll find me to be quite the agreeable gentleman when I’m not trying to sabotage innocent individuals.”
He gave a harmless smile, and she fought off a laugh. He was too adorable. Who would have ever thought—Matthew Wintour, adorable ?
“Soooo…” he said, dragging out the word expectantly.
The hope in his eyes almost made her give in instantly. He really did want her to stay, didn’t he? She could hardly believe it.
Honestly, she wanted to stay, to follow through with the festival and do what she’d promised. But Matthew was becoming an even larger driving force in her desire to remain. She wanted to see what would become of the two of them actually working side-by-side. To see if they really could succeed together.
“Okay,” she said slowly, her pride dropping to her feet as quietly as the start of a gentle rainfall, drip by drip. “I have to admit, I…I do want to see this through.”
His eyes brightened, but she rushed on, knowing there was still much to consider. “I just don’t know where to start. I don’t know festivals, I don’t know the audience. Heck, I don’t even know England.”
He studied her for a minute, then a slow smile spread across his lips, as bright as the sun rising over the hills and spreading its light directly on her features. “I might have just the thing to help with that. Once you know England, all the pieces will fall into place.”
She eyed him suspiciously. He looked far too excited for his own good. “What are we going to do, then?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he said enigmatically. “Only be prepared for a very busy, very English holiday.”
“A holiday?” she asked.
Intrigue poured over the last of the trepidation simmering in her belly.
“Yes. Just give me a day to work through a few details.”
“Okay,” she said in a daze.
He smiled broadly, taking a few steps out of her room before turning back toward her. He pressed his hands against both sides of the doorframe, the ridges in his forearm shifting. “And pack an overnight bag, warm clothing, and shoes to walk in. We leave Monday at seven o’clock sharp. Will that suffice, Miss Knox?”
Winnie’s mind spun with the information. Overnight bag, strong shifting forearms, warm clothing. A holiday with Matthew.
“I guess,” she said. She wasn’t leaving England quite yet, then. “But I don’t even know where you’re taking me or who’s going.”
“We’ll be alone,” he said with a sure nod. “As for everything else, just leave it to me.”
“All right,” she mumbled.
“Monday. Seven o’clock sharp,” he repeated. “Do you need to set an alarm?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m a big girl. I think I can handle being on time.” Then another thought occurred. “Wait, what about hotels and food and stuff?”
He tapped excitedly against the doorframe with his fingertips. “I’m a big boy. I think I can handle it.” Once again, his eyes twinkled. “I’ll see you Monday. Seven o’clock.”
He backed away, leaving her door open as she called after him. “So eight, is it?”
His laughter echoed down the hallway.
When he was gone, Winnie closed her door, shaking her head in utter shock. She’d just agreed to spend time alone with a guy who hadn’t liked her in three weeks.
She pressed a hand to her brow, staring at the piles of clothing and toiletries on her bed and in her suitcase.
Well, she’d better get started unpacking right now because apparently, she had something else to pack for entirely.