39. Will
Chapter thirty-nine
Will
“They’re going to hate me,” Mia sighs as she picks up the toasted sandwich she ordered from room service. “Despite all that money and privilege, Craig’s life was actually kind of tragic. And some of them, at least, think I’m to blame for that.”
“But you’re not,” I say, taking a handful of French fries. “Isn’t that all that matters?”
She balks, opening then closing her mouth before exclaiming, “Were you listening? They think I’m the thing that represents everything terrible that happened to him. Jesus.”
“What I mean is, it doesn’t matter whether you think they liked Craig, or if they think you’re the right person to be here, or whatever it is they think. And—this is going to sound flippant, but I doubt anyone actually thinks you tried to kill him. The fact is, you’re here, and you want to help make this a good place to work. Isn’t that what they need to hear, and see you doing?”
Her lower lip sticks out in a slight, sexy pout as she thinks of a rebuttal. “But what if they do think I killed him?”
I scoff, but I make sure it’s gentle. “They don’t. But if they do, then they should call the police.” I know she knows they aren’t serious, but I can see why she’s worried about it. It’ll take some real effort to turn some of them around. “Seriously though, you were never going to convince those ones anyway. I won’t lie to you and tell you it won’t be an uphill battle; I’m sure for some people, it will be. But you don’t have to convince them to like you, Mia. You have to convince them you’re here for the right reasons, and you want to repair the damage Bryce caused. That’s it.”
I spend the rest of the morning trying to encourage Mia into the right headspace to get ready for the discovery session. I want to do that by flirting with her and having fun, but she’s just learned far too much to be too lighthearted right now. While I don’t mind helping her like this, I can’t get Matt’s warning out of my head. Am I being too accommodating? Is this what I really want my relationship with Mia to be like? A forever wingman to her success?
The discovery session is scheduled for two , the best time to get the most staff available. Most guests already will have eaten lunch and made their way back out onto the slopes. Mia will run a second session later in the afternoon, to catch everyone who needs to be working during the earlier session. By the time we arrive, seats are starting to fill.
Mia stands at the podium next to Alessandro, a picture of professional, approachable, and confident. The last few staff file in, looking at Mia curiously. Flashes of understanding flick across some people’s faces as they work out who she is. Alessandro thanks everyone for attending and introduces her simply as “Mia Davis, who has come to chat with us today.”
She walks to the lectern, smoothing her hands over her blue dress. I know Abigail carefully chose the dress for every session. It’s the perfect mix, Mia told me once, of formal enough to demonstrate that she takes this role seriously without being too expensive or flashy. I know Mia doesn’t have a written speech, but instead, like I suggested, she has a few bullet points written on a notecard taped to the podium.
She gives a basic introduction, detailing her previous experience, then admits—is it an admission? A confession?—she had tried to find an external person to do the role, but after some time, realized the best way to honor Craig’s memory is to make sure the people he cared so deeply about continue to be looked after and that his vision of the resorts continues.
Mia handles the Q&A session perfectly. Most questions focus either on something personal she can easily answer or are questions she can honestly say she doesn’t know the answer to yet, but can commit to coming back to them.
By the time we’ve eaten lunch, and Mia has run the second session, even I’m exhausted. Mia must be drained, but in true Mia fashion, she manages to be vibrant and friendly, putting on a good face until we’re behind closed doors.
“How’d I do?” She collapses on the bed the second we walk in. She’s now lying face down on the pillow, her voice so muffled I can barely hear her.
“You did a great job. You were professional and polished. You covered things in a perfect amount of detail. People in the room were paying attention. I don’t think they expected someone as likeable as you are, Mia.” I know Mia needs detailed, specific feedback right now. “I’m serious, I think you did a really great job, and you should be proud of yourself.”
I fish out her hand, bending to kiss her knuckles.
“I’ll head back to my room, give you some space to rest. Text me, or knock if you want to meet for dinner?” I start heading toward the door.
She rolls over, hair askew. “Wait, can you stay? I want you here.”
“Yeah. Sure.” I want you . She wants me, here, right now. Okay, only to support her, but she wants me.
Mia pats the bed next to her. I slip off my shoes, and sit back against the headboard, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. She melts into me. This is what I want. For her to come to me for emotional support, and for physical touch.
“I’m worried no one will ever tell me I’m doing a good job if I do this, these people started not liking me for no reason. How can I ever meet their expectations?” Her confession is aimed at my collarbone, and she’s pressing her body against mine. She’s living up to her Limpet nickname again.
I lift her chin with my finger, looking into her eyes. “It’s going to be hard. I think that’s one of the hardest things about being the boss. But you can do hard things, and I believe in you.” I hope she appreciates that I don’t bullshit her or sugarcoat things.
But it’s true. She’s going to nail this, I know it.