36. Eleanor
Eleanor
Pride swells in my chest as I take it all in. Two and a half months of dreaming, planning, championing Safe Harbor, and it’s finally here.
Fundraiser night.
I can’t believe how beautifully it turned out.
Juliana has transformed the tent with blue and gold tablecloths, nautical-themed decor, and strings of fairy lights that trail down the canvas walls and glow in glass jars on every table.
Given the late November timing, she was also smart enough to include indoor heaters to keep the tent warm.
Outside, the trees shimmer with more fairy lights, and the temporary boardwalk provided by Jake serves as a red carpet, lined with flaming torches as it leads people into the tent. He’s even added a sweet little half-boat seat by the entrance.
But my favorite part is the artwork that lines the walls inside the tent, pieces Rowan hand-picked and helped students create, and mounted displays showcasing student poems, stories, quotes.
Juliana’s decor ensures the evening has an air of sophistication and glamor, but it’s grounded in the setting of the school, anchored to its purpose with the students’ work.
I smile as I take in the soft hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses over the faint strains of piano music drifting from the speakers.
Instead of a formal, sit-down dinner, Theo and I opted for a cocktail-style evening with canapés and wine, giving people the freedom to mingle and absorb the art displays.
He wasn’t sure if that was the right move, straying from tradition, but as I see people gather in front of the artwork and talk, I know we made the right decision.
My stomach gives a nervous ripple as I sip my wine. Tonight isn’t only about fundraising. It’s about introducing Safe Harbor to the world. Our vision. Our plans. The first step toward something bigger.
And, I can’t help but feel, the start of something bigger with Theo.
I search for his tall figure and spot him across the room, impossibly handsome in his tux, laughing with a board member. There’s a lightness to him tonight that wasn’t there before, like something has finally settled inside him.
My heart has settled as well.
We’ve spent every spare moment together since that evening in the art room, the one where we did something so intimate and hot and emotional, all at once. Where I couldn’t hold in my love anymore.
Where he broke down and told me how much he loves me, too.
And as his gaze lifts to find me watching him now, I can see that love in his eyes.
He excuses himself from his conversation and crosses to where I’m tucked in the corner, unable to keep the smile from his gorgeous mouth.
When he reaches my side and I get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne, my knees weaken so much I have to lean on the high-top table next to me.
He casts a furtive gaze around us, then leans in close. “You look stunning, sweetheart. I can’t keep my eyes off you.”
I blush, glancing at my dress, a violet ombré gown with delicate spaghetti straps, a gold belt that cinches the waist, and a skirt that cascades to the floor in soft, layered tulle.
I splurged on the dress when I saw it in a window in Manhattan last weekend with Theo, popping in to grab it while he waited outside.
And as he rakes his eyes hungrily over me, I know it was worth every penny. My chest turns hot and fizzy, happiness singing along my skin, and a smile tugs at my lips.
“Stop it,” I admonish playfully. “That is not appropriate, Headmaster Wright.”
He chuckles, leaning away and taking a sip from the glass of wine in his hand.
Despite myself, my eyes follow the motion, tracking the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, the crisp white neckline of his shirt against the silver beard at his throat, the way his tux strains a little over his broad shoulders.
I glance around us, checking we’re not in earshot of anyone, then whisper, “Although you look pretty damn fuckable in that tux.”
He chokes on his wine.
Collecting himself, he says in a low voice, “That’s no way to speak to your boss, Miss Hart.” His gaze comes to mine, eyes glinting dangerously. “I’d hate to have to reprimand you in my office.”
I whimper, pressing my legs together as need blossoms between my thighs. Is it possible we could sneak off there, just for a moment?
Theo reads my thoughts as if they’re written on my face, shaking his head with a deep laugh. The sound is so warm and rich, melting through my chest, softening everything in me. It’s so good to see him happy, like this.
“You guys really need to stop,” Juliana mutters as she approaches.
“Stop what?” I ask innocently, sipping my wine and glancing around the room.
“Stop eye-fucking each other. It’s too much.”
I glance at Theo in alarm. It’s easy to forget where we are when I feel this good, easy to let my emotions run away from me. Theo, however, just gives his daughter a fond smile.
“Don’t you have a speech to give, Headmaster?” she says pointedly, but her eyes shimmer with love.
“I do.” Theo smooths a hand down his lapel, still smiling. Even Juliana giving him shit can’t shatter his good mood. He pulls some notes from his pocket and scans them as he meanders toward the stage.
Juliana turns to me with a smile. “Gorgeous dress, Nora.”
“Thanks.” I grin, motioning to hers, a fitted navy-blue satin gown with a square neckline and pearl buttons tailing down the back. So perfectly Juliana. “Your dress is to die for.”
She offers a strained smile. “Honestly? I’d rather be in skinny jeans and heels, but…” She glances up at the ceiling, then back at me. “Appearances.”
“Well, you look amazing. And this place…” I motion to the decor. “You nailed it. Thank you so much.”
She beams, a true genuine smile, at my words. “I’m so glad you like it. And I came in under budget.”
I grin back and we clink glasses. Paige wanders to our table, looking quietly elegant in a rose-colored wrap dress and delicate heels. Her dark hair is pinned back, and she smiles as she approaches.
“Look at you two!”
We exchange compliments on each other’s outfits, then Paige gestures to the room.
“This is gorgeous, Jules. The decorations are perfect.” She looks at Juliana, eyes alight. “Who built that little boat bench by the entrance? It’s so cute.”
A sly smile curls along Juliana’s lips. “That was your Jake Ashby.”
Paige’s cheeks color, and she glances around nervously. “What? He’s not mine.”
Juliana winks. “Not yet.”
She motions across the tent, and we glance to where Jake stands alone at the edge of the crowd, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of wine as he quietly surveys the room.
His body language suggests he’s here more out of obligation than by choice, that a black-tie affair isn’t really his thing.
But he wears it well; dressed up in a crisp tux, hair neat and styled, he’s a far cry from the man we saw on Friday with the nail between his teeth. Paige does that soft little exhale she did the last time she saw him, then catches herself and looks away.
“No date,” Juliana points out, and Paige shifts uncomfortably, pretending not to hear.
I laugh. “Give her a break,” I say, elbowing Juliana.
Paige sends me a grateful look, changing the subject. “This entire evening is fantastic, Nora.”
“It was a team effort,” I remind her.
“At the end, yes, but we stepped into your plan. Everything—everyone—is here tonight because of you.”
I press a hand to my chest, touched as I absorb my friend’s words.
“And Safe Harbor is so necessary,” she continues. “This whole thing provides support for the kids who need it most.” She pauses, eyes soft. “If only we had something similar for the adults, too,” she murmurs, almost to herself.
I study her, wondering what she means. Her smile has turned melancholy, regretful almost, and I open my mouth to ask when Juliana speaks.
“In the time I attended Wetherly, we never had anything like Safe Harbor. I could have used something like that, especially when my mom died.” Sadness flickers across her face, then she adds dryly, “I never would have expected something like this to happen under my father’s reign.”
Her wording makes me think of Theo’s tattoo, the man who felt so much pressure, felt as though he had no choice but to step into the role. I wonder if she ever feels the same burden.
“I’m glad you got through to him,” she says, touching my arm. “It’s such a positive thing for the school. For the community.”
My throat grows tight at her words. I look around the room at all the people gathered here, the student artwork, the Safe Harbor program we’re about to officially unveil.
They’re right, my hand is in every detail.
I’ve done it. I’m doing it. I’m leaving a mark on this school. Making a real contribution.
Pride bursts through me, strong and bright. Even as I think of my parents telling me how foolish I was to pursue this career, how my brothers laughed and called me a “glorified babysitter,” I know they were wrong. This is meaningful.
The realization hits me in a sudden wave. I’m not playing at being an adult anymore. I’m really here. Really doing it. Finally, finally, I’m on the right track.
The piano music fades as Headmaster Wright steps up to the mic, and we turn to watch the stage.
“Good evening, everyone.” Theo’s smile lights the room as he surveys the packed crowd. My heart jumps at seeing him up there, my handsome, wonderful man. The head of the school, the man who backed my ideas and made them real.
The man who fell in love with me.
He’s only said three words, but the change in him is clear.
He’s nothing like the man I met two and a half months ago, who barely said a word in faculty meetings.
The man with the permanent scowl, shoulders rigid with stress, walls built sky-high around himself.
Tonight he’s beaming, open, relaxed, and more alive than I’ve ever seen him.
Happier than I’ve ever seen him. My heart beats double time, knowing I might have had something to do with that.
“Thank you for being here tonight to help us with the annual fall fundraiser. I know we’re all used to a different venue—” He pauses to chuckle, which is echoed by the crowd. “But we wanted to do something more closely aligned with this year’s cause.”
He glances down at his notes before returning his focus to the crowd.
“Every donation tonight goes directly toward launching phase one of our new initiative, Safe Harbor. Before I tell you about it, I want to thank you for being here. I know many of you were cautious after last year, and I’m grateful you’re prepared to put your trust in the school once more.
I believe Safe Harbor is the best way forward for all of us. ”
His eyes find mine in the crowd, softening.
“This program began because one person believed in the importance of supporting students outside the classroom. Someone passionate about student emotional wellbeing. Someone prepared to fight for it, no matter how many budget restrictions, logistical headaches, or stubborn headmasters get in her way.”
He sends me a rueful smile, and a few people turn to look in my direction, but I’m too busy staring helplessly at Theo to care.
“She’s too humble to take credit, but I want to tell you who she is. Her name is Eleanor Hart.”
Hearing my name from his lips on that stage sends an electric thrill down my spine, and I smile breathlessly.
“While she’s only been here a short while,” Theo continues, gaze still tethered to mine, “I already know her impact will be long-lasting.”
My throat closes with emotion. I press a hand to my runaway heart, trying to contain it. Juliana’s eyes shine as she gazes at me, and I know it’s not only because of Safe Harbor. It’s because she sees the change in her dad, too. She sees the man he’s become.
He looks down at his notes again, inhales to speak, then stops himself. His eyes come back to mine, flickering uncertainly before steadying with resolve.
“Actually, I need to do more than that,” he says, stuffing his notes into his jacket pocket. “I need to invite her up here to share her vision. She’s the only one who can do it justice. Eleanor”—he extends a hand, as if to reach for me across the room—“please join me up here.”
I suck in a surprised breath. Is he serious? Almost every head turns my way, and my pulse tumbles.
“Go on,” Juliana whispers, smiling. “You should be up there.”
I glance from her to the stage, stomach tilting anxiously. She’s probably not wrong, but me? On a stage? This isn’t about me. And I haven’t prepared anything to say.
Paige catches the apprehension on my face and touches my arm. “This is your moment, Nora. You deserve this.” She gives me a gentle, encouraging nudge. “Just speak from the heart. You know what to say.”
I exhale slowly. She’s right. I do.
Squaring my shoulders, I set my wineglass down and head for the stage.