CHAPTER 3 Maya
Maya
The new ramp at the entrance to the sports center had a gentle, even slope, the landing at the top flush and level.
Maya was leaning into the back of her car, one knee on the bumper, a box of event flyers balanced against her hip, and a roll of tape clenched between her teeth when her phone buzzed.
She spat the tape into the box, shoved it into the car and fumbled for her phone.
Maya closed her eyes. She took one deep, centering breath and answered.
“Ms. Lawson, this is Victoria Hale.”
Maya bit her lip. This was it.
“I would like to move forward with an acquisition,” Victoria said.
The world around her went silent and still. The rumble of traffic, the bounce of basketballs from inside the sports center, even her own pulse seemed to mute.
Acquisition.
The word was magical.
Maya squeezed her eyes shut at the rush of relief and excitement.
Victoria was still talking, professional and measured, discussing the next steps.
“Our team will take over the financial side,” Victoria went on. “And the admin.”
Maya felt something inside her loosen.
Her charity meant so much to her.
She thought of Owen teaching in a building that finally worked for him instead of against him, of Edith not needing to give up her aqua aerobics class, of Greg and Sandra pitching in to help. Of all the people who had worked together to make things better in her community.
It wouldn’t all be on her anymore. The work wouldn’t stop if she wasn’t doing it. She could go on vacation. She could cut down her hours. She and Reid could finally start talking about whether it was the right time for…
“We will need to do a financial review but that’s just a formality.”
The future opened up for her. There would be space for something else. Something… more.
Maya ended the call and stood beside her car for a moment, smiling helplessly at nothing.
Acquisition.
It still didn’t feel real.
Someone else would handle the budgets and the grant reporting and the endless forms and liability paperwork. The work wouldn’t stop if she didn’t answer emails at midnight and chase invoices and negotiate delivery costs for portable ramps and folding tables and accessible transport vans.
Her chest felt light.
There would finally be room in her life for something else.
She was ready to step back, to start the next phase of her life. Maya laughed softly under her breath and settled the box of flyers balanced on the back seat.
When she was growing up, home had always been temporary. New schools, new houses, new cities in new states. But every summer her family came back here.
Her grandparents' little brick house with the overgrown roses out front.
The family-owned grocery on the corner, the one that had outlasted the big-box stores.
The librarian who remembered her name every year.
Kids on bikes and neighborhood friends and people waving from their driveways.
The community picnic every summer—the sports field crowded with blankets and tables of food, kids racing across the grass long after sunset.
She had loved it as a teenager. And she still did.
Now there would be something that would tie her to this community forever.
“Hey, Maya?”
She turned.
Greg was halfway across the parking lot, Sandra behind him holding one end of a bright blue accessibility sign.
“I think the railing will be in the wrong spot,” Greg said with a frown.
Maya shut the car door, and turned to follow him. “Show me.”
The future would wait. Duty called.
Maya looked toward the entrance, mentally recalculating whether there was enough clearance to maneuver up to the ramp. A mobility scooter might manage it. A chair probably wouldn't
Maya grabbed the chalk from Greg’s toolbox and started sketching the new angle directly onto the sidewalk.
The sun had dropped behind the roofline by the time they finished.
Maya was packing up when one of the local shopkeepers appeared at the curb.
“I’m glad I caught you,” he said. “The curb cut outside the florist cracked again.”
“Oh, good catch. The city will cite him if he doesn't get that fixed,” Maya said. She made a note in her notebook. “I’ll let him know. Anything else?”
“Just this,” he said and then pressed a donation into Maya’s hands.
Cash.
Maya stared at it for a second. “You don’t need to pay me—”
“It’s not payment. It’s a donation. From all of us on the block,” he said, firmly. “The bakery added some too.”
Emotion tightened unexpectedly in Maya’s throat.
People gave what they could. Five dollars or ten, loose bills folded into envelopes, teenagers collecting coins in jars at convenience stores, local businesses donating materials at cost.
Maya looked down at the cash in her palm, already mentally dividing it between projects.
She counted the money quickly and logged the donation in her notebook carefully.
"Maya." Sandra touched her arm. "We're heading out. We can finish this in the morning."
The neighborhood unfolded around her as she drove home to Reid. People knowing each other, looking after each other, building things together.
A woman with a stroller bumping down off the curb where the sidewalk cut had never been repaved. The kind of thing Maya noticed, and then fixed.
And now—
Now there might finally be room in her life for more. For an addition to her life with Reid, an expansion.
She could imagine it.
A little girl riding a scooter down these same sidewalks. A little boy at the library summer program. Birthday parties at the park. Trick-or-treating on streets where everyone knew their name.
Maya dropped her bag onto the console by the door. “Reid?”
He appeared from the kitchen a moment later. She watched as he took in her excitement.
He crossed the space between them in a few steps, reaching for her without hesitation. “Maya! You got the call?”
Maya laughed, a little breathless, pressing a hand briefly to her chest. “They want the program,” she said, the words tumbling out now.
“Of course they do,” he said, wrapping her into a hug.
There was no hesitation in it. No qualification. No cautious “if” or “as long as.” No suggestion that it might not work, or that it might fall apart under scrutiny.
He simply believed in her.
“Someone else will take over all the admin.” She let out an incredulous laugh. “I won’t need to work full-time.”
Reid’s hug tightened around her.
She let herself relax in his arms. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”
“It is real,” he said simply.
Reid’s hand slid up along her back. He kissed her. Maya didn’t know if it was her, or Reid, or both of them but the pace bled into something more…urgent.
She slid her hands up to his shoulders. His grip tightening slightly at her waist as he pulled her against him.
The way he believed in her without hesitation—that was everything to her. She was undone by him. Utterly undone.
They navigated through the house without taking their hands off each other. By the time they reached the bedroom, Maya was almost climbing him.
Reid pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression softer now. “I’m so proud of you,” he said.
She liked that he was proud of her. She liked that a man like Reid, someone who built his life on principle, saw that in her, too. Her hands drifted up to his chest, fingers curling lightly into the stiff cotton of his shirt. She tilted her head up, and he met her halfway.
His hand slid to the small of her back, drawing her closer, anchoring her there as the kiss deepened. Maya let herself sink into it, into him.
She loved him. Everything else she did was for other people. She enjoyed it, she thrived in that. But coming home to this man was something just for her.
Her hands pulled at the material until his shirt came loose from his belt and then she slid her palms under the cotton, resting them against his stomach. He inhaled sharply, and the sound made something electric flicker low in her body.
She reveled in that selfish certainty of wanting and being wanted in return.
She pulled his shirt over his head and he let her. When she tugged him down with her to the bed, he shifted them until his arms braced on either side of her.
She ran her hands over the warm planes of his chest with a frank appreciation that made him exhale.
He groaned and kissed her neck. “Sweetheart,” he said against her skin. She curled her fingers into his hair, keeping him there where she wanted him. She was the greediest woman alive.