My heart swells. Yep, I’m rooting for you, Loren Hale. You got this.
{ 49 }
LOREN HALE
Hale Co. has thrown a massive fall charity event in support of a children’s hospital downtown. By massive, everyone with deep pockets in Philly was invited, regardless if they’re involved with Hale Co. or not.
It’s simple. Serve drinks, good food, and have people share their stories of how Hale Co. reached out to them when they were in need. Afterwards, people will open their checkbooks. I’ve been to so many of these that they feel more routine than any school function would.
I sip a glass of water while a speaker finishes her story, and then I head towards the crowds to find Daniel Perth, one of the board members. But I don’t have to squeeze between bodies. The moment I step near, they break for me.
Seas of people create paths, just so that I can pass through. I’ve never been anything more than a nuisance. I expect glares to drill into me. But they just nod and smile. It’s been like this all night. I feel different. Older. Stronger.
I carry more confidence in my gait, and I wonder, if all this time, I just needed belief in myself. And then I’d receive this response. It overwhelms me in ways I can’t explain.
But I just move forward.
A minute later, I find Daniel by the cheese and wine bar with three other board members. One female, two males.
Daniel raises his red wine in welcome. “Enjoying yourself?”
“The wine could be better,” I banter with a half-smile.
He laughs at the joke and pats my shoulder. “I was just telling Irene about your idea for a designer clothes line for infants and toddlers.”
Irene, a severe woman with a narrowed stare, tries to crush me beneath a harsh gaze. I return hers with a colder one, not at all intimidated by her or him or any one of the board members. They don’t compare to my father. Not even close.
Her lips twitch into a smile as she asks, “Are you sure you can have Rose Calloway agree to this partnership?”
“We’re not best friends,” I say dryly, “but I know I can convince her.”
“How so?” Irene looks doubtful as she eats a cracker.
“Because she’s like my bratty older sister. Even though we can’t stand each other at times, we still love one another and she’d be willing to do this for me.” I know she would. “Though, she’ll need to be a partner in that division. Rose likes her titles, and she won’t want to take orders from me.” I’m always honest with the board.
I decided, early on, that I won’t lie for anything anymore. It’s not healthy. It’s not worth the pain. And if I want to live my life as a better, more whole person, this is what I have to do. It’s like I can breathe with every sentence. I’m no longer dreading my future.
For the first time, I yearn for tomorrow and cherish yesterday and live for today. It’s peace that no one will take from me.
“You should talk to her and start pitching names for the clothing line,” Daniel says as he finishes off his wine.
Irene nods. “It’s a strong concept, and most women like Rose.”
Another guy asks, “Are you prepared to work with her?” He wears a bemused smile like he understands Rose’s reputation for being a handful.
“I am. And if we don’t kill each other, I’ll call it a success.”
They all laugh. I understand that they’re used to someone like me. I pretty much share the same humor as my dad, so it doesn’t fall on deaf ears. I’ve fit in more easily with them than I ever thought I would.
“Hey.” My brother’s voice sounds behind me. He sets a hand on my shoulder. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“Yeah.” I nod to Daniel. “I’ll talk to you all later.”
“Maybe the wine will grow on you by then,” Daniel jokes.
“If only,” I banter back, my brother’s fingertips digging into my shoulder. I turn around quickly and head over to an empty high-top table by the wall.
He starts, “You’re not drinking—”
“No,” I retort. “It was just a joke.” One I can fucking handle. My clutch on my glass tightens, especially as I scrutinize his wardrobe again.
He’s wearing a business suit, something my dad loved seeing him in. Navy blue, tailored, wide-tie. He even shaved this morning, an attempt to try harder and be something he’s not.
“You look stupid,” I tell him.
Ryke glares. “I heard you the first four fucking times.”