“That was Perry’s idea—including each volunteer’s name on their shirt,” says Devin.
I lift my eyebrows at Perry, who scratches the back of his neck. “I know the accident has made it harder for you to remember people’s names. I figured that you’d want to help out in-person during the festival, and this way you won’t have to worry about names because everyone’s will be right there, on their chest.” With a sheepish smile, he shrugs.
I stare at him.
Perry tenses, eyes creasing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says quickly. “I just thought—”
I launch out of my chair and wrap my arms around him in a brief, heartfelt hug. His muscles stiffen beneath me, and I quickly resume my seat, neck warming. Gripping the T-shirt in my fist, press it against my chest, directly over my heart. “Thank you,” I say, putting every ounce of appreciation I can muster into the words.
“You’re welcome,” he says, ears turning pink.
“Oh!” I snap. “That reminds me. I have something for you too. Can I borrow your computer?”
“Of course.” Perry slides his laptop over to me at the same moment I reach for it, and for a brief moment, our arms brush.
I suck in a sharp breath. Perry shifts quickly, rubbing the spot where we touched. His gaze lands briefly on me before darting away. Okay, don’t panic. This is fine.
“Thank you.” Squaring my shoulders, I open a new browser window and log on to my personal email. I pull up the email I drafted last night, open the pdf attachment, and angle the computer toward Perry. “I wanted to wait until Devin was here before sharing it since it pertains to both of you.”
With an inscrutable expression, Perry begins reading. After several seconds, his jaw goes slack. “When did you do this?” he breathes, eyes flying across the screen.
“What is it?” Devin asks. Striding over to the desk, he leans down to read over Perry’s shoulder.
“A new community college idea for Councilman Truman. One that doesn’t involve tearing down Blooms & Baubles or using eminent domain to get the city the property it needs,” I explain. “My stepdad’s a Realtor, so I asked him a couple weeks ago to run a search for commercial properties in Cleveland that are currently available at or below market value in neighborhoods that could truly use a community college, along with the opportunities it will bring residents. Because let’s face it: Ohio City is comparatively more affluent—and white—than a lot of other areas. He found two side-by-side commercial buildings for sale in the Buckeye-Shaker neighborhood that would only need retrofitting to turn them into an educational facility. Not only would it cost significantly less than building from scratch, but it would actually be helping a neighborhood that needs it way more than ours does.”
Perry stares at me, openmouthed.
Straightening, Devin lets out a breathy laugh. “Holy shit.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I have complete faith that this festival will be a success and save Blooms & Baubles. But as every good attorney knows, you don’t file a brief with only one legal argument; you present backups and backups to those backups. And if the city council decides to move forward with your dad’s idea? Well, now you have the ammunition to argue that the city doesn’t need your property, per se. Because there are other options available.”
“I didn’t think it was possible, but you continue to surprise me.” Perry’s voice is so hoarse he coughs. “How are you planning to share this with Councilman Truman? Email it to him?”
“I was planning on asking my friend Val, the one who works for the city, to forward it to his office—from an anonymous constituent. I can’t have my name associated with the festival since my firm represents your dad. It could be seen as a conflict of interest.”
Dipping his head, Devin squeezes the back of Perry’s chair. “Let me give the proposal to Councilman Truman in person.”
“What? Why?” Perry demands.
“Because he already knows me, and I can get a meeting with him. He can ignore an email. He can’t ignore someone talking to him face-to-face.”
“But Dad will know you’re involved then, and you’ll lose your job and your chance to take over the company someday,” Perry protests.
“Good! Cass, you were right. I shouldn’t work for him—not if this is how he treats his family. It’s not worth it,” Devin says softly.
“Devin, no.”