by Vanessa Fox
A handsome dark-haired man in the back rises and the audience erupts in applause. He's wearing his military uniform adorned with badges and ornaments. He nods, looking humble and shy.
"I know the sacrifice my son made for our country. But what puzzled me was the lack of support he received upon his return home. Patrick was lucky enough to have a supportive family who was already well-off. He's done very well for himself since his days in the military. But many of his friends, who suffered severe mental and physical trauma, haven't been so lucky. Many suffer from depression, unemployment, and homelessness. I didn't think it was fair. I didn't think it was right. I knew I was only one woman, but I made a pledge to do everything in my power to help those brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country. After everything they've done for us, don't you think it's the least we can do for them?"
Her words are followed by thunderous applause.
Once it dies down, she speaks again. "That's why our organization is so important. We're changing lives, each and every day. Every contribution is important. Your pledge is greatly appreciated, no matter how big or how small. Thank you."
Her introductory speech is followed by a video on a projector. It's a compilation of images and videos of her son Patrick during his time in the military, interspersed with depressing facts about veterans in the country, set to orchestral music that is both moving and inspiring.
After a few minutes, the video ends. It's my time. I chug the contents of my champagne. My palms are sweaty and I'm so nervous, but there's nothing I can do about it now.
I stand up and carefully make my way up the stairs and over to the podium, praying I don't trip on my heels.
There's a bright spotlight right on me. The audience looks vast, a sea of dark heads and bodies just sitting and watching intently. All eyes on me.
Don't freak out, Willow. You spoke at your cousin's wedding reception last year and there were probably more guests there than there are here. So what's the big deal?
I clear my throat.
"Good evening, I'm Willow Greene," I say into the microphone, trying to muster as much confidence as I can. "I am truly honored to be standing here before all of you tonight. I guess you can say I'm a bit of a newcomer. I was given the incredible privilege of being hired for the Cooper Foundation just a few short months ago. At the time, I thought the charity's purpose was a noble one. I admired Mrs. Cooper's vision and dedication towards helping others. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't mainly just happy to finally get a job, after being unemployed for nearly a year after graduation."
I pause, and thankfully get a chuckle out of a few members of the audience.
"Since then, I've come to realize that this is so much more than just a job. I've had the privilege of speaking face to face with service men and women— hearing their stories, and their struggles, and the difficulty they've faced upon returning to civilian life. I've been touched, I've been moved, and I've been angered by what I've heard. I've been inspired by Mrs. Cooper's incredible work ethic and drive, and her relentless effort to make a difference in the lives of others."
I look to Mrs. Cooper, who is sitting off to the side, smiling.
"She has inspired me to become a better person. To selflessly throw myself into my work, and to never give up. She's not doing it for fame, or fortune. She's not trying to make millions of dollars. She just wants to help, in any way she can. I've tried my hardest to keep up with her, but so far I'll fallen short. Personally, I don't think she sleeps. I've never seen it, at least."
The audience laughs.
Adrenaline is pumping through my veins, but my nerves have settled. This isn't so hard, after all!
"In my short time with the Foundation, we have made a difference in the lives of so many. We've helped homeless veterans find stable and affordable residences. We've helped the unemployed find jobs. We've helped those with debilitating mental disabilities get the psychiatric care they need. I've been blown away by the huge impact this foundation has made, in such a short time. I can only marvel at the overall amount of good this organization has brought to the world since its inception."
The audience claps, and there's even a lone "woo!" from somewhere in the back.
As I wait for the applause to die down, my eyes scan the crowd and settle on a man standing against the wall. He's tall, with sandy blond hair, and piercing green eyes.
My heart stops.
Kade.
The noise settles and silence returns. I stand there like an idiot at the podium, my jaw dropped. I look away from Kade and swallow hard, blinking as I try to remember what I was saying.
Ah, shit!
It's a complete blank.
I wonder if I just start talking, it'll come back to me. "So, anyway, the gist of it is this: I am so proud to be, uh, here. I am so incredibly honored to serve the needs of these, of these brave service men and woman, who made the ultimate sacrifice for us all."
More applause.
What the hell was that?
I have more to say. Paragraphs more. Really moving stuff that I spent hours painstakingly writing and re-writing and memorizing. But I can't remember a damn word of it! The worst part is, I left my purse with the speech in it on my chair.
Argh!
I lean in close to the microphone. "Your donations are greatly appreciated. Now let's go out there and help these vets! Thank you."
The guests clap and cheer as I sheepishly move away from the podium. Mrs. Cooper gives me a perplexed look as I shuffle past her to get back to my seat. My face is beet red. I sit back down at the table and immediately grab my champagne flute to take a big swig, but I'm disappointed to find it empty.
Dammit, the speech was going so well, but then I botched it!
And it was all his fault!
I keep my head down as the next speaker takes the podium. What the hell is Kade doing here? Was he the celebrity Mrs. Cooper was going on about? Kade Hughes?!
I start to feel sick. My heart is pounding relentlessly in my chest.
This can't be happening. Maybe I hallucinated him.
I take my purse and discretely get up, shuffling out of the dining area and heading towards the bathrooms. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Kade, still standing there. I can feel his eyes on me, though I don't know if I'm just imagining that part.
I finally make it to the bathrooms. As I suspected, my face is beet red, and I look like a sweaty mess. I take out my compact and pat my face with powder.
Okay, Willow, get it together. This is the most important night of your career so far. You already screwed up a little, but that's okay. Just stay calm and composed. Kade or no Kade. It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter.
I take a deep breath to steady myself. Okay. It's okay.
When I feel ready, I decide to head back to my seat. I'm gonna play it cool as a cucumber for the rest of the night, like nothing happened. Like Kade isn't even here.
I step out into the hall and he's right there, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed.
"Hey, darlin'," he greets.
Chapter 10
Kade
Despite the dumb look on her face, Willow Greene looks absolutely stunning.
The meek, skinny little girl I dated in high school is a far cry from the gorgeous grown woman standing before me. She looks like a queen in her elegant v-neck evening gown. Her dark hair is longer than I've ever seen it, cascading over her bare shoulders in soft waves, framing her delicate, porcelain face. Two big, deep blue eyes sear into me.
She still looks young, soft, even innocent. But her eyes now hold a wisdom and a strength that only experience and maturity can bring.
And those curves— damn!
Her body has definitely matured, too.
My eyes linger on her curves: her amble bosom, small waist, and perfectly round bubble butt.
She shifts her weight and clears her throat. "H-hi, Kade."
Her face is flushed. Her cheeks are beet red the
way they used to get back in high school when I'd flirt with her and she'd pretend that it wasn't working.
"You look amazing," I say simply.
"Thanks. So do you."
Her eyes graze down my body. I'm dressed in a tailored Versace tux that cost me a cool $4000. But I know it's not the clothing brand that catches her eye. I'm bigger and taller than I was when we last parted. I like to think she's imagining what my muscles look like under the clothes. If she plays her cards right, maybe I'll give her the privilege to see for herself.
The silence lingers tentatively between us.
Suddenly I find myself at a loss for words, which is odd because I usually never run out of things to say.
On my way here I ran through possible scenarios in my mind. I fantasized about it. Her eyes lighting up when she sees me. After many exciting, rousing conversations, I steal her away from the party, take her to some private corner of the hall, maybe a patio overlooking a garden, for a romantic rendezvous. Hours of flirting, kissing, and drinking, culminating in a limo ride back to my place— only we can't wait that long. We're tearing our clothes off in the back of the limo and going at it, fucking passionately and coming at the same time.
I know I'm just a few playful comments and flirty winks away from getting the wheels churning in that direction.
But right now I can't seem to do anything besides stand here like an idiot.
"What are you doing here?" she finally asks.
"I'm really passionate about veterans affairs," I say with a smirk.
She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. That's the Willow I remember. "So you're saying it's just a coincidence?"
"Total coincidence. Just like you coming to my game a few weeks ago was a total coincidence."
Willow smiles. "Actually, that was a coincidence. My friend Katie dragged me there against my will."
"Right. Whatever you say." I wink. "How do I know you haven't been to all of my games? Standing there in the crowd, spying, stalking, fantasizing about getting a taste of Kade Hughes again?"
Willow laughs. "Oh, you haven't changed, Kade. Still as full of yourself as ever."
I shrug. "Well, I think I have pretty good reason to be. Don't you?"
She doesn't bother to indulge me. "Why are you here, Kade? Don't you have better things to do with your time than going around harassing your ex-girlfriends?"
"I'm not here to harass anybody. I'm here to help the veterans. I wrote a $500k check to the foundation."
Willow's jaw drops. "You what?!"
"Yeah. I gave it to that broad with the poofy dress earlier."
Willow steps forward and slaps my arm. "No, you didn't!"
"I did!"
"Her name is Mrs. Cooper."
"Mrs. Cooper, right."
"She has a massive crush on you. Now I'm betting it's even bigger. I'd be careful around her if I were you."
"Oh yeah? You jealous?"
I grin, and Willow's eyes caress my face. She's standing close, and there's heat between us. It's like nothing's changed.
"Why on earth would you donate so much money? Do you even have that much money?" Willow asks, looking pleased yet baffled all at once.
"Well, darlin', to tell the truth, I've got a bad reputation I'm trying to fix up. My agent's trying to get me to transform from America's bad boy to America's sweetheart."
Her eyes fall and her smile fades. "Oh. Of course. It's about your image."
I reach out and touch her arm. "No, that's not all. I do care about the veterans. My cousin Jeff was killed in Iraq in 2005. Didn't I tell you about that?"
"Oh. No, you didn't. Not that I can remember. I'm sorry."
I smile. "It's all right. It's always been a sore subject for me. We were close. He was like my big brother. But, anyway. I'm just grateful I can do something to help out. I only wish I had done it sooner."
"Can you even afford that much money?" she asks me, her eyes wide.
"Of course I can, honey," I smirk confidently. "I just got signed by the League. I'm a millionaire now."
"But it's only 3.5 million for a four year contr—" she stops. Her porcelain cheeks flare red.
"You know the exact dollar figure?" I chuckle. "You been keepin' tabs on me?"
"No!" she shakes her head adamantly. "I just, I think I read it in an article somewhere. Anyway, half a million still seems like a huge amount, a somewhat reckless amount if you ask me—"
"Anything for our vets," I wink. "Besides, I guess you must have missed my 2 million dollar sponsorship deal with Adidas."
"Oh."
"Yeah. I just signed it last Thursday. I got a half million signing bonus," I say. "So, I'm feeling pretty comfortable right now. Believe me, Hun', the state of my finances should be the least of your worries."
She crosses her arms and gives me a cheeky smile. "Oh yeah? What should I be worried about?"
I swoop my arm to showcase the vast room and the crowd who is clapping and cheering now after an apparently rousing speech that we missed.
"The veterans," I say confidently. "Obviously."
She raises a well-manicured eyebrow. "Ah, and here I thought I might have to start worrying about a certain Kade Franklin Hughes who seems intent on tracking me down and barging in on my life again."
I cringe at the sound of my middle name. My teammates at Riverside High crowned me Kade Fucking Hughes instead, and I vastly prefer that. If I weren't trying to play up my image as America's sweetheart, I just might want to get it legally changed.
"As I said, I'm just here for the veterans. Running into you happens to be a complete coincidence."
She smiles at my obvious lie. "Let me guess. You scoured the Google search results for my name. Unfortunately, you didn't find me on social media, no Facebook or Instagram photos to ogle over, much to your disappointment. But what you did find was my name in the list of staff for the Cooper Foundation's website."
Busted.
"Still as sharp as ever," I smile. "Too smart for your own good, I say."
"Uh huh," she shakes her head. Her eyes are creased at the sides and she's wearing a permanent smile that carries an edge. Whatever nerves I had before have disappeared. I feel as comfortable with her as I was in high school. It's like nothing's changed between us. The last five years or so have felt like a blur, a dream that has fallen away as quickly as it overtook us. As if we took a long nap and just woke up again, together, looking into each other's eyes.
"I really should be getting back," Willow says, craning her head towards the stage, where Mrs. Cooper has taken to the podium again, and seems to be wrapping everything up.
I follow Willow and we both stand at the back of the crowd, behind the dinner tables, listening.
"I'll let you all get back to eating and drinking in a moment," Mrs. Cooper says apologetically. "I'm sure you're tired of hearing my grating voice by now."
The audience laughs.
"I just wanted to bring attention to a brand new donor tonight, an unexpected guest who has surprised us all with his extreme generosity," she announces. She scans the room until she settles her eyes on me and grins. "Earlier this evening I was given a check for half a million dollars—"
She's interrupted by thunderous cheers. She holds up her hand and waits for a quiet moment to speak again. "—Gifted to us from Atlanta's very own elite quarterback, Kade Hughes!"
Heads turn in my direction curiously as the clapping and cheering continues.
"Thank you so much for your contribution, and thank you to everyone here tonight!"
I nod my head graciously.
I love being the center of attention, but I realize with sudden dread that now everyone and their uncle is gonna want to talk to me the rest of the night, and any alone time I hope to have with Willow will be cut short.
That's exactly what happens as the stagelights dim and the normal lighting returns, and the cello quartet resumes their music. I'm swarmed by people on every side, and it's a parade of shaking hands and polite, but
giddy smalltalk, along with selfie requests.
I'm happy to oblige, but looking around I realize with disappointment that Willow has already slipped away.
Willow
I'm watching Kade from a distance as he smiles and laughs, flashing those dazzling green eyes as he shakes hands and greets swarms of people. I finish off my fourth glass of champagne and I'm feeling the alcohol flowing through me now, though it's hard to distinguish between that and the pure adrenaline that's set my heart ablaze and my nerves on edge all evening.
I've already forgotten about my embarrassing speech. I no longer care all that much about making a good impression or pleasing Mrs. Cooper, or schmoozing with the crowd in the hopes of hustling more donations (I think I've got that part covered, with the $500k and all). Kade has completely taken over my thoughts and attention. Hijacked is an even more appropriate word.
I just can't believe he's here.
It's like a dream.
He's like a dream.
Watching him on TV, or even from a distance in the stadium, is a far cry from being face to face. He's the same as he ever was— the same boy from my past. The same smile, the same eyes, the same laugh. Only he's leveled up. He's bigger, taller, manlier, more chiseled. His voice is deeper, and the confidence that he oozes is more subdued and, dare I say, mature. Not that I think Kade Hughes is mature in the least— but at least he presents himself as more dignified, and less like an obnoxious frat boy. Or maybe it's the occasion and the suit that's doing it. I don't know. I'm not an expert.
I look around for a waiter to snag more champagne from when Mrs. Cooper appears and wraps her arm around my shoulder.
"So, Willow, what do you think about our celebrity guest?" She gushes. I can smell the alcohol on her breath and I know she's a few drinks deeper than I am.
"It's— he's— he's great," I stammer.
"Can you believe Kade Hughes is here right now?!" She shakes her head in disbelief.
