Page 36 of Rebellious Hearts
Ben looked pleased. “Well, that’s the plan. I hope it will. If this thing actually goes through.”
“I still don’t see how it won’t,” I argued.
“Richard doesn’t give a shit about the money aspect and the long-term profitability, the sustainability about it all. He’s just focused on helping the people, doing what his wife would have done.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Isn’t the whole point of reviving the town to help the people?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s job creation and whatever. But it’s also about money. If it’s not, it’s not good business, and Richard doesn’t seem to think that money matters. Charity is all well and good, but it doesn’t get anyone anywhere.”
I shook my head, shocked at his words. “You can’t mean that.”
“Okay, okay. Let me rephrase,” Ben said, holding up one hand in defense. “I’m not saying charity is bad. By all means, people who work to help others are great, and the world would be a horrible place if we didn’t have them. Hell, my sister-in-law is an environmental activist and all about non-profit, and she makes a hell of a lot of changes in the world. I don’t mean that at all.”
“Then what do you mean?” I was getting irritated with Ben. He was so set on everyone seeing his point of view that he refused to do the same and see what someone else was getting at.
“All I’m saying is that in this project, giving all our money away isn’t going to help anyone in the long term. Richard seems set on doing just that—helping everyone in any way he can. Sometimes, you have to establish a big business by putting a lot of money intothatto make the differences everyone is so set on making.”
I understood what Ben was trying to say. Sort of. But God, he talked about money a lot.
“You’re missing the point,” I said.
“How?”
“I get what you’re trying to say about the money and focusing on the business aspect, but you’re set on ignoring the human side of it.”
“Because right now, the human side of it isn’t going to get this project up and running,” Ben countered.
“Yeah, but without the human side of it, the project wouldn’t exist in the first place.”
Ben opened his mouth to argue, sawed it without finding the words, and closed it again.
“You’re very much against Richie for being so set on helping people, but I think it’s admirable that he wants to keep the work his late wife did going. Besides, you’re so worried about the scale tipping too far to one side that you’re just asking for it to tip too far to the other side.”
Ben gasped. “Are you telling me I’m wrong?”
“Everyone is wrong once in a while, Ben. Even a Blackwood.”
I didn’t get the idea that anyone had ever talked to Ben like that. His eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at me.
“You know you’re workingforme, right?”
“I’m here as a partner on this project, not as someone you get to boss around,” I said firmly. “We’re here to make things work, and without understanding Richie’s outlook on human involvement and giving the people not only what theyneedbut also what theywant, nothing’s going to happen.”
Ben was getting angrier and angrier. He’d lowered the cup he’d been sipping his disgusting coffee from, and what was left of both our slices of cake remained untouched. The tension was thick in the room, our anger crackling around us like static.
I wasn’t sure who was more pissed off, but I wasn’t going to back down from Ben, no matter who and what he was in this world.
At the end of the day, just like anyone else out there, Ben was also human.
It seemed like he’d forgotten that or saw himself as some kind of Blackwood god or something.
“You’re not wrong,” Ben said, and for a moment, I felt the thrill of victory in this argument. “But without the money Blackwood Inc. brings to the company, it won’t matter how many people Richard wants to help. It won’t happen, either.”
“For someone with as much money as you have, you talk about it an awful lot,” I snapped. “Is that all that matters to you? Money?”
“Of course not,” Ben said, glancing around, angry.
There weren’t other patrons in the dining room, and I was glad about that.
