Page 110 of The CEO I Hate

Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Einstein.I could almost hear the snark in her tone, and I couldn’t help but grin as another text popped up.It says, ‘press conference with mayor.’ Was that a typo?

Not a typo,I wrote back.I really am inviting you to a press conference with the mayor.

I think you’ve lost it, Smiles.

My heart skipped a beat. I never thought I’d be so damn happy to see that nickname. She followed it up with a string of five question marks, and it made me chuckle. She was getting impatient.

I replied by forwarding her a copy of the press release from VeriTV Studios, which announced that I would be holding a press conference tomorrow to present the mayor with a check, the money earmarked for the Los Angeles Public Library system.

Mia disappeared for a moment. She must have been reading the press release. I tried not to panic as she did.

Is this real?she typed after a couple of minutes.

Yes, I replied.

The press release explained that the money was to be used to build and fund a series of writing rooms in libraries across the city—rooms specifically designed for children interested in the arts. A place where it would be safe for them to explore their ideas and unpack their imaginations.

My goal was to create a space that would foster the creation of story worlds using the very best technology, tools, and art supplies. All of which would be provided by the new VeriTV Young Creatives Initiative.

There was a long pause again, and I worried that I’d lost her, that my plan had completely missed the mark. But then?—

The Young Creatives Initiative?

I thought it was time for VeriTV to do some real good, I wrote.And I remembered you telling me how difficult it was not having the support of your parents growing up. I thought that maybe there are other kids like you out there, brilliant and talented and just in need of a safe space to have those talents flourish.

Another long pause. Maybe I hadn’t explained it right.

Where are you?Mia wrote after a beat.

I snapped a selfie, making sure to capture the bakery display case and the cash register in the background where the Beans & Brews logo was noticeable. I fired it off to her. There was no response.

But five minutes later, Mia walked through the door, and my breath caught. There was a fire in her eyes as she paused to take me in before making her way to my table. Her jaw was tight, her eyes slightly narrowed as she reached me. I stood.

“This is what you think is romantic?” she said. “Meeting in a café?”

I knew she was aiming for snarky, but I could also hear the tremor in her voice and see the way her chin wobbled. She was barely holding herself together.

“This was where you rightly first called me out for ignoring you,” I said. “Which is something I’m never, ever going to do again. So I suppose it felt fitting. A real full-circle moment.” I tried for a smile. “You writers like those, don’t you?”

Mia crossed her arms, shaking her head.

I barely managed to keep myself from reaching for her. “I mean it, Mia. From here on in, you’re it. You’re number one.”

She scoffed, blinking hard. “Liam…these are just more nice words. They’re not what I need to hear.”

“I know that,” I said, ducking my head to catch her eye. “Ido. And that’s why these aren’t going to be more nice words.”

She pursed her lips.

“You said that for the years I’ve known you, I never had any interest in getting to know what was going on with you, but that’s just not true, Mia. I heard you when you spoke about growing up and not getting the support you wanted and needed from your parents. And Iwish I could go back and be that person for you. That I could tell you what a brilliant writer you’re going to grow up to be.”

Her jaw trembled.

“But you managed to find success all on your own because you’re strong and determined and have the talent to back it up. So maybe I couldn’t change things for you, but I thought maybe I could give other kids who are struggling a chance. Give them somewhere they can let their creativity go wild and find a community that believes in them.”

Mia wiped at the corner of her eye. “That’s going to make a huge difference to a lot of kids,” she said. “If I’d had somewhere like that to go…If I?—”

“I know,” I said, finally reaching for her, unable to hold back any longer. I took her hands in mine, relieved when she let me. “I thought—if you were interested—that we could put together a team of creatives to offer free workshops. You could teach the kids about writing webcomics. We could even offer some screenwriting courses.” I squeezed her hands. “We could give these kids what you always wanted. Support. The freedom to dream.”

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