Page 28 of Worth the Risk
When I return to our table, Maya is pretending to review documents, but tension radiates from her shoulders.
“Bad news?” she asks.
“Board pressure.” I sit down, running a hand through my hair. “They want concrete timelines and measurable outcomes.”
“What kind of timelines?”
“The kind that end with definitive decisions about Highland’s future.” I meet her gaze directly. “Maya, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me.”
“Okay.”
“If the collaboration concludes that preservation isn’t financially viable—if the numbers don’t work—what happens then?”
She’s quiet for a moment. “Then Highland fights. Legal challenges, bigger protests, public battles that make last month’s media coverage look restrained.”
“Even if it means destroying any chance of negotiated relocation assistance?”
“Highland’s value isn’t just financial, Declan. Sometimes you have to fight for things that matter, even when the odds are impossible.”
Her answer is exactly what I expected and exactly what Harrison fears. Maya won’t back down quietly if our collaboration fails.
“What are you thinking?” Maya asks.
“I’m thinking that we need to make this work.” I lean forward, lowering my voice. “Not just for Highland, not just for Pierce Enterprises, but because the alternative is a battle that will hurt everyone involved.”
“And how do we make it work?”
“By giving the board something concrete. Timelines, financial projections, proof that historic preservation isn’t just theoretical.”
Maya nods, opening another folder. “Tito Ricky thinks we can get preliminary historic designation approval within two weeks if we file the right paperwork. That would provide legal protection while we develop detailed preservation plans.”
“Two weeks.” I consider the timeline. “Maya, I need you to understand something about Pierce Enterprises’ board. They’re not patient people, and they’re not sentimental about community preservation. If we’re going to convince them, weneed overwhelming evidence that preserving Highland is more profitable than demolishing it.”
“I understand.” Maya’s expression grows serious. “What do you need from me?”
“Complete financial transparency. Highland’s operating costs, maintenance requirements, projected renovation expenses—everything. No surprises, no optimistic estimates, just hard numbers.”
“You’ll have them.” She pauses. “What do you need from yourself?”
The question catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that Harrison’s phone call obviously rattled you. And not just because of board pressure.”
I study her face, noting the genuine concern in her expression. She’s asking about more than business strategy. She’s asking whether I can handle the personal complications of working closely with her while maintaining professional objectivity.
“I need to stay focused on solutions instead of...” I trail off, unsure how to finish honestly.
“Instead of?”
“Instead of thinking about kissing you in Highland’s storage room. About the way you felt in my arms.” The admission comes out rougher than I intended. “Maya, I need to be completely honest with you about something.”
“What?”
“Harrison asked if I’m maintaining appropriate professional boundaries with you.” I meet her gaze directly. “The truthful answer is no. I’m not.”
Her breath catches slightly. “Declan?—”
“I like you. More than I should like you, considering our situation.” The word like is an understatement. After four weeks of collaboration that’s become the best part of my days, after Friday night when she kissed me back like she’d been waiting for it as long as I had, I’m falling for Maya with a certainty that should terrify me. “And I think you like me, too.”
