Page 51 of Hart of Hope
He half smiled, giving him a boyish look. “I know you, baby girl. You might be hungry but…”
“So you kiss me to take away my demons?”
“The kiss was something I had to do.” He chuckled. “But if it helped, I could do it again.”
I busted out laughing, and it felt freeing.
“After we return to Boston, why don’t we have dinner like you suggested?” he asked.
“Like a date?”
His fingers danced along my cheek. “If that’s what you want to call it. And before you ask about Duke, I’ll handle him.”
“No argument out of me.” Once again, I was over the moon. But I didn’t want to celebrate yet. The way the night was going, my emotions were on a roller coaster ride. I gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I accept your invitation.”
He tucked a wispy hair behind my ear. “I’m not about to piss off your brother. So we do this right.”
My heart rammed against my chest, and a smile broke free. “Ever the gentleman.”
When we finally returned to our seats, I felt like I was walking on air, that maybe I had a future that was bright and sunny instead of dark and dreary. That maybe Brian was my knight in shining armor.
An hour later, after my belly was full and my heart was beating steadily, I felt somewhat human as I looked around the room. During dinner, I had learned from Fran that the college grad I’d met in the hallway was Josh Kinley. He was Ryan’s mentor at the Boys & Girls Clubs of America.
I had intended to apologize to Josh for being rude and weird, but he’d left halfway through dinner.
Dean Foster, a woman in her late forties, walked up to the podium on stage. “Before I bring up Mr. Taylor from Banyan Energy, I want to say thank you to all the students, guests, and parents for making this night special.”
The voices died down as parents, teachers, and students focused on the dean.
She adjusted the mic. “The students work hard year-round on their studies, projects, and volunteer work with the community. I’m extremely proud of every one of them. But tonight, we honor those on the science track who have built projects that could impact the world one day. So, Mr. Taylor”—she glanced at a sharply dressed bald man standing off to the side—“you have the floor.”
He crossed the stage, carrying three yellow envelopes that he placed on the podium. “Thank you, Dean Foster. I’m overly impressed by each student who submitted and presented a project yesterday. All of you have worked tirelessly, and your dedication shows in your projects.” He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. “Unfortunately, we can’t hand out scholarships to everyone, but we have decided to award three talented students. Two of them will receive partial funds to offset their college tuition while one will receive a full scholarship to a university of their choice.”
Fran was holding her breath, attention glued to Mr. Taylor.
“I’ll announce the partial scholarships first,” Mr. Taylor said.
Brian rubbed his daughter’s back. “Breathe, sweetie.”
She grabbed his hand and gazed at her dad. “I’m so nervous.”
Watching the exchange between father and daughter had envy filling my veins. I’d never had a doting father, a protector, a man who would die for his children. At that moment, I despised my dad more than I thought possible for the way my life turned out.
“Mr. Caleb Bradshaw.” Mr. Taylor swung his gaze around the room.
“He’s good,” Fran said. “His project on bacteria analysis to reduce energy costs at wastewater plants is brilliant.”
Miss Amara Francis was the next name announced.
Fran shuddered, staring at the stage.
“Sweetie, I’m a strong man, but my hand is numb,” Brian said.
Without relinquishing her hold on her dad, she nodded, seemingly not caring one bit about how hard she was squeezing.
“I would like to take a moment to say a few words about the winner of the full scholarship before I announce the name. This student has one of the most brilliant minds that I’ve come across in a long time. Her project is one that has the potential to impact the energy sector, reducing emissions and providing cost-effective solutions to produce energy.” Excitement wove through Mr. Taylor’s tone.
Fran briefly regarded Brian with wide eyes. “Do you?—”
