Page 111 of Your Last First Kiss
“It’s Mr. Brandt,” Duncan seethes.
“Mr. Brandt, if you’re nasty,” someone coughs from the crowd. When I meet the eyes of a man who can only be one of the Reid brothers, I raise a brow in silent appreciation. He shrugs and smiles like he lives to stir shit up.
“I think now is a good time to turn over the podium to Miller and”—he pauses for effect—“Mr. Henry,” Grady announces with an antagonizing flourish that’s completely unexpected from the growly biker slash accountant.
I can’t stop the chuckle that rumbles in my chest. He really does like to rib that asshat Duncan. Grady just went up a few hundred points in my book.
Miller takes his station at the podium like we’d planned for this portion of the presentation. Eli said his lifelong relationships will put people at ease instead of just throwing me at them. She’s right. As I watch the crowd’s excitement rise to match Miller’s, I can almost taste change in the air.
He gestures wildly with his hands when he explains certain programs he’s especially excited about. The tone of his voice goes higher when he discusses the change we want to be for the entire community.
When Brandt interrupts for a third time, Miller slams his fist on the podium, and I take that as my cue to step in, but not before Miller gets a parting shot. “You’ve gotten rich on the backs of good people in this town. You hide and hoard resources while climbing over every one of your neighbors. We believe we’re stronger together, and the success of one can be a win for all. Your time as the dictator of Chance Lake is over.”
“Highly doubtful,” Brandt replies, unfazed.
But Miller’s response has everyone else whispering in their seat.
Placing a hand on the podium, I give Miller’s shoulder a squeeze before sliding into his spot and adjusting the microphone.
“Hello. My name is Dillon Henry. I’m the new face of the TAC, but by no means does that mean I’m doing this on my own. I’m investing millions of dollars that were left to me with one stipulation: That I use it for good. I can’t think of a better good than investing in the lives of youth who grow up like I did.”
People are paying attention, which was my goal for this first part of my speech.
“Ashton Westbrook has matched my investment. Lochlan Blaine has agreed to run the hotel as a Bryer-Blaine property. That alone gives it a legitimacy we couldn’t have gotten on our own. Miller will be my partner in all things day-to-day, and is also investing, so he has a stake in making this work.”
My gaze drifts over to where Penny sits, toying with the ever-present elastic on her wrist, and I give her a comforting smile.
“Penny Mulligan,” I continue, “will oversee the hotel and everything that comes with it. But the rest is up to us. I hope that as a community, we can unite to make this the premier destination for youth sporting programs around the country.”
I take a moment to collect my thoughts before continuing and use that time to make eye contact with a few faces in the crowd. “A project this size has a million moving pieces that have to work in harmony to succeed. I want you all to be a part of that. Not only will the TAC bring jobs to the area, but business owners will have a fair shot at expanding within the property’s walls.”
“How so?” someone asks from the back of the room.
“Well, we’ll need a restaurant at the hotel. Heirlooms will have the first right of refusal for that space. The same goes for concessions within the hotel and inside the event spaces.
“Exhausted parents always need coffee, so there are plenty of opportunities for both coffee houses to have a place. We have plans and proposals for all businesses within the Chance Lake borders. From Tanks to Chancy’s, we want you to be a part of this success. The reason people keep coming back to this little town is because of its people. Now, I want to bring you and your energy to the TAC.”
“What if we can’t afford to branch out?” a man asks from a middle row. I think it’s Kyle Caldwell, the owner of Tanks, but it’s hard to tell with his ball cap pulled low.
It’s a good question. “The TAC can only be as successful as its people. All of its people. There will be concessions and opportunities for all who want and need to be a part of changing this community for the better.”
“Why should we trust you? How do we know you’re not just a suit waltzing in making empty promises?” fucking Duncan asks. If he thinks he can create a divide just because I’m new in town, he doesn’t have a goddamned clue how deep my investments go that have absolutely nothing to do with dollar amounts.
I tilt my head and take strength from Penny’s kind eyes staring at me like I’m responsible for every ray of light in her life, and I speak from the heart.
“I’m here for the long haul, Duncy.” This earns me a chuckle from the crowd. “I’m invested. The kind of invested that doesn’t come from a bank, but from the heart. I won’t be leaving unless I’m taken against my will. This, Chance Lake, the people, this is the home I’ve always been searching for.”
My eyes never drift from Penny’s as I speak, and her eyes sparkle with a mix of love and fear that catch in the overhead lighting.
Eli hip-checks me when I don’t notice her at my side. I walk toward Penny, and Eli takes over.
“Hello, I’m Eli Camden. I’m a consultant for Mr. Henry and company because I specialize in after-school programs for underprivileged youth. And I can tell you from personal experience, I’ve never seen a more committed group of people. They want this for you as much as they do for themselves, and they’re playing the long game. No shortcuts will be taken, but I can also tell you that all who want to be involved will have the opportunity.” She pauses to make eye contact with as many in the crowd as she can.
“We’re working out those details now, and all we need from you is permission to break ground. Someone within the TAC will be reaching out to each business owner over the next two weeks so we can get all the information to the architects. We’re not asking for an investment from you yet, only a verbal commitment to consider it.”
“And a vote allowing us to proceed,” Miller interrupts.
I stand behind Penny with my hands resting possessively on her shoulders as Grady returns to the podium.
