Page 6 of The Billionaire's Service

“How old is Nicolas?”

I drummed my fingers on the table. “He turns 39 next month.”

Cynthia squeezed my hand harder. “Now, listen to me, and I say all of this out of my love for you.”

“Thank you.” I listened intently as Cynthia spoke.

“Nicolas is nearly twice as old as you and Kyle were. That means he is an adult. He thinks like an adult. He feels emotions like an adult. He didn’t take you on a trip using your mother’s credit card.”

“I see that, but—“Cynthia placed a finger on my lips to stop me.

“Taylor is just out of college. I’m willing to accept that part of Nicolas’ interest in you is your relative youth.”

I growled and Cynthia stopped speaking. She reached up and brushed my bangs away from my eyebrows. “Okay, yes, you are still young, and I’m sure he likes that about you. However, Taylor is merely a boy comparatively speaking, and, despite your misdirected concerns, you are a man. I’m confident Nicolas can see the difference. Now, it’s time for me to step off my soapbox, and it’s time for you to act like a man.”

I smiled weakly and understood Cynthia’s line of reasoning. I got caught up in seeing Taylor as a rival man. She was right that he was only a boy by comparison to Nicolas and me.

I said, “Thank you. I appreciate this. You do know how to talk me down from the edge.”

Cynthia leaned across the table. “And don’t screw it up. From my point of view, Nicolas is an amazing catch, and he’s crazy about you.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “I’ll do my best, but don’t forget, you were wrong about him once before.”

Cynthia hung her head. “Yes, guilty. That wasn’t one of my shining moments.”

* * *

I left lunch with Cynthia feeling reassured. Our meal unfolded almost like a therapy situation. My head snapped back into place, and I shifted my concentration to my other tasks for the afternoon.

The top priority on my schedule was attending the first meeting of the promotional committee for our city non-violence project. My memories of committee work from college days weren’t positive. I always completed my work as promised, but I usually ended up covering the work of other group members before the project ended. I hoped my new committee would be a different kind of experience.

Steven asked me to make the arrangements for the group, and I reserved a room at the public library downtown for the first meeting. Seven people filed into the room and seated themselves around the table. Turnout was one hundred percent.

Steven also secured representation from the city administrator’s office—a woman named Rosa. She introduced herself as the second in command. Her official title was Assistant City Administrator. She said that meant that she got everything done that happened behind the scenes. Rosa smiled warmly and reported that Steven’s upbeat assessment of me preceded our meeting. She sat to my right at the large round table.

Nobody was assigned the chairman role on the committee in advance. Rosa arrived with a tentative agenda and asked if anyone had concerns about her kicking the session off. Sighs of relief spread around the table as she asked her question. The first agenda item was the selection of a chair.

All of the committee members were unfamiliar to me. I heard a few of the names in passing at previous charity events, but I had no other connections with the professionals seated around me. Three were bright-eyed and excited, two were harried and fidgeted while Rosa spoke, and the final member appeared to be concentrating on anything but the present meeting.

I confess that I was not fully concentrating on Rosa’s comments. My concerns about Taylor were still swimming around in my head even though Cynthia managed to reduce the grinding worry. I turned toward Rosa when I heard my name, and my mouth dropped open when she said, “All who are in favor of appointing Ryan Rowley chair of our committee, raise your right hand.”

I wanted to shout, “Wait!” but I heard Nicolas’ words echoing in my head.

He said, “You need to take part. This community has needs that you can fill. You have untapped talents that you should share.”

I pledged to Nicolas that I would reach out and actively work for community improvements. Rosa handed me the first real test of my new commitment. I swallowed hard when everyone around the table raised their right hands. They elected me chair by a unanimous vote.

My stomach churned when Rosa offered her congratulations. I wasn’t sure whether the smiles around the rest of the table were reflections of support or merely expressions of relief that they didn’t get caught assuming the position of chair of the committee.

Rosa pushed the agenda in front of me. “Don’t worry, Ryan. I’ll help you through the first meeting if you would like, but then we’re all at your disposal. I’m confident you’ll be an outstanding chair.”

I wasn’t quite as confident about my future success as Rosa, but I knew that Nicolas would be pleased. He believed my direct service to him personally was important in our intimate relationship, but he wanted me to learn more about serving everyone. He wanted me to embrace the entire community.

Nicolas explained that service to others was a way of serving him, too. When he spoke that way, an indescribable warmth swept through me and a realization that I was finding a place in the broader community at last. I was slowly emerging as more than the sum of my family’s money.

As the meeting proceeded, Rosa turned more control over to me. It was easier than I expected. I followed along with the agenda and encouraged my fellow committee members to speak.

We didn’t make any specific decisions about future actions. Instead, we spent the ninety minutes sharing concerns and ideas about possible courses of action. We decided to adopt three priorities—writing a series of op-ed pieces for the local newspaper, booking radio appearances (I gulped when Rosa suggested me as a “perfect” radio spokesman), and planning an annual public event to confront violence in the community.

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