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"Because Worcester isn't some gray backdrop to our ambitions," Victor goes on, his gaze finally catching mine. It's like he's speaking directly to me, and my throat tightens. "This city pulses with creativity, from Main Street to The Muse where I shared unforgettable moments, to the quaint coffee shops brewing with local charm."
He's talking about us—about that evening at The Muse, the laughter, the moments we shared. How did that flip his world upside down?
"Which is why I've not only tweaked major aspects of the design but also incorporated changes..." His voice trails off, and he looks almost vulnerable up there.
"Changes?" Samantha leans in, whispering. I barely hear her.
"Changes," I repeat, more to myself than anyone else. Because suddenly, it's not just about lines on blueprints. It's about him acknowledging the heartbeat of Worcester—and maybe understanding mine.
With a click, the room dims and the projector hums to life. Victor's figure casts a long shadow as the first images splash across the screen—renderings of buildings, green spaces, people.
"Here," he says, voice steady as steel but with an undercurrent of something else, "we see Greystone's future—an art center, right in the heart of our development."
The image on the screen morphs into a sleek, modern building, its glass facade reflecting the imaginary sky. The label beneath it reads 'Community Art Center.'
"Imagine this," he gestures towards the image, "as a cradle for creativity. A place where children can come after school to explore their talents, where they're safe to express themselves."
I lean forward, my hands clasped so tight my knuckles blanch. It's like he's plucked the dreams straight from my head, given them form. I can almost hear the laughter of kids, smell the paint and clay.
"Furthermore," Victor continues, his piercing blue eyes scanning the crowd before resting momentarily on me, "we'll be inviting local artists to not only decorate the walls but to impart their knowledge, teaching classes, fostering a new generation of Worcester's talent."
My vision blurs, tears welling unbidden. This is more than just business for him; it's personal. He's seen the soul of our city through my eyes, felt its rhythm in his own heart.
Victor's voice grows stronger as he says, "To show just how committed we are to this city and its spirit, we're moving our permanent headquarters from Boston to Worcester."
Gasps and murmurs erupt around me. I sit there, stunned, as Victor explains that the new headquarters will occupy one of the office buildings to be constructed.
"He's really doing it," Emily breathes beside me. "He's changing everything."
I nod, a tear finally escaping down my cheek. "Yeah," I whisper. "He really is."
The crowd's murmurs grow louder, a mix of excitement and disbelief rippling through the room. I lean forward, straining to hear Victor's next words over the buzz.
"However," he says, his voice steady but loud enough to cut through the chatter, "all the blueprints and permits in the world can't infuse this project with what it truly needs—the heart of Worcester."
I blink, trying to clear the mist from my eyes. My friends, Samantha, Jessica, and Emily, are all looking at me, their expressions a mix of shock and awe.
"Because let's face it," Victor continues, his hands open and inviting, "we're builders, not creators. We can erect structures, lay foundations, but the soul... the soul comes from the community."
He pauses, a master conductor holding the room in suspense. I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. What is he playing at?
"And there's someone here who embodies that spirit. Someone who’s fought for this city's integrity every step of the way."
My breath catches. No, he wouldn’t...
"Which is why," Victor's voice booms now, commanding attention, "I'm entrusting the creative direction and oversight of the Greystone Development to Avery Bennett."
Gasps ripple through the crowd like a wave crashing onshore. My name echoes in my head, a surreal chant. I'm rooted to the spot, my heart thundering against my ribcage.
"Me?" The word slips out before I can stop it, barely a whisper.
"Yes, Avery," Victor says, and though he speaks to the room, those words are meant only for me. "You've shown us what Worcester truly is. It's only right you help us build it."
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Victor
My voice ringsout steady and clear as I address the board, but inside, my stomach's doing somersaults. The row of stern faces before me blur into a sea of expectant stares. I grip the edge of the podium, willing my hands not to shake.