Page 32 of Just The Way You Aren’t (Last Billionaire Standing #1)

"He helps deliver meals," I say, smiling. Damien looks down at the table, and I swear I see a hint of color rise in his cheeks. But I won’t be deterred. Not now that I’m here and I have the full attention of the room.

"Last week, he spent an hour fixing Mrs. Baumgartner's stove so she could cook her own food instead of relying on delivery services.

And he calls bingo for our seniors—you should see him with them.

He's patient, kind... He really listens to people. "

"Damien Langley can fix a stove?" someone echoes, looking incredulous.

"Mr. Langley does a lot more than people realize," I continue, finding my rhythm.

"I've watched him spend hours listening to our clients' concerns, helping solve problems that seem small but mean everything to them.

He brings the same attention to detail to Silver Hearts that I'm sure he brings to all his projects. "

The room has fallen completely silent. Damien looks like he's torn between pride and embarrassment.

Ben straightens in his chair. "You mean he actually listens?"

"For as long as it takes," I confirm. "I've seen him sit with Mr. Fitzgerald while he explained why a particular chair placement mattered for his arthritis. Damien took notes, adjusted the room layout, then checked back the next week to make sure it was working."

Damien's expression shifts from embarrassment to something I can't quite read—maybe pride mixed with surprise that I noticed these details.

"That's... not what I expected," Ben admits quietly.

"May I ask what you're working on here?" I venture. "Damien's mentioned Guardian Productions, but I don't want to overstep."

"Sound studio acoustics," Ben replies. "I compose most of our scores, but the current design won't produce the quality we need. I've been trying to explain, but..." He gestures helplessly at the screens.

"Could you show me?" I ask. I see Damien lean forward slightly, his business instincts kicking in as he watches Ben respond positively to me. "I might not understand the technical aspects,” I tell him, “but I'd love to hear your perspective."

Ben's face lights up—it's the first genuine expression I've seen from him. He stands and moves to the display, pointing at various elements as he explains the acoustic challenges. I listen intently, asking questions not about the technicalities but about his vision, his goals, his concerns.

"You see what I mean?" Ben says after explaining the issues. "The reverberation patterns just won't work for orchestral recording."

I nod, then turn to Damien. "What do you think? Is there a way to adjust the design to meet Mr. Walt's needs while staying within the project parameters?"

Damien straightens in his chair, and for a moment, I see his CEO mask slip back into place as he considers the problem.

He’s processing, putting pieces together.

"Actually," he says slowly, "if we modified the wall treatments here and here.

.." He stands and begins pointing at the screen.

"Would this help with the reverberation issues you mentioned? "

Ben studies the screen, then breaks into a smile—the first I've seen from him today. "That could work. And if we adjusted this acoustic panel configuration..."

As the two of them begin collaborating, the energy in the room transforms. Other executives chime in with questions and suggestions. Fred Walt reaches for the plate of cookies Rhonda had brought in earlier.

"These are incredible," he says, taking a bite. "Homemade?"

"Rhonda made them," Damien pipes in, smiling. And damn if that rare, incredible smile doesn’t create its own brand of magic in the room.

"Your assistant made cookies for our meeting?" Darlene Walt asks, looking surprised and delighted.

"Rhonda's the best," Damien says, glancing up from the screen where he and Ben are now deep in discussion. "She's been with the company since my father started it."

"Loyalty like that is rare," Steven observes, looking at his family members meaningfully. “It says something about a company, as well as the people working there.”

Nods and warming expressions make the rounds at the table, while Damien catches my eye and holds my gaze. His lips silently form the words “Thank you” before he returns his attention to the business at hand.

Darlene Walt invites me to take one of the empty chairs, pushing the tray of cookies toward me. I can’t resist indulging while I watch as the meeting continues for another hour. Whatever the mood in the room had been when they started, the atmosphere has completely changed now.

Ben and Damien work through the acoustic challenges together, finding creative solutions that satisfy both the technical requirements and the budget constraints.

Steven and Darlene weigh in now and then with ideas and suggestions, which get Damien’s patient attention and thoughtful consideration.

By the time everyone prepares to leave, handshakes are warm and genuine.

As the Walt family prepares to go, Ben pulls me aside. "Willow," he says softly, "thank you. I haven't felt heard in a professional setting in years."

"You have important things to say," I reply. "I'm glad you were able to see that your input is valued."

He smiles, then surprises me by hugging me. "If Langley doesn't make this work with you, send him my way. I'll tell him how foolish he's being."

I blush. "Oh, it’s not like that… I mean, we're just?—"

"Don't," he interrupts gently. "I've watched him look at you during this meeting. And more importantly, I can see how he’s changed in recent weeks—for the better. I suspect you have a lot to do with that. If he’s smart, he’ll hang onto you."

I glance Damien’s way and feel my cheeks warm. “Well, thank you, Mr. Walt.”

“Please, call me Ben.” He offers me a fatherly smile. “It was a pleasure talking with you today, Willow.”

As the executives file out, Steven lingers behind. "Thank you," he says simply. "You saved this meeting."

"Damien saved the meeting," I correct. "I just helped everyone remember why you're working together in the first place."

Steven nods thoughtfully. "I'll remember that." He glances at Damien. "Don't mess this up, Langley. She's a keeper."

Once we're alone, Damien closes his eyes and exhales slowly. "I cannot believe what just happened."

"You mean the part where you and Ben figured out a solution that makes everyone happy?"

"I mean the part where you appeared out of nowhere and somehow turned a complete disaster into..." He gestures helplessly. "This."

I move closer to him. "You're the one who knew the technical solutions. I just helped create space for communication."

He cups my face in his hands. "You're incredible. Do you know that?"

"I think you might be a little biased," I tease.

"Maybe," he admits, leaning down to kiss me softly. "But I'm also right."

When we pull apart, he wraps his arms around me. "What were you doing here anyway? Please tell me this wasn't some elaborate plan."

I laugh. "I was dress shopping. Have you seen the prices at Bella's? I might have to show up to our fundraiser in jeans."

"Absolutely not," he says firmly. "We'll figure something out." He pauses. "Wait, were you really just here by accident?"

"Complete accident," I confirm. "Though I'm starting to think there might be something to Mrs. Baumgartner's theory about fate."

"What theory?"

"That some things are just meant to happen."

Damien's expression softens as he draws me close for a kiss. "Maybe she's onto something."