Page 41 of Sunny Skies Ahead (Watford Sweethearts #2)

Chapter thirty

Imogen

T he Warrior’s Foundation building was a skyscraper like any other, but walking through the doors, my heels clacking on the marble floors, I felt completely out of place.

The lobby boasted a long, cascading waterscape and custom made light fixtures from a prominent local artist. I’d never dreamed of the city life, certainly not in the way my sister or my friends had.

Being back in Seattle was a reminder that I didn’t want this life.

I adjusted my laptop bag and headed for the security desk.

“Hi, I’m Imogen Phillips. I’m with Winding Road Recovery. My executive director is presenting to the grant proposal board today.”

I didn’t know where this confidence was coming from, though I suspected it had something to do with the thrill of waking up next to Kameron this morning.

He’d gotten an early start at 4 a.m., wanting to get a run in before he showed up early for the preliminary meet and greet with the two other nonprofits.

I didn’t dare question it as the security guard checked my I.D.

against their logs and then handed me a temporary badge.

“The boardroom is on the third floor,” the woman said, gesturing towards the elevators to our left. “There’s signage along the way.”

“Thanks,” I said, flashing her a smile.

I hung the badge around my neck and made my way to the elevator, pressing the up button and stepping back to wait. When they opened, Kameron was standing in the elevator, arms crossed over his chest. I stepped inside, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

“There you are,” Kameron said, smirking as the doors shut behind us. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I told you I planned to be here at late,” I said, smiling. “Presentations don’t start for another hour.”

“Yeah, well, I just threw up because I’m so nervous, and seeing your face an hour earlier would have done me a world of good.”

“I’m here now,” I said, reaching for his hand and linking our fingers together. Kameron’s wobbly, excitedly nervous smile made my heart stutter. The elevator doors opened, and we exited together. I reluctantly let go of his hand now that we were around other people.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“We got an overview of the Warrior’s Foundation and their mission this morning. We have a few minutes of reset time before the brunch hour starts. ”

I grimaced. “Surely they’re not making you mingle with the other organizations competing for the grant?”

“All in the name of community,” Kameron said, quoting part of the foundation’s mission statement. I sighed.

“Have you talked with the other executive directors?”

“Not yet,” Kameron said. “We’re the only nonprofit here that deals directly with veterans. One nonprofit advocates for teenagers and young adults facing cancer, and the other works directly with children rescued from the sex trafficking industry.

I let out a long breath.

“Both are good causes,” I said.

“They’re all good causes,” Kameron said as we started walking towards the large glass doors that led into a large conference room.

“That’s what makes the nonprofit grant process so grueling.

I don’t envy the selection committee. This grant is a big deal, and any of the three nonprofits could change hundreds of lives with more support. ”

Upon entering the room, men and women in suits immediately surrounded us. I felt slightly underdressed in my white button up, knit cardigan, and slacks, but I also wouldn’t be at the front of the room for the presentation. I’d be in the room, but towards the back.

“You must be Kameron Miller,” one gentleman said, extending a hand to Kam. “I’m Jackson Smithfield, executive director of. . .”

Jackson immediately launched into his elevator speech about the nonprofit he worked for and their mission, all while guiding Kameron towards the refreshment station. Kameron briefly looked back over his shoulder at me, and I gave him a small wave of encouragement.

He only had to survive small talk for this next hour. When the presentations finished, we would be free to go. I’d never been more excited about the prospect of heading back to the tiny house. I’d be ready to hibernate for a week after the amount of socializing I’d need to do today.

I turned to walk towards the outer rim of people when I bumped into a familiar body. Lucas had finally deigned to show up.

“Really? This is the day you decide to show up late?”

“I had a late night,” was all Lucas said.

I wanted to strangle him, but I politely refrained from messing up his beautifully pressed button up.

Kameron’s loud laugh reached my ears, and I turned toward his voice, watching with amusement as he made a beeline for the water station. I pushed past the throng of people to get to him, knowing Lucas could stand on his own. He was far better at mingling than either of us was.

“Hey,” I said. Kameron turned to face me and I saw the panic etched into the sharp lines of his bearded face.

Without considering where we were or who was watching, I slid my fingers into between his, squeezing firmly. A reminder of everything we’d shared the previous night.

“You’ve got this.”

“You’ll be in the room, right?” Kameron asked, his eyes searching mine. I smiled and nodded.

“I’ll be towards the back, following along. Specifically, I’ll be making sure the slideshow is matched to what you’re saying. ”

Kameron let out a small laugh and leaned closer to me, our chests brushing. If anyone was watching—and someone undoubtedly was, given how packed the room was—I knew we looked more like lovers than we did coworkers.

“Imogen? Is that you?”

I turned to face the woman, and my heart stopped when I saw her face.

No. It couldn’t be.

“I’m sorry, I must have missed your name,” I said, quickly scanning her chest for a name tag, even as my heart lurched in my throat. It couldn’t be her.

She laughed too brightly and waved a hand dismissively.

“You’re so funny,” she said, and my stomach heaved. Definitely her. “My name is Claudia. Technically, I suppose I’m your ex-sister-in-law, but I’m here representing the Kilpatrick Collective.”

Kilpatrick . I was going to be sick.

“Right,” I said, still keeping my neutral smile plastered on my face. “You all work with children who have been rescued from sex trafficking.”

Jacob’s sister. Jacob’s sister was here .

She didn’t know.

I was certain she didn’t know, because if she had, I can’t imagine she would so brazenly approach me and re-introduce herself like we’d ever been close.

She was older than us. I’d met her once when she came to visit Jacob at Camp Pendleton, and it had been a brief interaction. Jacob had been eager to get rid of her—for reasons that were painfully obvious to me now .

“Correct,” Claudia said, as if my remembering the basic gist of her nonprofit meant I’d passed her quiz.

“This opportunity is so crucial to reaching more families. Our work is so necessary in this day and age. There are many organizations that focus on logistics of rescuing survivors, but few that focus on supporting the intense recovery that comes after the rescue.”

I fought to keep my expression interested.

I’d envisioned this brunch hour as a place where people could network, and not as a sales pitch for our various nonprofits.

It felt competitive in a way that made my skin itch.

Every nonprofit was important. We all served different communities, and there wasn’t a hierarchy.

Any of the three nonprofits represented today could do amazing work with the money and support bolstered by the grant.

Claudia and I hadn’t been close. We could barely be considered acquaintances. But this. . .

Anger swelled in my chest, swift and violent.

I knew the world existed in various shades of gray. I knew nothing was ever black and white, and nowhere was that more obvious than in the decisions people made. Claudia’s brother was capable of such horrible things, and yet here she was, leading a nonprofit that saved women from a life of horrors.

It was sickeningly ironic.

Several long seconds passed, and I realized Claudia was expecting a response. Right—this was a conversation, and it was my turn to talk.

But all I could do was stare at her.

Kameron had stayed silent up to this point .

“Kilpatrick,” I murmured, and his eyes widened as the words sank in. I gave him a small nod to say yes, that Kilpatrick. Kam pressed closer to me, wrapping a hand around my shoulder. I’d never been more grateful for his comforting presence than right now.

“We’re all here representing nonprofits that help people. In that sense, it’s a competition. But you don’t have to come after other nonprofits to build yourself up, Claudia,” Kam said.

God, he was perfect.

“I wasn’t saying—”

“I know it wasn’t your intention, but we’re telling you that’s how it comes across,” I said, politely interjecting.

I wanted the final say in this conversation not because of the principle of it, but because I was about to walk away from this situation entirely and I didn’t want her to misunderstand my meaning.

“There are many valuable causes in the world. We should lift each other up, even in the sometimes cutthroat world of grant proposals and securing funding for those causes. I wish you the best of luck today. And I truly mean that. No matter what the results end up being.”

I gave her the most genuine smile I could muster and pulled Kameron’s hand down to link his fingers with mine again.

“Excuse me. I need to spend some time with my team before our presentation,” I said.

I pushed past Claudia, keeping my hand in Kameron’s, mentally counting the steps until I made it back to Lucas, who was gawking beside the breakfast table .

“That might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever done,” Kameron whispered in my ear, and I bit my lip to keep my smile at bay.

“Same could be said for you,” I replied.

“Winding Road? We’re ready for you,” a woman called from the door, ducking back inside the hallway after her announcement.

I smiled at the two men and shimmied my shoulders. I couldn’t do a full-on “dance it out” session, but I could do something.

“Let’s do this thing,” I said, and stepped into the boardroom.