Page 34 of The Undercover Billionaire's Baby

Lana opened her mouth, closed it, and her hand fluttered up. She reached for her hair, trying to fidget, but it was tied up. She let her hand drop.

“I want to… expand, maybe?”

“Well, do you or don’t you?”

“I mean, I do. Before Mom died, she— We were talking about going online with our book club. Maybe getting into, have you heard of BookTok? We thought we’d do that, and maybe a podcast, where we invite authors and readers and talk about books. We thought?—”

“And how would you market your BookTok? Your podcast?”

Lana flapped. “I don’t know! We’d only just started. I don’t even know if I want to do that. You just, how you’re staring, you’ve got me all flustered.”

I dropped my Dad impression, seeing I’d upset her. “Sorry. I was going for the worst-case scenario. But the people behind this grant won’t go full jackass.”

Lana covered her face. “How do you know that?”

Because I know them. Went to college with their founder.

“Because I read up on them. They’re?—”

“Why didn’t I do that?” Lana gripped at her hair. A loose lock fell out and stuck off at an angle. I stood and went to her and lowered her hands to her sides.

“Because, hey. Hey, look at me. Open your eyes.”

Lana opened her eyes, and I saw they were glistening. I offered her my gentlest, most soothing smile.

“Because this is your first time. You’ve never done this before. This isn’t an instinctive thing like how to be nice. You learn from experience, and that’s what we’re doing. Getting you some experience so you’re prepared.”

Lana brushed her thumbs under her eyes. She blinked twice fast and managed a smile. “Guess I blew that, then. Freaked out straight away.”

“So I’ll tell you what you got right, then we’ll try again.” I counted off on my fingers. “First, I got your name wrong. You corrected me. It’s important to do that, to stand up for yourself. Second, you reminded me what’s already working. It is in your business plan, but a recap doesn’t hurt. If you see them getting bored with it, you can move on, but a quick touch on your history is a good place to start. Third, when I pushed you, you thought on your feet.”

“But that was all nonsense about us expanding. At least for now, all I want is to shore up what I’ve got. Update for the 2020s, then go from there.”

“Then you’ll want to expand on that, name specific updates. Things you can do to cement your position.” An impulse swept over me, a strong urge to hug her. She looked so hurt and fragile with her hair straggling loose. I wanted to take that hurt and sweep it away. But I wouldn’t be there when her interview came. I couldn’t protect her if it went south. She needed to take on this challenge herself, and my job was to make sure she was ready.

“Let’s try again,” I said. “I’ll dial down the jerk factor.”

Lana laughed shakily and we went again. We started off better, but Lana was stiff, reciting her plans for the shop like a robot. I started pulling faces to loosen her up.

“—and once sales pick up again… What are you doing?”

I hooked my thumbs in the corners of my mouth, pulled them apart, and waggled my tongue at her. Lana tried not to laugh, but I pushed my nose up pig-style. She dissolved into giggles.

“Okay, why? Just why?”

I unhooked my fingers and retracted my tongue. “Because I’m not hearing you in there. You need to show me your passion. Show me what this grant means to you, and to your shop.”

Lana groaned, still half-chuckling, and turned around. “Okay, one more time. But no stupid faces.” She went out and came in again, and I straightened up.

“Miss Stamey, just tell me, why do you want this? What made you decide to apply for this grant?”

She took a deep breath and stood a little taller. When she did, her suit went from tired to dignified. Her loose hair seemed deliberate, more statement than blunder. She radiated confidence like light from within.

“Some places are special,” she said. “My shop’s one of those. People have been coming in for thirty-five years now, not just for books, but for so much more. It’s a place to meet people. To drop your kids while you shop. A lot of moms do that for story hour. It’s a safe place, a haven. A great place to be. And I want to build on that. Make it even better.” Her face lit up, as though struck with inspiration. “I have so many ideas: a podcast. A book club. A café in the back. We have a space there. We could put in a counter. But in the end, it’s the community that’ll guide what I do. Haverford is my home. The people are my people. The shop is their shop. So what I want is to grow as the town grows. With this grant, I could renovate beyond just repairs. I could build my shop up to the size of my dreams.” She stopped abruptly. “Oh, was that cheesy? Was that too much?”

I coughed. I’d been so caught up her sudden switch was jarring, from blazing passion to wide-eyed doubt.

“Not cheesy,” I said. “That was inspired. If I was on that committee, you’d get that grant.”

---