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“Yes, Mr. Taylor worked closely with her on planning for the gala. She was such a sweet woman.”

“We agree. And that’s what I’m hoping to be able to share with the public.”

Georgia held my stare briefly before she picked up the phone from its cradle and said, “Let me see if he’s available. Feel free to have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

Ty and I stepped away from the desk and moved to the sitting area. We exchanged odd looks before the both of us focused our attention on the space. I was merely noting how it was decorated, but I had the feeling Ty was doing some kind of special operations type of analysis. I’d noticed him doing it when we met with Carl at the Steel Ridge Rec, and I wondered if it was just second nature to him to scope out any place that he was with such a watchful eye.

“Mr. Taylor will be out in just a minute,” Georgia shared, rising slightly from her seat to look over the desk and in our direction.

“Perfect. Thank you so much.”

This was such a relief. Jackson Taylor was the owner of The Taylor Group, the parent company of many subsidiaries, both small and large. He was the host of the last gala Annie had played a major role in securing donors for several months ago. I was looking forward to his insight, believing he might have worked closely with Annie and would have had some interactions with her that went beyond the scope of their professional relationship.

The glass doors separating the front reception area with the back offices opened, pulling my attention in that direction. Ty and I stood, and Georgia offered meek introductions. “Mr. Taylor, this is Alana and Ty.”

He came a few steps in our direction, with us making our way toward him. After a brief exchange of handshakes, Mr. Taylor’s eyes moved to my foot. “What happened there?”

“Oh, I just had surgery a couple of weeks ago following a car accident.”

“Ouch. Is everything okay?”

I nodded. “So far the doctor’s happy with my recovery, and I can still get around, so I guess it’s going as well as can be expected.”

“That’s good. You can come on back,” he said as he swept his hand out to the side and indicated we could proceed through the door he’d just come through. As we stepped through, I heard, “Please hold my calls, Georgia.”

Jackson Taylor led us to his private office, and the moment we sat down, I expressed my gratitude. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor, for your willingness to meet with us like this. I realize I should have called for an appointment, but I appreciate you not holding that against us.”

I had wanted to avoid appointments at all costs. In that scenario, people often wanted to know specifics and had time to prepare speeches. I’d learned the best way to have authentic conversations and real responses to my questions was to just go right in and hope for the best.

He waved his hand dismissively in the air. “If it had been anyone else, I might have turned you down. But Georgia mentioned this was about Annie and the gala, and that woman bent over backwards for everyone in this community. The least I could do was find out what this is about. And please feel free to call me Jackson.”

Nodding, I explained, “Yes. I’m not sure if Georgia mentioned it, but I’m an independent journalist, and I’m merely looking to put together a piece about Annie’s life. As I’m sure you’re aware, she had a tremendous impact on the people in this town, and I’d like to showcase not only that work but the woman underneath.”

Jackson sent a look of admiration our way. “I’m happy to help in any way I can. What exactly did you want from me?”

“The gala you held four months ago was the last big fundraising event Annie was part of,” I began. “Obviously, it seemed Annie was never content to do just one thing and be done, continuing to do regular charitable works on a smaller scale in the months that followed. While I’m happy to hear some details about the specific work she did with you when it came to preparing for the event, what I’m most interested in hearing is what it was like to work with her. I’d like a little bit of insight as to who Annie is when she’s not doing good deeds for others.”

A smile spread across Jackson’s face as he countered, “Is there such a thing? I’ve worked with Annie several times over the last four or five years, and I’m not sure I’ve ever known her to not be doing something to help others. She really was the absolute best of us, and it’s just tragic what happened to her, because I don’t think there’s ever going to be anyone like her again.”

I sent a look of understanding his way. “That certainly seems to be the consensus amongst everyone we’ve spoken to. There’s such a strong sense of pride whenever anyone talks about her and the work that she did, and it mixes with this overwhelming sense of loss that we’ve suffered collectively.”

Nodding his agreement, Jackson replied, “That’s because people like her don’t exist.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. I mean, Annie was passionate about what she did, but she had people like you and some of the others we’ve spoken to recently who are just as generous.”

Jackson let out a laugh and sat back. “I can’t tell you how flattering it is that you could even presume to lump me in the same category as Annie.”

“You wouldn’t?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t start my businesses for the good deeds I could do. First and foremost, I’m a businessman, and my goal will always be about what’s good for increasing revenueacross the brand. I can’t speak on behalf of others she’s worked with; I’m sure there are plenty of people who aspire to be like her. I won’t pretend to be somebody I’m not, though. When it comes to the work I did with Annie, I did it because it would ultimately help my business.”

Jackson’s words took me by surprise. “Are you saying you didn’t care about the children’s hospital?”

Pressing his forearms into the desk as he leaned forward, he admitted, “Look, I’m not heartless. I’m glad there was a good cause to contribute to, and I hate to think that there’s even a need for it. But when it all boils down, the decisions I make are due to the direct impact it will have on my company. Working with Annie meant there’d be tax write-offs and great exposure. For her, the benefit to the children’s hospital was the number one priority. For me, it was secondary.”

It took a moment for those words to sink in, but they were precisely the kind of thing I’d expect in an impromptu meeting. “I appreciate your honesty, Jackson. Most people wouldn’t be willing to admit that.”

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