Page 49 of Key West Promises

Jack chuckled. "Maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere else? The coffee shop down the street has great Cuban pastries. Unless you're too busy with fundraiser prep?"

"She's not," Chelsea called from across the room. "We've got it covered."

"I can spare thirty minutes," Leah said, trying to sound professional despite the warmth in her cheeks. "The donor lists can wait."

"Leah Lawrence, putting off paperwork? I'm shocked,” he said.

"Don't get used to it." She grabbed her purse, then hesitated. "Though…maybe we could make this a regular thing? Coffee and books?"

"Careful," he teased, holding the door for her. "First it's coffee and books, then before you know it, we're discussing first editions and rare manuscripts. Could be dangerous."

"I think I'm ready for a little danger," Leah replied, surprising herself with her boldness.

His smile softened into something that made her heart skip. "You know what? I think I am too."

CHAPTER 20

In Elena's office, Gretchen found herself oddly soothed by the simple task of entering donation records into spreadsheets. The focus on numbers helped calm her constant urge to rush out and "help" with everything else.

Through the window, she could see Will filming Kaitlyn as she directed the setup of auction displays. Her daughter moved with a confidence Gretchen had never noticed before, pausing occasionally to adjust a display or consult with volunteers. The camera followed her naturally, as if Will instinctively knew where she would move next.

"They work well together," Elena observed, glancing up from her desk.

"They do," Gretchen admitted, then couldn't help adding, "But a documentary filmmaker? Really?"

"As opposed to what?"

"I just always thought…I mean, with her business degree…"

"You know what I see?" Elena set down her pen. "I see someone who understands how to tell stories that matter. Both of them do, in their own ways. Will with his camera, Kaitlyn with her way of connecting people to causes." She smiled. "That's a rare gift."

The sound of laughter filtered in from the kitchen—Tess and Chelsea’s voices mixed with Jamie's deeper tones. Something crashed, followed by good-natured bickering about whose fault it was.

"Oh my," Gretchen muttered, half-rising. "I should?—"

"Stay right here," Elena finished firmly. "They've got it handled."

"But—"

"You know what the hardest thing is about running this place?" Elena asked, gesturing to the shelter around them. "Learning when to step in and when to step back. These women come to us needing everything, and it's tempting to try to fix it all for them. But that's not what they really need."

"What do they need?"

"Space to fix things themselves. Support without suffocation. Someone who believes in them enough to let them stumble sometimes."

“I guess there is something to the saying ‘Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime.’”

“Something like that. In this case, it’s a woman, but I think it applies to everyone,” Elena responded.

The parallel wasn't lost on Gretchen. She sank back into her chair, watching as Kaitlyn effortlessly resolved a conflict between two volunteers over table placement.

"When did she grow up?" Gretchen whispered. "How did I miss it?"

"You didn't miss it," Elena said kindly. "You just had a different version of it playing in your head. Maybe it's time to see the real story instead of the one you thought you were supposed to tell."

A small commotion from the hall interrupted them—the caterers had arrived with sample hors d'oeuvres for approval. Gretchen's fingers itched to take charge, to rush out and organize everything, but she forced herself to stay seated.

Through the doorway, she watched Chelsea and Tess work together. Jamie appeared with additional platters, his easy competence in the kitchen matching Tess's.

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