Page 54 of Writing Mr. Right

“You must be an excellent writer, then,” Finn compliments. His mood is considerably lighter than it was before. “You have a real way with words.”

I dip my chin. “I try.”

“I sincerely hope I’ll get to read something of yours.” Finn polishes off his drink, then peers into the empty glass. “Ahh, I should get a refill.” Before he goes, he reaches into his pocket and produces a matte white card. He holds it out to Kira. “Shoot my assistant an email. I’ll see what I can do about your lab.” He raises a finger. “But I do expect the naming opportunity to be part of the deal.”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Whitman,” Kira promises eagerly. Sheaccepts the card from his hand with a nod of her head. “Thank you so much.”

“We appreciate your generosity, sir,” Antonio adds.

“Cheers,” he says, and then he merges with the rest of the crowd on his way to the bar.

Kira’s jaw drops the second his back is turned. “Oh, myGod.” She gives me a once-over. “How did youdothat? Tony and I have been talking to Finn for the better part of anhourand were getting absolutely nowhere. You accomplished it in all of five minutes.”

“And you did it without sounding so…desperate,” Antonio adds.

“Oh. I just…talked.” I shrug. “Sometimes we get so caught in what we’re trying to say that we forget what weshouldbe saying.”

Kira and Antonio share a look. “I don’t think I understand what you mean, but you’re good,” Antonio says. He turns to Emily. “Your friend is vibrant.”

Emily gives me a once-over. “I’ve…honestly never seen her like this,” she replies.

He points to the crowd. “Can you come with us to squeeze some money out of these other billionaires?”

I laugh. “I’d love to, but I’m just here to support Emily.” I loop my arm through hers, and she startles at the action.

“I think I recognize you,” Kira says to her. “You’re on Mark Shepherd’s nursing team, right? I think we worked together on the baby who had PDA.”

“I am,” Emily confirms. “And we did. I thought I recognized you, too.”

“Well, I’m glad Ziya gave us the chance to reconnect,” Kira says, offering me a grateful nod.

“Yeah.” Emily regards me with a mix with admiration and confusion. “Me too.”

“But seriously,” Antonio cuts in, “can you help us? Becausewe need a few other things in the hospital, too, and this is one of the biggest fundraising events of the year.”

I tilt my head at Emily. “Em?”

She bites her lip, then tosses her hands in the air. “Ah, what the hell. I didn’t have anything better planned for the evening.”

25

Schmoozing is fun when you have no skin in the game.

Unlike Kira and Antonio (or even Emily), I don’t go through the night feeling a huge weight on my shoulders, knowing whatever I say or do will affect my livelihood. Of course, I know it’ll affect theirs, but when something doesn’t feel all or nothing, it can be entertaining.

And Iamentertaining. I’m charming. I’m funny. Over the course of the evening, I help Kira and Antonio gather funding for pro bono surgeries, new state-of-the-art equipment, and other hospital supplies. I even help Emily secure a donation to double the amount of NICU blankets, something that’s apparently very important to their department. A few of her coworkers come up and thank me profusely for my contribution to their cause.

I can’t quite believe it. I’m not trying to pat myself on the back; I’m just shocked at my own behavior. Not once do I feel the urge to melt into the wall. Not once do I second-guess my words. Not once do I overthink every little detail. My shoulders have never felt so light in my life.

Somehow, I don’t notice how late it gets. At some point,Emily taps my shoulder, then jerks her thumb in the direction of the door. “Should we head out?”

I frown, then pull out my phone. My eyes widen when I see it’s nearing 1 a.m. It was just past seven when we left the apartment. “Wow, we’ve been out for a long time.” I tuck my phone back into my purse. “Yeah, let’s go. It’s still gonna take time to get back home, too.”

We bid our new companions goodbye, but not without swapping numbers with Kira and Antonio and promising to meet them soon for dinner. We swing by coat check to pick up our jackets, then head back downstairs.

Emily orders the Uber while I collapse onto one of the couches in the lobby. I haven’t noticed until now how much my feet ache. I guess I was having too much fun to feel it. I tip my head back as sleep pulls at the backs of my eyes. “I’m exhausted. I didn’t even stay out this late formywork holiday party.”

Emily puts her phone away, then sticks her hands into her pockets. “You were really different tonight.”

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