Page 114 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“And finally,” the speaker said. “I’d like to introduce a very special member of the AIM board of directors. As you know, Charles and Violet Alsop began with the dream of an environmentally sound energy strategy fifty years ago when it became obvious to some people that fossil fuels were finite and likely to destroy the planet.”
I turned to stare at Epic, who did not meet my gaze. I nudged him. He didn’t respond.
“Epic. Look at me.”
He relented. “What?”
“Did you have anything to do with this?” I hissed.
“With what?” He finally turned to look at me.
“The award. Did you have anything to do with me getting this award?”
His eyes widened. “How could I? We just met last month.”
He was right. Of course he was right. But why didn’t he say anything when I’d told him what the banquet was and named the company hosting it?
“But—”
“Shh.” He nudged me.
“Without further ado, I’d like to bring Violet Alsop to the stage. Vi?”
The woman who passed through the ivy trellis walked regally. Tall and pale with dark hair, she had—I noticed when she got to the microphone—phenomenally blue eyes, just like Epic’s.
“Good evening, wonderful friends and colleagues.” Talk about alternative energy sources, Violet Alsop’s smile could have powered the entire city. “Before we leave tonight, we have a very different kind of award to present. Unlike our ‘Greenies,’ which recognize the technological advances in sound energy and environmental work, this one goes to StolenLives, an NGO dedicated to eradicating human trafficking. More specifically, the award goes to Ryan Winslow, who successfully discovered and documented a sex trafficking ring in our own community.”
I glanced Epic’s way to find his face had gone soft with adoration for his grandmother. This was the woman he idolized. The woman who had his back when his parents’ disapproval brought him down. I loved her already.
“Mr. Winslow’s hard work and subsequent coordination with law enforcement saved young North Dakotans' lives. Through his efforts, many more will avoid the despair and degradation they experienced.
“As you know, AIM Environmental Energy’s mission is to create a better world for humans through the manufacture of green technologies and alternate fuel sources. StolenLives is dedicated to preserving the dignity of humanity by ending traffic in human suffering.
“We are proud to support Mr. Winslow’s—and StolenLife’s—efforts with this special award, along with a corporate donation toward the work at StolenLives. Mr. Winslow?”
With Epic’s aid, I barely kept from stumbling over my feet as I rose. I buttoned my jacket and smoothed my tie on my walk to the podium. It tookforeverto get there, with every eye on me like that. Somehow, I got through the trellis and walked to the podium to stand next to Epic's grandmother without falling. I wondered why it took both hands to present me with a relatively small sculptural glass figure of a flame, but when she handed over the absurdly heavy thing, all became clear. My name and the year had been engraved on the base.
“It is my pleasure to present the first ever AIM Humanitarian award. For myself, my community, my state, and all the people we serve, I would like to say thank you, Ryan Winslow, for the hard work you do to uncover these crimes and bring justice to the victims.”
I had prepared a few words. That was before I’d realized the woman warmly holding my hand was Epic’s much-loved grandma. His mother had cast me in the villain’s role. How did his grandmother see me?
“Mrs. Alsop." I nodded to her before turning to the tables in the darkness beyond the bright lights of the stage. "Friends. Thank you so much for the wonderful introduction. You make what I do sound pretty heroic. The truth is, I sit in a room with a computer looking for little connections. My job isn’t any different than what any other data analyst does day in and day out, except I focus on certain pieces of information that come up time and time again in human trafficking cases.
“Like a dog trained to track a certain type of scent—a tool, if you will—I do one thing pretty well.”
I could guess who snickered at the word “tool.”Down in front.
“There are so many others who share this with me—legislators, law enforcement, other NGOs. Too many to name. We all want the same thing: to end the suffering of human beings who have fallen victim to the greed of others.
"That said, I’m delighted to receive recognition for the work we do at StolenLives and even more thrilled that our work resulted in arrests and convictions. I can’t stop—I won’t stop—until there’s no longer a need for what I do. Thank you.”
People in the vast black space beyond the stage lights applauded. I was able to make out our table, and Epic, who stood and whistled.
I felt strangely dizzy, even though I hadn’t had much to drink. I wasn’t sure whether I’d make it down the stairs without taking a header, but Epic met me at the bottom where he caught my hand and led me to the side until his grandmother closed out her speech and came down to greet us.
“C’mon, Grandma. Let’s go find somewhere you can meet Ryan properly.” He led us out of the banquet hall. We found an empty seating area in a quiet corner and took it over. Mrs. Alsop and I sat side by side on a couch with Epic opposite, sitting on a cocktail table.
“So, I’m guessing tonight was a bit of a surprise.” Violet Alsop’s eyes twinkled. “Epic told me all about you, but he didn’t want you to know about the family connection until the ceremony. I’m sorry if it was a shock.”
