Page 20 of Outspoken Hearts
I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "Perfect. Thanks, Diane."
She nods and retreats, closing the door behind her. I turn the envelope over in my hands, puzzled. I've done speaking engagements for Westcott in the past, but nothing that would warrant an urgent courier delivery.
Slicing it open, I pull out a heavy letterhead and begin reading.
By the time I finish, my heart is racing.
They're offering me a position. National Director of Public Engagement. Coordinating their corporate responsibility initiatives, representing them at high-profile events, developing leadership programs. Based in Boston. With a salary that makes my current income look like pocket change.
It's the kind of opportunity I've dreamed about—a platform to reach beyond Meadowbrook, to make a real difference on a national scale. The kind of role that perfectly leverages my experience and skills.
The kind of opportunity that would mean leaving everything behind. Including Eva.
I set the letter down, running a hand through my hair. This can't be happening. Not now. Not when I've finally found someone who sees the real me, who makes me feel like I don't have to be perfect all the time.
But the timing isn't coincidental. Last month, I gave a keynote at an industry conference in Boston. The head of Westcott was in attendance and approached me afterward. We had lunch, discussed leadership philosophies. He mentioned potential opportunities, but I assumed he meant occasional speaking engagements, not... this.
My phone buzzes with a text from Eva:
Eva
Still on for dinner at my place? Fair warning: I can't cook like you can, but I make a mean spaghetti.
I stare at her message, guilt already settling in my stomach. We've only just found each other. We're just beginning to explore what could be. How can I tell her about this opportunity without making her feel like she's not enough? Like Meadowbrook isn't enough?
Me
Absolutely. Looking forward to it. Need me to bring anything?
Her response comes quickly.
Eva
Just yourself. And maybe dessert if you're feeling generous. 7pm.
I tuck the letter into my briefcase, mind racing. I need time to think before mentioning this to Eva. It wouldn't be fair when we're still figuring us out.
But keeping it from her feels dishonest, and that's exactly what I promised to stop doing with her.
I ask Diane to clear my afternoon schedule and slip out the back door to avoid conversation.
Driving aimlessly through Meadowbrook, I pass landmarks of my life: the high school where I gave the valedictory speech, the community center, the park where I took my siblings during Mom's illness.
Every corner holds my history. I am James Adams of Meadowbrook—the responsible leader everyone relies on.
Yet isn't that what I've been trying to escape? The weight of others' expectations?
I end up at the covered bridge that inspired Eva's design. This is where everything began between us, our professional partnership becoming something more significant.
The irony isn't lost on me. Just as we've built our own bridge, I face a choice leading in the opposite direction.
Diane calls. The mayor wants to discuss expanding the branding initiative with a tourism strategy, inspired by my presentation with Eva.
Another responsibility. Another reason to stay.
Leaning against the bridge railing, I consider my options. Taking this job means starting over. No history weighing me down, no expectations.
But I'd leave behind everyone I care about. My family. My community.
