Page 67 of The Vow Thief
Sarah
The reply came faster than expected.
Wednesday works perfectly. Looking forward to it.
– Eli
I read it twice, then caught myself grinning.
Wednesday arrived crisp and clear, the kind of afternoon that felt designed for progress. I’d spent the morning reviewing grant summaries and finalizing a quarterly report, but my focus kept drifting to my calendar. 2:00 p.m. – Meeting with Eli, Second Sight Foundation.
I told myself it was just work. Another collaboration meeting. Another opportunity to build something meaningful. But a small, uninvited spark of curiosity lingered.
At 1:15, I went upstairs to change. I chose a tailored three-piece suit in slate gray, with strong lines and soft edges. The kind of outfit that made me feel centered and impossible to rattle. A cream silk blouse, hair pinned, diamond studs. My armor of grace.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I smiled.“You’ve got this,” I said quietly.
The drive to The Ravinia Club took just under twenty minutes. The valet greeted me by name, one of the quiet perks of being a regular. Inside, the lobby was all dark wood and quiet luxury, designed for discretion. The kind of place where the air itself whispered serious business.
The hostess led me to a private dining room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens still green from late summer. Eli was already there, standing near the table, scrolling through his phone.
He looked up as I entered, pocketing the device immediately.“Sarah Taylor,” he said, stepping forward. His voice was deep, composed, a touch smoother than I expected.“It’s great to finally meet you.”
“Likewise,” I said, offering my hand. His grip was steady, warm. I noticed the details: a Breitling watch, quiet confidence, and no ring.
He gestured to the seat across from him.“Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice.”
“I like efficiency,” I said.“It’s rare.”
He smiled at that, faint but genuine.“Then we already have something in common.”
The conversation started predictably enough with introductions and mission statements. But there was something different about the way he listened. Most donors wanted to talk about visibility, gala events, and photo ops. Eli wanted to talk about reach, accessibility, and my favorite, sustainability.
He asked smart questions. The kind that told me he’d done his homework.
“I was particularly impressed with your Concord Scholars mentorship program,” he said.“The retention numbers are remarkable.”
“Thank you,” I said.“They’re the result of long-term relationships. We’ve learned that funding gets projects started, but mentorship keeps them alive.”
He nodded thoughtfully.“That’s exactly what Second Sight wants to build through continuity, not applause.”
We spent nearly an hour diving into ideas. Art therapy in women’s shelters. Community-led curriculum design. Pairing Concord’s educational infrastructure with Second Sight’s creative grants.
When the waiter brought our coffee, Eli leaned back slightly, studying me.“You know,” he said,“most people talk about change like it’s abstract. You talk about it like it’s an obligation.”
I smiled.“It is. Change doesn’t wait for permission.”
He looked at me for a long moment, like he was memorizing.“You’re very good at what you do.”
“Years of practice.”
The conversation softened after that. We talked about leadership burnout, the illusion of balance, the need to disconnect. It was easy. Effortless in a way that professional meetings rarely are.
At 3:40, I finally noticed the time.“We’ve been talking for nearly two hours,” I said.“That’s a record for a first meeting.”
He smiled.“Good conversations have a way of ignoring clocks.”
As I gathered my notes, he stood.“Would you be open to continuing this discussion over dinner? Something less formal.”
