Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I was surprised to feel a ball of emotion in my throat at Orion’s words. Once again, I found the idea of his childhood touched by such a profound loss heartbreaking.
Davenport nodded very slowly, hands folded over his belly. “This is good, young man. Honesty. This is how people connect. It’s how they understand one another and establish real trust. But I hope you’ll forgive me if I ask you a question…”
Orion still looked a little shaken by his own words, but he gave a small nod.
“I’ve never had children, but I am an old man. I’m trying to imagine what I would say if I heard my own son just say the things you said. And I wonder if I wouldn’t want to slap him across the face and ask him why he’s so worried about my damn ghost? I’d want to ask him why he isn’t more worried about taking care of himself, bank accounts be damned.”
Orion’s face reddened.
“I think what Mr. Davenport means,” I said, cutting in as I worried that Orion was about to blurt out something he’d regret in anger. “Is that your father would want what’s best for you in more ways than just financial. And maybe he would encourage you to take care of the other aspects of your life—not just work.”
Orion’s eyes slid to mine and I felt cold leak down to my stomach.
“With all due respect,” Orion said. “Neither of you knew my father. I hardly think you’re qualified to imagine what he would or wouldn’t want for his son. I would prefer if we stuck to the business at hand.”
Davenport spread his hands. “Of course. I appreciate you indulging an old man. You must understand these factories are the closest things I have to children. Just like your father probably wanted what was best for you, I want what’s best for those factories. Choosing a company to renovate and preserve them is a bit like choosing a surrogate parent to look after my children when I’m gone. Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” Orion said, voice touched by some unknown emotion.
“So what would you do with my children, Mr. Foster? Would you milk them for money like cash cows? Or would you honor them, even if it meant ignoring the bottom line here or there?”
I watched Orion struggle and saw the conflict in his eyes. The same man who'd just thoroughly dominated me in a supply closet now looked almost vulnerable.
"I..." He glanced at me, then back to Davenport. "I believe in doing things right—in excellence. When I look at your property, I see potential being wasted. I see corners being cut and opportunities being missed. Yes, I care about profit. But I care because profit means we can do more, build better, create something lasting. Profit is a tool that enables us to create something more.”
My breath caught. It was the most passionate I had heard Orion talk, and it was maybe my first real window into what drove him to work so hard here. Maybe it really wasn’t just about money or control for him. He really did care about something.
Mr. Davenport finally smiled. “Go on, young man.”
“This is where I want to hear your ideas,” Orion said, briefly cutting his eyes to mine and giving me the slightest nod. “You can tell us where to start, and we would work together from there to bring your vision to life.”
For the first time, Mr. Davenport wasn’t looking at Orion with open hostility and doubt. Instead, he leaned forward and began to talk excitedly about the future of his factories. To my surprise, Orion listened carefully as I tried to write down notes as fast as I could.
I realized my thoughts had been trailing for a few minutes as the men talked. I tuned back in while Orion was talking.
“...right,” he continued, running a hand through his hair. “Miss Hartwell has been... quite vocal about suggesting alternative approaches. We could let her sit with these ideas and see what she can propose."
I shifted in my chair, remembering just how vocal I'd been minutes ago. Focus, Ember.
"Has she now?" Davenport's eyes sparkled with amusement. "And what do you think of her suggestions?"
Orion met my gaze, and the heat in his eyes made me grip the arms of my chair. "I think... she sees things I sometimes miss. Different perspectives can be... valuable."
Was he still talking about business? My cheeks burned.
"That's exactly what I wanted to hear." Davenport stood, straightening his jacket. "I don't need another slick presentation. I need to know the people handling my legacy understand what that really means. Show me a plan that balances both our visions—profit and preservation. Then we'll talk details."
Once Davenport was gone, I stared at Orion, heart pounding. "Did that just happen?"
"Which part?" His voice was rough. "Davenport essentially telling us to work together, or..." His eyes dropped to my mouth.