by Amberlee Day
“Hello,” he managed to say. He felt thirteen, nearly tripping over his own tongue.
“Hi.” Her expression changed and he saw a tenderness there, and a blush that shone through her tan. Whoops. So much for hiding his thoughts.
“You look beautiful.”
“You’re not too shabby yourself.”
He pulled his eyes away from her—more to keep from staring so hard than anything—and nodded at the poster. “I think we’re in for a good night. The keynote looks a lot like my hiking partner.”
Kenzie bit her full, pink lip. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I didn’t want to … well, I’m not sure what it was I didn’t want to do.”
“Brag?”
Her nose wrinkled adorably. “Intimidate.”
Peter laughed. “That hasn’t happened yet. Should I be? Intimidated?”
“No. It’s just, I don’t really date much, but when I have I’ve been told that they aren’t dating me, but the whole campaign to fight against cancer.”
“I see.” Peter nodded. “Well, if I were to date a campaign, that sounds like a worthy one.”
“It is …”
“But if I get to choose, I’d say I’m honored to be dating the woman who chooses that campaign for her work. That’s definitely a cause I can support.”
Kenzie’s face lit up more, if it was even possible. She looped her arm through Peter’s, the touch of her skin and that fragrance scrambling his senses. “I knew I liked you.”
“You did, huh? Good to know.” Really good to know.
Inside the event was truly something Peter hadn’t experienced before. This was no PTA fundraiser that his mother organized when her kids were in school, but a fundraiser designed to spoil the wealthy and encourage them to donate. He suspected they paid dearly per plate just to be there.
After being introduced to a dozen people whose names he’d never remember, Peter said privately to Kenzie, “Does Seattle really have this many wealthy people, or did you have to import some?”
“No, these are all ours. Kind of scary to think there are so many wandering among us.”
“Indeed.” But really, Peter marveled at how comfortably Kenzie spoke to everyone she came in contact with, from the waitstaff to a man Peter actually recognized as the owner of at least a couple of local pro sports teams. “My dad’s going to freak when I tell him who we met tonight,” he whispered to Kenzie.
“Yeah? What about if we make sure you meet him, too?” She pointed with her eyes to a broad-shouldered man standing across the room.
“Wha—” Peter blinked. “Is that …?”
“Yes, it is. Seattle’s number one tight end. He lost his mother to breast cancer, so he’s been coming the last few years.”
“I’m not sure what to be more impressed at: that you’re rubbing elbows with celebrities, or that you know football.”
Kenzie raised a perfect eyebrow at him, and in a deeply serious voice said, “Oh, I know football.”
Peter’s temperature raised a notch. He’d never been more attracted to a woman than he was to Kenzie; that was for sure.
They were seated near the podium, at the same table as the elderly lady who’d dropped her shawl earlier and some other people Kenzie seemed to know.
“Hello again,” the silver-haired woman said. “Kenzie, is this lovely man with you?”
“Yes. Judith Boucher, this is Peter Olson. Or have you two already met?”
“Peter helped me earlier. So nice to meet you, Peter. I see you have excellent taste in companions, as well as good manners.”
“I don’t know about that—” He winked. “—but I fully agree with you about the lady.”
Kenzie was already talking with Mr. Boucher, and apparently missed that part. She soon interrupted his conversation with Mrs. Boucher to introduce Peter to another woman named Marianne, and her husband, Bryan. “Marianne is my boss,” Kenzie said.
Marianne took Peter’s hand and stared at him with a disbelieving expression. “He’s real,” she said. Peter wasn’t sure what she meant, but he chuckled.
“Last I checked,” he said, and holding out his arm added, “but feel free to pinch me if you want to make sure.”
Bryan and Marianne laughed. Kenzie did too, but she gave her boss a slight glare. “Marianne just doesn’t believe I can get a real date anymore.”
“I didn’t,” Marianne said. “She always comes to these things alone.”
Kenzie shot her another look that made Peter laugh again.
“Well, I’m glad you came,” Bryan said, extending his hand to Peter. “If it wasn’t you, Marianne was going to set the poor girl up with one of my interns at the hospital, and I really didn’t want to spend the evening talking about how rounds went today.”
Peter realized midway through dinner that this was definitely not a crowd he’d normally mix with, but considering they glittered with all that money could buy, it was a pretty chill group.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Kenzie asked when they’d finished eating. She looked worried he wasn’t.
“I am. They’re nice people. But then I just like being here with you, so that probably helps.”
Kenzie blushed again, and the smile she gave him made him want to wrap her in his arms. The live band had been playing mostly quiet background music, but Peter suddenly wondered, “Is there going to be dancing later?”
“Yes, there is.” Her eyes went a deeper blue in the evening lights.
“Do I have to call dibs on the first dance, or does being your date give me some kind of preference?”
“Oh, you get all the preference,” she replied, making his heart pound at the assurance of holding this woman in his arms tonight.
“Good,” was all he managed to say, but thought she understood his undertones.
When dishes had been cleared, Marianne left them to speak at the podium. As she talked to the crowd about the high stakes they were fighting for with fundraisers like this, Mrs. Boucher leaned over to whisper to Peter. “You know, your girl there is the reason all these people came tonight.”
Peter breathed deeply, happy for Kenzie, but still confused at why she’d be the keynote speaker. “Is that right?”
“Yes. You know, these seats went tonight for ten thousand a plate?”
It took Peter a moment to understand that she didn’t mean there were ten thousand attending the dinner—which wasn’t possible; there couldn’t have been more than a hundred. When he finally understood, he had to resist the urge to whistle. “Everyone here?” he asked.
“Yes. Pretty inspiring, isn’t it?”
“And …” He didn’t want to sound surprised, but asked, “The highlight is hearing Kenzie speak?”
“Yes, it is. She’s been the keynote three of the last six years. Everyone looks forward to it.”
Peter didn’t know what to say, so he merely nodded with wide-open eyes and turned back to Kenzie. She’d taken a single note card out of her purse, and it didn’t look like much was written on it. Her attention was on Marianne at the podium.
“Are you next?” he whispered.
She smiled nervously at him and nodded.
He squeezed her hand. “Good luck. You’ll do great.”
“It’s always scary,” she whispered back. “I don’t know when I’ll get used to it, Peter. I’m glad you’re here.”
Peter caught his breath—she always seemed to take it away. Whether she was the guest of honor or not, Peter felt like the luckiest man in the room that he got to be here with Kenzie. “I am, too,” he said.
Just then, Marianne announced over the microphone, “We’re now privileged to hear from the founder of the Naomi Vega Walk for a Cure Foundation, Kenzie Vega.”
The crowd burst into applause, and a pinprick of recognition went off in Peter’s head. “Naomi Vega?” he asked Kenzie over the applause. She nodded, a humble smile gracing her lips, before she let go of his hand. When Kenzie walked to take her place at the podium, she was the pictur
e of grace and composure.
How is Kenzie the founder of the Naomi Vega Foundation? Everyone knows that’s the biggest name in cancer research, all over the country.
Oh. Vega.
Kenzie’s role was much bigger than he thought, and his heart swelled with awe.
At first, Kenzie’s message didn’t sink in. Peter was too distracted watching the way the light touched her hair, and how her mouth moved easily into a beautiful, reassuring smile even as she said words like cancer, battle, survival. No wonder these people felt confident their money would go to a good cause. Watching Kenzie, Peter believed, too.
She shared others’ stories first—women named Shawna and Jackie—before delving into her own. Peter sat on the edge of his seat, waiting to learn more about Kenzie and find out how she was related to the foundation’s namesake, Naomi Vega.
“Many of you know my story,” she said. “It’s no different than Shawna’s or Jackie’s. If you know it, it’s because of the way it came about, not because it’s special.
“My mother, Naomi, loved the outdoors, and exercise, and learning new things every day. She loved people, even on those days when it seems like there aren’t any good ones left in the world. You know those days?”
Peter suddenly remembered Kenzie’s sparse notes, and realized that she wasn’t giving a speech—she was conversing with the crowd, as if she would talk to them one at a time. Kenzie truly had spectacular speaking skills.
“One of Mom’s hardest days came when I was just ten,” she continued, “and she found out she had breast cancer. I know it was hard, because she told me. She was always honest. But I wasn’t scared. Because when Mom told me the truth, she told me that this was our chance to practice everything she’d taught me about being strong, and loving, and enjoying every single day. It was also our chance to fight the dragon, and while that was scary, no hero ever won the battle without being a little scared.
“Mom won that battle with the dragon. We all did, and yes, our family was stronger because of it. We lived every day to its absolute, glorious, magically fullest amount possible. Every day was an adventure, one where we started each morning with goals for how we’d make the most of it, and how we’d leave it a better place at the end of the day. No blessing or beautiful moment went without notice. No sunset escaped us. Not a day went by where we didn’t eat the chocolate.”
Low chuckling traveled through the room, and Peter noticed more than one beautiful, rich face in the crowd had tears.
“When my mother was forty-four, the dragon returned. It was a smarter, wiser dragon. Smarter than we were, anyway. It attacked without warning, from all sides. It had metastasized. While her doctors watched where it had hit before, it snuck in where least expected.
“We had already signed up to walk Seattle’s three-day when we found out. She only had months left. Many of you know this story.” Her glance took in Peter before scanning the crowd, pulling them all in. She fingered the necklace she always wore. “Mom decided that what she wanted more than anything was to have me continue our plan and walk. ‘What good will it do if neither of us go?’ she said. ‘If you walk for both of us, I’ll be right there with you in spirit. I’ll wear my pink tutu and tiara. I’ll sing, and it’ll be like we’re right there together. Will you do that for me? Please.’ So I did.”
Kenzie wasn’t crying, but many others were. Peter folded his arms, one hand moving to cover his mouth.
“I walked with our team, Bosom Buddies. We’d raised thirty thousand as a team that year, and determined to help each other finish, and have fun doing it. I called Mom, took videos and pictures. It wasn’t exactly like she promised. It would have been better if she’d been there, but it was good. Everyone on our team knew Mom wasn’t well, and they loved her too.” Here Kenzie finally did catch her breath, and Peter thought her emotions might win, but they didn’t. “So we kept each other going.
“Then, one point six miles from our second-day goal, my dad called. Mom had passed. We hadn’t expected it so soon. She’d been talking to him about fifteen minutes before, and then she was gone, slipped away.
“If you’ve lost a loved one to the dragon, you know. When it happens, it’s like a light goes out. The real sunshine is gone, and you have to go on with something else, something artificial. I wanted to quit. I told Dad I was coming home, but he said one of the last things Mom said was that she wanted me to finish. It was important that I finish my walk, for her, and for me. So I did.”
The crowd of superbly dressed attendees, sitting in their overpriced seats, rose up and gave Kenzie a standing ovation. Peter was the first out of his seat. Her smile while she waited for the applause to stop had a serene quality, and he marveled at her composure.
“The remainder of my walk,” she continued when they quieted, “I was accompanied by angels. Once word got around, I had the support of tens, hundreds, thousands of sisters and brothers who knew the dragon, who fought the good fight and were there to walk the walk. The media heard about the story—I still don’t know how. More people came. They held signs. They—” Here, Kenzie’s voice broke. “They knew my mom’s name. They encouraged, supported, and lifted me to the finish line. They cried with me, and held my hand, and moved forward with me.
“By the time my walk was over, a new journey had begun. The Naomi Vega Walk for a Cure Foundation. And again, I wasn’t alone. Support from so many has helped move this work forward, much of it from the people I see here in this room tonight. It’s going to happen. I know it is, and we’re getting closer. We’re going to slay that dragon once and for all, and when we do, it will be because we did it together. Jackie and Shawna, and me, and you. We are making it happen. Thank you.”
The crowd erupted in applause, and Peter’s hands hurt from clapping so hard. Man, this woman was amazing. How had he been so lucky to stumble into her world? An image came to his mind of Kenzie that day at hiking club, kneeling to tend to his sore feet, and he flushed with humility.
This beautiful, strong woman. I knew she was kind, but I had no idea. As she returned to her seat next to his, she smiled at him, an oddly tentative thing. What had she said earlier? She worried he’d be intimidated. Maybe he would have been, but while Kenzie’s moving speech was for the foundation, her smile told him that a place in her heart was reserved just for him.
Kenzie was relieved when the band started up again shortly after her speech, signaling it was time to dance. She turned to Peter, the brightest spot in a successful evening. Every time she looked at him, a spark flamed hotter inside her. “Still want that dance?”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. When Peter escorted her to the dance floor, the first couple to take advantage of the opportunity, she felt like the luckiest woman in the room. His arms went around her, and she forgot they weren’t the only ones there. With his hand on her waist, his chest connecting lightly with hers, and his thigh brushing against hers to the music’s rhythm, Kenzie felt that electricity zing between them.
“Alright,” Peter said, his voice delightfully close to her ear, “tell me more about how you ended up founding the biggest cancer fundraising organization in the county.”
Kenzie had worried that all this would intimidate Peter, but his happy, easygoing expression calmed those fears. “It wasn’t me to begin with,” Kenzie said. “There was already a foundation running the walks … which is why my mom and I were doing them for a few years before she passed. They just needed a name, a story that would resonate.”
“Like to give their foundation a personal touch?”
“Exactly. Everyone at that walk seemed to know what I was going through, and I wasn’t exaggerating—I literally had a thousand supporters encouraging me on.” Tears stung her eyes again, but she didn’t want those emotions this evening. She shook her head to keep them at bay. “It was incredible. Anyway, when the foundation approached me a month later, it felt like something Mom would do.”
She shrugged. Peter’s eyes searched hers, though she wasn’t
sure what for.
“And you’ve made this your whole life,” he said.
She exhaled, and smiled at him. “Pretty much. Keep busy, do good. And get people out moving at the same time, which is healthy. Mom would have loved it.”
Peter nodded but didn’t say any more. Kenzie was glad. Though the evening had been about fundraising, she was ready to just focus on Peter. She changed the subject. “You, sir, are an excellent dancer.”
“I have an excellent partner.” His return smile at such a close distance melted her insides.
“I suppose your sister taught you to dance?” she asked.
“No, my mother. But Paige made me practice.”
“I see.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder briefly, before asking, “How is Paige? Feeling any better?”
“She’ll get there. Kenzie, thank you so much for visiting her yesterday. That meant a lot to her, and me.”
“Oh, any time. That was easy. I get the feeling that what’s going to be less easy is helping her not be discouraged.”
Peter’s thumb rubbed Kenzie’s, and that fluttering heat she felt around Peter stirred stronger. “Did she tell you Josh might not be here for the birth?” he asked.
“She did. I can’t imagine that.”
“I hope it’s not what happens. It doesn’t help that she’s too sick to go into work or even do hiking club, so she’s kind of stuck at home.”
An idea popped like a switch in Kenzie’s brain.
“I can tell by your smile you’ve come up with a solution,” Peter said.
“Can you see the light bulb?” she teased.
“Yes, it’s right here.” His fingertip brushed her forehead, and she lingered on that sweetness before continuing.
“I don’t think I’ve told you, but I have an online channel.”
Peter drew back a fraction, surprised. “You what?”
She laughed. “I really do. It’s called Forest Bathing with Kenzie, and I think it might be something Paige would enjoy.”
This time Peter’s eyebrows rose dramatically. “Forest bathing? That sounds very free-spirited. And … cold.”