He tapped his finger against his lips, his smile growing.
After the head of the school board welcomed everyone and reviewed a few housekeeping items for their continuing education day, he introduced Charlotte and ushered her forward.
She walked to the lectern, shoulders a little bent, her lips pinched in a frown.
Arran folded his hands on his lap, squeezing his fingers together.
Smile, Charlotte. You’ve got this.
She took to the lectern and stared out into the crowd, her face much paler than her usual complexion.
“Good morning.”
Her volume barely dented the vast space. Those eyes shot a frantic search through the crowd and finally found him, her gaze locking to his.
He pushed up a reassuring smile and gestured for her to move closer to the microphone.
With a slight nod and the tiniest smile, she complied.
“Thank you for the opportunity to speak to you today.” She halted and swallowed, but her volume came with more authority. “Have any of you ever wanted to make someone’s wish come true? Especially a child’s? My name is Charlie Edgewood, and this year I am the coordinator for The Mistletoe Wish.” She cleared her throat a little too close to the microphone, and her eyes widened in horror, her gaze finding his again.
He gently shook his head, hopefully communicating it was no big deal.
“I appreciate the opportunity today to help you learn how...”
She paused, her smile dying on her face as her attention roved the crowd. The pause grew longer.
Oh no! She was freezing up.
He released a cough, gaining her attention, and with a subtle move of his hand, he raised two fingers.
Point two. The story.
Her gaze dropped to his fingers, and then the most beautiful smile dawned on her face. She rested her palms on the lectern, whichadjusted her posture to a more confident stance, and drew in a deep breath. “I know the value of The Mistletoe Wish because I was one of those children who desperately needed a wish to come true.”
And on she went, glancing at him occasionally. With each shared smile, her body relaxed even more, her presentation stronger. She ended by inviting teachers, social workers, and administrators to contact her if they knew of any families within their schools who could benefit from The Mistletoe Wish, and even introduced Arran as her assistant.
A moniker he’d never held before, but undoubtedly one of his proudest.
Applause followed her as she exited the stage. He met her at the side door of the school, her pace almost at a run.
As soon as they made it outside, she turned to him. “Did I ruin it?”
“What?” He caught her in a stumble, placing a hand on her arm. “Of course not. You were great.”
“I froze.” Her brow puckered with her frown. “I looked out into the dark crowd and my mind went blank. If you hadn’t—”
“But you brought it back together and ended splendidly.” He gave her arm a little squeeze. “So next time, at the Ashby, you’ll feel more comfortable.”
“And I’ll just envision you in the front row holding up two fingers.” Her frown gave way to a smile. “Actually, that might help a lot. It’s a good distraction.”
He leaned in and gave his brows a shake. “I’m a distraction, am I?”
She narrowed her eyes, fully recovered from her discomfort. “Not enough to distract me from finding food right now. I’m starving.”
“Sometimes we rescue the princess from dragons, and othertimes from hunger.” He offered his arm. “Let’s find you some food so that I won’t have to compete with your stomach.”
When she slid her arm through his, Arran realized two things:
