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As Burton prattles politely, telling her a childhood anecdote, I notice my father approaching, a crystal tumbler in hand.
“Dad, just the man I was looking for,” I greet him, shaking his hand firmly. “Allow me to introduce my fiancé, Maddie Emerson.”
Walt's salt-and-pepper brows shoot upward. “A fiancé? Well, that’s a welcome development.” He grins, his gaze raking over Maddie. “You've been hiding this lovely girl, huh?”
Maddie's body tightens almost imperceptibly, and I jump in breezily, “We've kept it below the radar. But now that we’re getting married, it feels like it’s time for an official introduction.”
I smile down at Maddie, who manages to meet Walt's piercing stare. “But we're thrilled to come out in the open at long last, right, sweetheart?”
Her responding giggle sounds only slightly forced. To my relief, Burton slaps my father on the back, both breaking into a sly grin as Walt pulls a stunned Maddie into a gruff embrace.
His booming laugh echoes through the glittering space. Over his shoulder, I spot the gala organizer subtly waving me over.
I squeeze Maddie's hand, leaning in close. “That's my cue for my opening remarks. Will you be alright entertaining Dad and Joe until I return, my love?”
Before she responds, Burton presses a new champagne flute into her palm. “No need to worry! Your bride-to-be is in good hands. Walt and I will tell all your embarrassing childhood stories while you’re away.” Maddie takes a small sip of her drink and manages a weak smile.
I brush my lips across her knuckles, an intimate move not lost on Walt and Burton. “I'll be as quick as I can, darling. Save me a dance?”
“I promise.” She nods, and I catch Burton giving us a thumbs-up behind Walt's shoulder. With a deep breath, I slip through the crowd, my pulse accelerating to a staccato rhythm.
After getting a microphone clipped on my collar, I walk up to the stage, momentarily blinded by the spotlight washing the podium in a halo.
“I'd like to sincerely thank our host committee for their continued generosity in supporting innovation that keeps American soldiers safer, whether that be technologies like satellite imaging, encrypted communications equipment, advanced heads-up displays, or other cutting-edge breakthroughs. Here in New York, you uphold the armor defending freedom worldwide.”
Approving murmurs and a wave of applause allow me to take a cleansing breath that manages to slow my pulse.
“But we must also continue fighting for those brave men and women when they return back to us. Far too many bear wounds unseen. I count myself grateful to have walked off the plane physically unscathed. Not every vet can say the same.”
I pause, looking for Maddie’s eyes in the crowd. Her gaze is trained on me, listening intently. We haven’t spent too much time talking about my experiences overseas, not only because we were busy with more . . . pressing matters. She takes a sip of her drink, her eyes revealing awe.
“I lost brothers and have comrades now paralyzed and plagued by vivid nightmares. But Whitmore Tech has developed experimental virtual reality software specifically for retraining trauma-scarred neural pathways using targeted visual and sensory input. Early results show promise helping to undo some of war’s deepest ravages.”
I look over the crowd and notice a few entrepreneurs who could possibly be interested.
“Today, I take this stage to let you know that Whitmore Tech is eager to partner with like-minded infrastructure providers looking to expand into this opportunity, so this revolutionary PTSD treatment can aid veterans most desperately in need.”
As I thank the crowd and exit the stage to thunderous applause, I’m reenergized by the prospect of making the VR software available to a wide base.
I find Maddie chatting comfortably with my father and Burton near the silent auction displays. As if feeling my presence, she turns to me and eagerly extends her arm, which I accept greedily.
“A great speech, Jack.” My father beams. “It will save you hours of exploratory calls and meetings.”
“Ballsy, giving notice to prospective partners in this way,” Burton adds nodding his head approvingly.
Indeed. This was a carefully orchestrated move. The event chairs quickly recognized that Whitmore's expansion into veteran healthcare aligns perfectly with their goals. I suppose fortune favors the bold.
With the business part of the evening now done, all I want is to sweep Maddie away and enjoy myself.
And while we are here, I can touch her as if she is mine.
It’s to keep the pretense, I justify to myself.
“Gentlemen, if I may steal my girl back?”
My girl.
It rings true, and yet, it is fake. Maddie looks up at me in surprise, and I slip my arm around her tiny waist. My old man grins, satisfied that his ordinance is being taken up.
