Preserving Will Page 13

  The woman who’d spoken to him earlier led him to a booth in the corner, pointing to a door a few feet away. “The men’s restroom is right there, sir, if you’d like to try to dry off a bit.”

  Will nodded, leaving his architectural drawing tube on his assigned table. Maynard would have been horrified, certain that someone would steal the plans. Will doubted it, and didn’t like the man’s bias against those from smaller towns. Will had so disliked something about the plans that he almost wished someone would steal them. And it wasn’t as if the architect couldn’t print new copies of the plans at any time.

  Will dried himself using paper towels and the heated air dryers as best he could, and emerged a few moments later. The tube of diagrams was still on the table, right where he’d left it.

  Of all the times to be proven right in his judgment of people…

  Sighing, Will realized he’d have to look at the plans. Again. And realize he didn’t like them at all. Again. And realize he couldn’t explain why. Again.

  He popped the cover off the tube and slid the plans out on to the table. The documents weren’t large; they were general-purpose sketches showing the concept the architect had devised based upon her interpretation of Will’s specifications. Will scowled at the documents and at his inability to articulate what was wrong with them. His mood wasn’t helped by the fact that he was hungry, and that the smell of the greasy, tempting food filled his nostrils.

  “You look preoccupied. Would you like me to come back later?”

  Will glanced up… into the most startlingly bright pair of blue eyes he’d ever encountered. He was momentarily speechless, lost in eyes that seemed to go on for eternity.

  He shook himself internally, trying to regain his focus. “No, no, definitely not. I’ll need all the nourishment I can get to help me fix what ails this.” He gestured at the plans in front of him. “I haven’t looked at the menu, but if you serve a giant, messy cheeseburger with lots of toppings, fries, and a chocolate milkshake, I’ll have that.”

  She smiled and patted his arm. “You try to beat some sense into those papers and I’ll be back with reinforcements.”

  She walked off, leaving Will reeling. Her touch had been like an electric spark against his skin—but it was pleasant rather than painful. Her hair was cut just below her shoulder, tied back in a ponytail to adhere to food service guidelines, and was such a bright blond color that it appeared to be a heavenly white.

  Will blinked at the thought. Heavenly?

  He shook himself, physically this time, and focused on the diagrams. But her eyes kept looking back at him from the papers. Sighing, he lowered his elbows to the table and rested his head on his hands. He’d never get this done if he spent so much mental energy thinking about a woman he’d never before seen in his life. And she was young, too; her face suggested she was several years younger than Will. She was off limits, to be sure. She was far too beautiful to be interested in someone like him at any rate.

  Focus, Will! The words were bellowed inside his head, but they had no effect.

  “Who won the battle?”

  She was back, balancing a tray with a perfectly made chocolate milkshake and a cool glass of water. “Not me. I can’t win the battle, let alone the war, if I can’t identify the enemy’s weakness.”

  She laughed. “You have a spot in mind for this tasty drink?”

  Will nodded, sliding the plans closer to the window and gesturing at the vacated section of the table. She sat the milkshake and glass of water down in the cleared space—and then, to his shock, sat down next to him. “What are we looking at?”

  He turned and looked at her. Her skin was clear and smooth, like porcelain, and her brow was furrowed in a manner suggesting a deep level of focus and concentration. He wanted to impress her for some reason, and mustered up a witty response. “Uh… house plans.”

  Ouch.

  She frowned, turning to look at him, her blue eyes making contact with his own without any sense of discomfort. “That’s not a house. That’s a military fortress, a home for someone who considers himself a general or a king.” She arched an eyebrow. “Do you see yourself as a king or a general?”

  He stared at her. “That’s… that’s exactly the problem I’ve been trying to articulate.” He shook his head. “These plans… they make it look like I’m about to launch an attack on the city. That’s not what I want. I just want to feel safe. To feel like it’s a place where a family could live without fear.”

  She nodded, chewing her bottom lip, an act that he found mesmerizing. “If you want it to be a place where a family could live, you might try getting more houses inside those… what are they, fences or something? If you keep everyone out, you’ll do nothing but feel isolated and lonely.”

  He nodded, thoughtful. “That’s a great point. The walls are there to keep those who’d try to hurt me or my family away. Not everyone will try to do that, though, and I don’t want to keep away those who might like living there.” He tapped the page. “This house as drawn is ridiculously large, as if I’m some kind of monarch trying to impress people. I’d rather have something simpler, smaller, something that gives more people room to join me inside.”

  She was watching him with deep interest as he spoke, and her look was suggestive of one who’d known him for years… a thought which both unnerved and excited him. “You said that with great sincerity, and I think you’ve found the problem. Those plans represent someone else’s view of what you are, and what you want. But they’ve clearly misunderstood. I think if you’re able to articulate what you just said to me, your architect will be able to draw up something that truly reflects who you are, and you’ll be able to live somewhere that’s a home, rather than a prison.” She put her hand on his arm once more, and he felt those same sparks energizing him. “Do you think you can do that?”

  “Come with me,” Will blurted out. Then he cringed. Smooth, Will. Real smooth.

  She sat up straight, bright blue eyes wide, subtly backing away from him. “I… what do you mean?”

  He straightened as well. “Sorry, that was very… spontaneous of me. You don’t know me at all, other than through the little speech you encouraged me to give just now. I think I might struggle to articulate that vision, those concepts, when I visit my architect. Unless you’re there to help me. But…” He paused, smiling weakly. “It was quite presumptuous of me to ask you to do something like that. I’m sorry.”

  She nodded, seeming to relax. “I don’t think you mean me any harm.”

  I will kill anyone who tries to harm you, he thought. His eyes widened. Where had that come from?

  She paused a moment. “It’s just that…”

  Will frowned, sensing that something awful was coming, and he was instantly on alert, ready to track down whoever might have threatened or actually harmed this young woman he’d just met. Even if it meant he himself was hurt in the process. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s just that…” She paused, and then smiled. “You haven’t even told me your name.”

  He laughed, relief flooding over him. “I haven’t, have I?” He held out his hand. “I’m Will Stark.”

  To his great relief, she didn’t react to his name at all. She accepted his hand and shook it, and he once more felt that electricity that so captivated him. “I’m Hope. Hope Young.”

  “Such a wonderful name,” he said. “I hope you might consider having dinner with me tomorrow.” He cringed again. It sounded so much better in his head. Why could he control conversations with the rich and powerful, know just the right thing to say and when to say it… yet he couldn’t avoid saying the stupidest things to this woman?

  Because you don’t care what they think of you.

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s a pretty awful joke.” She paused, and then smiled again. “But yes, I will have dinner with you. I have to warn you, though… I’m not a cheap date.”

  He almost choked. “I… I hope we can pick just the right spot, then.” I just did it
again! What is wrong with me?

  She stood up at that moment and walked away, leaving Will thinking that she’d perhaps wondered what she was getting into, and that she’d walked away to give herself a chance to reconsider. But she returned a moment later with a plate bearing his cheeseburger and fries, which she sat before him next to the milkshake. “I added something extra,” Hope whispered to him, winking. She walked away, checking on her other customers.

  Will caught her slipping the occasional glance his way as he nibbled at the cheeseburger. That warmed him far more than the hot food on this cold, rainy evening.

  When he lifted the plate, he found a card with her name, phone number, address, a time to pick her up, and the name of the restaurant she’d chosen for their date. Will recognized the name: a high end steakhouse where a meal for two might cost more than she made in a month. He had vast mountains of money and no one he wanted to spend it on.

  Until now.

  Will cast a quick glance at the young woman with the platinum blond hair and captivating blue eyes, a woman who’d helped him articulate who he really was and what he was about. He had a feeling that he’d finally found someone with whom he wanted to share everything.

  For all eternity.

  ●●●

  Michael and Adam sat watching the events unfold on the viewscreen of the small, invisible aircraft hovering over The Diner. Michael, long the hardened warrior, wiped a tear from his eye. He shot a glance of warning at Adam, who was smirking.

  “So that’s how it all began,” Michael mused. “He meets her, love at first sight, and he invites her to dinner.”

  Adam shook his head. “You don’t understand what just happened here at all.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes. Really.” Adam met Michael’s challenging stare. “Will’s life to this point has been about confusion, about betrayal, about a lack of acceptance. His parents emotionally abandoned him from the day he was born, taking from him any sense of self-worth. Throughout his adult and public life, people have been trying to take things of value from him, whether his money or his life. In other words, everyone he’s ever met, everyone he’s come in contact with… none of them ever gave anything of value back to him. Not the unconditional love he should have received from his parents. Not the acceptance that should have come from family, friends, and business associates. No, everyone has seen Will as someone to exploit, someone to use in an effort to feel better about themselves, often by trying to knock him down. And that’s just what they’ve done.”

  “But the man’s a billionaire,” Michael protested. “You don’t exploit people like him. He’s gotten accolades and awards and.…”

  Adam shook his head. “Many of those awards are fake, and you know it… just like Will does. The awards he’s gotten that never existed before? Please. Will’s realized that those people only give in order to receive.” His face clouded. “Given his life experiences, what Will’s learned is that while some want nothing more than money—and they’ll give him an award to get it—others want his life. Not long ago, one of those people included his chief of security, and Will doesn’t even realize it yet. And maybe he never will.”

  Michael considered Adam’s words, and then shrugged. “You may be overthinking this, Adam. He saw a beautiful woman. Like I said, it’s simply a case of love at first sight.”

  “I don’t think so,” Adam replied. “You caught his thoughts. What made him happiest about that entire encounter? Her looks?”

  “I thought it was the extra whipped cream on the milkshake.”

  “No. It’s the fact that she accepted him instantly, for who he was, without showing any indication that she knew his identity. And even more critically… when she learned his name, nothing changed.”

  “She told him she wasn’t a cheap date. He has to think she knew who he was with a comment like that.”

  “She saw plans of a mansion, and he told her he couldn’t figure out how to tell his architect what was wrong with those plans. He told her, albeit indirectly, that he’s wealthy. But she sat down to help him before that. She was interested in him when he looked like he might be the architect, or the construction foreman, or even a struggling college student working on a degree. She saw someone who was having a problem, and felt the compassion to try to help, and when she found out he was rich and could have walked away because, according to you, billionaires don’t need help? She stayed. That’s what was important to him. Immediate and total acceptance of whoever she thought he was… and no change in that acceptance with each new revelation, and each lame joke.”

  “You really think he processed all of that in those few seconds?” Michael arched an eyebrow, skeptical.

  Adam matched Michael with an arched eyebrow of his own. “He told me all of that a few decades ago. So… yes, I do.”

  “And now, with that emotional backing he’s never before sensed… the sky’s the limit for our Young Will.”

  Adam nodded, still deep in thought.

  “Rather fortuitous that it all worked out so well, isn’t it?” Michael asked.

  Adam snorted. “Fortuitous? Hope had to use Energy to encourage the manager to put her on shift tonight. Aaron manipulated the limo driver to follow a specific route. Eva encouraged the head of security to say things that made Will angry, uncomfortable, and ultimately led him to choose to eat alone at the first restaurant he saw. There was nothing fortuitous about it.”

  Michael considered that. “It’s ironic, then.”

  “How so?”

  “A man like Will, such a proponent of the idea of living his life in his own way, making his own choices in complete freedom… yet something like this, so critical to his life and future, was orchestrated to happen. I find that incredibly ironic.”

  Adam shrugged. “We rarely have full control over the circumstances we find ourselves in throughout our lives, Michael. Others are always trying to push us in a direction they desire, and some push to a greater degree than others. Yet the choice of how to respond and react to those circumstances is the one freedom that can never be taken from us. Were events orchestrated by others so that Will was in position to enter that restaurant at that specific time? Yes. But nobody forced him to talk to Hope, to open up to her, and certainly not to ask her out to dinner. Given the circumstances, he made his decision about how to react… and those decisions are the ones that will lead him to be with Hope for the next thousand years.”

  Adam thought about how the next year would unfold for Young Will, about the whirlwind romance, the scandalous whispers from gossip columnists and tabloids and late night TV hosts savaging Will for dating someone so young. Hope would fare no better, mocked as a woman too young to be in such a serious relationship, a woman clearly old enough, though, to prey on the insecurities of the young, orphaned, billionaire bachelor, motivated only by money. As challenging as these times would be for Young Will, though, he suspected that had he known what was coming in the next year, he’d still make the same choice. And if he’d known the larger future and future history he’d live as a result of that choice, that he’d live a thousand years to ensure his wife survived to meet him this day?

  He’d still make the same choice.

  Every single time.

  X

  Construction

  2021 A.D.

  Hope sensed that Will was staring at her. That wasn’t uncommon, but the expression of concern on his face was different. She turned her head slowly, pretending to try to read the expression on his face, before feigning a lack of success. “What’s wrong?”

  “Isn’t it… bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding?”

  He looked so deeply concerned at the possibility that Hope couldn’t help laughing. “That little myth is for the day of the wedding, silly, which isn’t until tomorrow.” Will grinned sheepishly. “In many cases, the families of the bride and groom have a final celebratory meal the day before the wedding, and the bride and groom are always there. S
o there’s no concern about seeing each other today.”

  Will lowered his head, looking pensive. “And there’s no family to hold a family dinner in any event.” He let his expression soften in anticipation of what was yet to come this day.

  Hope pointed up ahead, through the screen dividing the limousine’s rear compartment from the driver, and smiled. “I personally think this is far more interesting than a meal.”

  Even from this distance, they were aware of the heavy machinery. Gears squealed, pushing earth and mixing concrete. The scent of diesel fuel filled the air. As they moved closer, the vibrations of the equipment rattled the cabin of the limousine. The speed with which the heavily guarded estate community was materializing before their eyes was magical. It was “guarded” in only an indirect manner; Will’s request for an exemption to allow his community guards to carry weapons had been denied.

  The structure would have to be a sufficient deterrent on its own to those who might mean them harm.

  The limousine came to a stop, and the driver opened the door a moment later. Will stepped out, nodded to his chief of security, Lance Maynard, and reached inside to help Hope step out of the vehicle. She emerged, blinking into the bright sunlight, and stared at the sight before her.

  She shook her head in awe. “It’s absolutely amazing.”

  Will nodded, his mood brightening. “Everything on the outside is built so that once we’re inside, we have nothing to fear. We’ll find peace, tranquility, and pleasant neighbors. Those who might want to do us harm have to first determine if they have the means and the will to get inside.” He chuckled. “We’re ensuring that they make the correct decision in that regard.”

  The community looked like an island, set off from the road and surrounding lands by a moat nearly one hundred feet deep. When they filled the moat with water, they’d have an intimidating initial physical barrier between the outside world and the community. A bridge over the moat provided the sole access point into the neighborhood.