Selena
The crowd erupted with applause and cheers as I emerged from my side of the podium. My heart pounded in my chest, but I forced a smile, one so wide I feared my face might split open. Ahead of me stood two men, their tailored suits practically gleaming under the bright lights.
As I approached them, cameras flashed wildly. My hands trembled slightly as I stretched them out, presenting the wreath to the elderly man. He leaned in close as he accepted it, his voice warm and low.
"Thank you so much," he whispered, a genuine smile crinkling his face.
I nodded politely, returning the smile but saying nothing. The elderly man handed the wreath to the younger man beside him. Together, we moved to take our seats on the podium, and to my surprise, I was placed right next to the younger man.
Sliding into the chair, I could feel his eyes on me, his gaze unwavering and intense. I hesitated, unsure if I should say something, but decided to remain calm, keeping a polite smile on my face.
Turning slightly toward him, I caught the movement of his lips, though the noise of the crowd drowned out his words.
"How fast could that be?" he said, glancing at his wristwatch.
I blinked, confused. Was he talking to me? Just to clarify, I leaned closer and asked, "How fast could what be?"
He turned to me, looking genuinely startled that I'd heard him. His surprise quickly gave way to a sheepish grin.
"Sorry, you heard that," he said softly. Then, his tone shifted, a little more confident as he added, "You look stunning in that gown."
"Thank you, sir," I whispered back, feeling a slight blush creep up my cheeks.
"Call me Richard," he said with a small chuckle, leaning closer to ensure I could hear.
Before I could ask him to repeat himself, the moderator's voice boomed through the speakers, cutting our conversation short.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let us welcome Mr. Patrick Anderson, the CEO of Panders Homes and Construction."
The elderly man rose from his seat to a round of applause.
"Thank you all for coming out today to hear an old man ramble," Mr. Patrick began, his tone jovial, eliciting chuckles from the audience. "But I'll admit, I'm getting too old for this game. My mind's sharp, but my body... well, let's just say it feels like jelly most days."
The crowd laughed appreciatively, and Mr. Patrick, clearly in his element, continued. "But enough about me. Today, I'm handing over the reins to someone far more capable. Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce the real star of today's show—my grandson, Richard Anderson."
There was a murmur of surprise from the audience as the younger man beside me stood, smoothing his suit as he approached his grandfather. They shared a handshake that was met with enthusiastic applause.
"Thank you, Grandpa," he said, his voice steady but warm. Turning to the crowd, he added, "And thank you all for being here. It's an honor to share insights on global opportunities for real estate in emerging markets."
His speech was polished, his confidence radiating as he navigated through complex points with ease. I found myself impressed despite my earlier nerves. He held the audience spellbound and when he concluded, the audience erupted in applause once again.
Mr. Patrick, still seated, chuckled into the microphone. "Thank you, Richard. You've almost convinced me to trade in my shares for a realtor's license."
The audience laughed, the energy in the room lighter than before.
The moderator stepped forward. "We have time for just two questions before we wrap up. Other inquiries can be directed to the organizers via email or social media."
Without overthinking, I raised my hand. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but Mr. Richard nodded for me to proceed.
"Thank you," I began, my voice steady despite the nerves bubbling in my stomach. "My name is Selena Lawrence. I would like to start by asking, Mr. Alfred, how do you respond to criticism regarding projects that displace residents especially the Indigenous people, which ultimately disrupting communal living?"
The room fell quiet, tension thick in the air. Mr. Patrick raised his microphone, but Richard gestured for him to hold back.
"Thank you, Miss Lawrence," Richard said, his tone thoughtful. "It's a valid concern. Displacement is never an easy decision, and we take steps to ensure transparency with the affected communities. Fair compensation and relocation support are part of our process. We strive to rebuild community ties wherever possible."
Mr. Patrick chimed in, his voice rich with pride. "Young lady, I encourage you to visit our recent development downtown. Fifty families were successfully relocated with state support and community collaboration. It's in the papers. Progress doesn't always mean disruption; it can also mean transformation."
The audience broke into applause, and another question was fielded before the event concluded.
As the crowd dispersed, I checked my phone. My shift at the café was fast approaching, and punctuality was a point of pride for me.
"I have to go," I muttered, mostly to myself, before noticing Mrs. Baxter waving me over. I started walking briskly in her direction when I felt a light tap on my arm.
"Miss Lawrence," a deep, familiar voice called out. I turned to see Richard standing a few steps away, leaning slightly closer to speak over the growing hum of the dispersing crowd.
"Yes?" I asked, pausing mid-step.
"I was trying to catch your attention earlier," he said, his brow furrowing slightly. "Your question about the communities was... thoughtful. We need more people asking those kinds of questions."
"Thank you," I said, smiling. "It's something I care about."
He nodded, glancing toward the noise of the crowd. "You're in a rush?"
"Yes, I've got somewhere I need to be," I said, gesturing toward Mrs. Baxter, who was now motioning more urgently.
"Ah, of course. Well…" he hesitated for a moment, then added, "Perhaps next time we'll have more time to talk."
"Next time," I repeated with a polite nod, stepping back toward the dressing room. "Goodbye, Mr. Richard."
"Goodbye, Miss Lawrence," he replied, a faint smile lingering on his face as I turned and hurried toward Mrs. Baxter.
"You were fantastic!" she said, patting my shoulder. "I wouldn't have had the nerve."
"Thank you, Mrs. Baxter," I said, smiling as I gathered my belongings. "But I need to head to work."
After changing out of the gown and back into my jeans and cardigan, I left the dressing room. On my way out, I spotted Chloe sulking in a corner. Deciding it was best to avoid her, I quickened my pace.
As I exited the building, my phone buzzed. It was Ella.
"Meet me at the park," she said briskly before hanging up.
"That was rude," I muttered, rolling my eyes. But I didn't have time to dwell.
I just wanted my library card back and to make it to my shift on time.