All That Really Matters - Nicole Deese Page 0,30

totally okay if you don’t care for them,” I hedged. “You are under no obligation to wear them, or even to like them—”

She shook her head slowly, but no verbal response followed. Instead, she went over to the worn couch in the massive lobby and sat, setting the box beside her with a reverence that made the back of my throat tingle.

As she slipped off her worn sandals and lifted the shoes out of the box, I held my breath. I hadn’t anticipated the moment to feel like this . . . but then again, I hadn’t expected Glo to look as if I’d given her an all-expenses-paid island vacation, either.

She slipped one foot inside the matte-black kitten heel and then did the same with the other one. Standing up, she took a wobbly step forward, righting herself quickly before strutting her way across the lobby. And then back again.

She spun on one heel. “You weren’t lying. These really are comfortable.”

I clasped my hands and held them tightly to my chest. “So you like them?”

“I love them.” Again, she met my eyes with a wonder that caused something to bump and burst inside my chest. “And they’re quite possibly the best bribe I’ve ever received . . . and that’s saying something.”

I flashed her a guilty grin. “To be fair, I would have bought them for you anyway, on principle. Because I believe every woman should own a pair of go-to heels to spice up an outfit if she wants them. But yes, I am hoping you might help me with something.”

She laughed and tilted her head to the side. “Have you come back for a redo?”

“A . . . redo?”

“That’s our lingo around the house for a second go. Another chance. A do-over.”

I nodded. “Then, yes. I’m here for a redo. I have—” I reached inside my satchel and pulled out a rose gold portfolio folder that contained the syllabus I’d worked on until 2:00 a.m. One I hoped Silas couldn’t refuse.

“Ah, good for you, Molly. Silas can be . . .” Glo pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to her tapping foot. “Hmm . . . I could get used to this sound.”

I laughed.

“He can be a bit rigid at times.”

I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from saying one of the fifteen hundred comebacks currently scrolling through my mind.

“But,” she continued, “he has integrity. More than anybody you’ll meet this side of heaven.” She paused and looked at me straight on. “We’re lucky to have him—not only for all he does at The Bridge, but for the way he believes our world can be.” She shook her head, sadness creeping onto her face. “It’s a special person who can see all he’s seen and experience all he’s experienced and still have faith for better days ahead.”

Her praise of Silas pinged against a tender place in my subconscious, one I hadn’t visited or explored in a very long while. I shook my head, brushing away the lingering impressions of a young girl who so badly wanted to believe that she, too, could be worthy of the praise her family members so often received for their good works and selfless callings.

“Do you think I might be able to meet with him for a few minutes? I have something I’d like to hand him in person, if possible.”

Glo smiled. “You’re in luck. Our residents are all away at school or work at this time of day, so Silas is actually out on the grounds tending to a few things.”

“Oh . . .” I turned uncertainly, attempting to catch a glimpse of him through the windows.

“I’m happy to point you in the right direction. Last I checked, he was doing some repair work in the girls’ cottage. I can find out for sure, though.”

She lifted her phone, and I held out my hand to stop her. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d like to just pop in on him for a minute. I won’t take up too much of his time. Promise.” Also, I was ninety-nine percent sure that if she called to alert him of my presence, Silas would have zero qualms about sending me packing.

Glo hesitated, then seemed to make peace with something in her mind. “How about I walk you to the path that leads to the cottage. Jake, his younger brother, is with him today.” The woman’s mouth quirked a bit as she opened the front door and gestured for me to follow. “You’ll