The Fine Print

Zahra

Today is the last day I will have to see Rowan’s beautiful, manipulative face ever again. That’s the only thing that keeps me motivated as I walk into the boardroom located within his office suite on Story Street. Everything was coordinated by some Kane employee sworn to an NDA, including the time and place. 

I’m the first one to arrive out of the panel, which only adds to my nerves. I pull out my notebook from my backpack and start doodling nonsense to keep my mind occupied. 

The door creeks open and Martha strolls in. 

“Martha!” I jump up and give her a hug. “Is Mr. Kane asking you to help him set up?” 

She shakes her head. “Nope. The late Mr. Kane asked me to be here.” 

“Really?” 

She shows off her sweet laugh lines. “Don’t sound so surprised. I worked for that man for decades. I know this park better than him, and he knew it.” 

My laugh is interrupted by the door opening again. Whatever warmth lingered from Martha’s hug is quickly sucked out of me as Seth Kane walks into the room. 

Oh shit. Brady chose Rowan’s father as part of the board? It takes a lot of self-restraint to not explode on Mr. Kane after everything I’ve learned about him. If looks could kill, he would have been eviscerated by my stare alone. 

He ignores Martha and me like we don’t exist, probably because to him, we don’t. The only people worthy of his attention are those who either share his blood or share his business interest. His sharp suit and emotionless face hide the awful man lingering beneath. I’m tempted to rip apart the vile man who would call their own child pathetic and make them feel lesser than for being different. 

My fists ball up beside my jeans. 

Martha pats my hand. “Now, now. This isn’t the time for anger.” 

I sigh and take a few deep breaths. “I’m not upset.” 

She leans in and whispers. “It shows you still care about him. Good.” 

Good? What is going on here? 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, darling.” She pats my cheek. “I put two and two together when Mr. Kane asked me to get him Juliana De La Rosa on the line. And given our conversation about her books, I co

Martha is so damn smart. We sit next to one another while Mr. Kane takes the seat across the table. Two more unknown people enter the room, but I’m pretty sure one of them is the Director of the Shanghai park. 

“Did Rowan know you were on the board?” 

“Rowan? God, no. I can’t wait to see his reaction later.” 

I stare at her. 

She presses a hand against her chest. “Wait. Did you think Rowan knew you were on the board?” 

I nod, unable to speak because my heart’s lodged in my throat. This whole day is going to be an information overload. 

She laughs and wraps me in another hug. “No. That’s half the fun in today’s meeting.” 

“Fun?” 

“Of course. Brady had a flare for the dramatics. This whole shindig is his way of making his grandkids work for it.” 

“Work for what?” 

Martha is cut off by Rowan entering the room. He looks extra devastating today, in a sharp black suit and a matching black tie. His eyes collide with mine. It’s like all the air is sucked out of my lungs and my head grows woozy. 

Snap out of it. 

Rowan looks around the rest of the room. Everyone stands and shakes his hand. He says hello to each person by name, and I let out a breath of relief at him at least being aware of his target audience. 

Why do you care? He lied to you for this stupid vote. 

When he gets to me, he holds out his hand. I grab onto it, and a similar buzz rushes through my body, starting from my fingers before spreading all the way to my toes. 

“Ms. Gulian. Thank you for being here today.” The timbre of his voice does bad things to the lower half of my body. His eyes linger on my flushed cheeks, and his thumb caresses my hand before he lets go. 

I clear my throat. “Mr. Kane.” I nod and take my seat. 

He steps toward the front of the room and turns on the projector. His presentation is already set up, and I nudge Martha. 

“Have you seen it yet?” 

She zips her lips and throws the invisible key away. 

Rowan steps away from the podium as he holds on to the clicker. He gets through some of the basic openings, including expressing his gratitude for our time and whatnot. His eyes always find mine at the end of his sentence, like he actually wants my approval. 

He clicks to the first slide, showing a black and white picture of his grandfather in front of a half-complete castle. “My grandfather asked me to determine Dreamland’s weaknesses and create something worthy of his legacy. Upon first inspection of the park, I had wondered what I could possibly do that hasn’t been thought of before. Dreamland in many ways is perfect.” 

I turn my attention from Rowan toward his father. It’s obvious where Rowan learned his flat affect from because I don’t think I see any reaction from Seth Kane beside his eyes blinking. 

At least he’s not frowning yet. 

“I spent the past six months working with the park developers to come up with a renovation plan that would stand out above the rest. Creators spent countless hours developing new ride ideas, land concepts, float additions, and more. I had every intention of showing those designs today—in fact, I created a whole presentation centered around expanding Dreamland.” 

Mr. Kane’s finger taps once against the table before stilling. Is that his tell? If so, what does it mean? 

“Over the last month, I spent time breaking down my grandfather’s words. I came to the realization that finding weaknesses means more than increasing revenue or allocating funds better.” 

He moves onto the next slide, a picture of Brady with the entire Dreamland staff in front of the castle. If I squint, I can find myself still rocking braces since my parents snuck me in the photo when I was only a teen. 

“During my grandfather’s time in a coma, the weaknesses slowly became overlooked because of our strengths. The more Dreamland grew, the easier it was to ignore the smaller issues because more money meant more success. My grandfather wrote how there was a special person who helped him realize his mistakes, and I was fortunate enough to have met the same individual.” He offers me the smallest Rowan smile to ever exist. 

Is he talking about me? Brady Kane referenced me in his letter? My entire chest warms and my heart threatens to burst. 

“This person showed me how money becomes meaningless when we ignore the very people who help us make a profit. They were vocal about the issues with Dreamland, and I was intrigued by these so-called weaknesses. I began interviewing employees at random from all departments, and what I found was shocking.”

The next slide is an image of Ralph. “This is Ralph. He’s been a dedicated ride mechanic at Dreamland for the past fifty years, making him our oldest employee besides my grandfather. When I asked him how he felt about all the Dreamland wage changes and insurance benefit cuts, he told me it didn’t matter. Of course, I thought that was a bizarre statement. Out of the two hundred employees I interviewed, Ralph was the only person who said it didn’t matter. So, naturally, I asked him why that was. And he told me that he recently found out he has stage four pancreatic cancer and his health insurance couldn’t cover the kind of treatment he needs.”