A Loving Light
Copyright© 2026 by Marc Nobbs
Chapter 15: The Family Dinner
It was about six-thirty when the six people in the Boardroom returned to us on the Terrace. Kayla was beaming as she walked by Jessie’s side, clutching her arm and chatting like old friends.
Jessie wore a smile bright it would dazzle a blind man.
Chloë was on Jessie’s other side, and the three men were a few paces behind the young women, with Sam in the middle.
Ben, Marcus, Lana and I stood as they entered. Marie was by my side before they reached us.
“James says that’s four more people than we planned for now, so he’s arranging an additional car too.”
I raised an eyebrow. “James?”
“Sam’s PA,” Marie said as if that explained everything. I stared at her.
“It takes a team to manage all this, Paul.” She grinned. “James would like me to send him the names of the tour manager and the two extras so he can arrange the place cards on the table.”
I shook my head. “Incredible. You’re incredible.”
She smiled as Lana touched my arm. I glanced at her to find her also smiling. She nodded.
“Jessie is the tour manager,” I said, “but Jackson and Marcus are also coming. It’ll make sense in a sec.”
By now, Carly and Jessie had reached us. Chloë hung back with Sam and the others.
“Paul,” Carly said, a big, wide smile lighting up the room, “May I officially present my new Tour Manager, Jessie Riley?”
I held out my hand. “We’ve met,” I said, grinning. “Congratulations, Jessie. And welcome aboard.”
She took my hand. “Mr Robertson, I just wanted—”
“Paul,” I said. “Call me Paul, or you’re fired.” I looked at Marie. “I can do that here, right? Fire someone for no reason.”
Marie grinned. “I believe they have very lax employment laws here, yes. Not like back home.”
I looked at Jessie again, who was wide-eyed. I instantly regretted the joke. She wasn’t Mark or Amanda, and this wasn’t the Gap and Gown. This was her livelihood. Her big opportunity. I had no right to joke about taking that away from her.
“Ignore him,” Carly said. “He’s just being silly. And besides, he can’t fire you; you work for me.”
I grinned at Jessie. “What she said.” I paused. “And I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made that joke. It wasn’t appropriate.”
Jessie looked from Carly to me, but Lana cut in before she could speak. “He’s actually a nice guy.” She looked at me. “Most of the time. Sometimes he likes to pretend to be an arsehole.”
“Oh, okay,” Jessie said. “I...” She gulped. “I just wanted to say thank you, Paul, for giving me this incredible opportunity. I—”
“Carly’s the one giving you the opportunity,” I said. “Or Kayla is. But the person you really need to thank—”
“Is Jackson. I know. And I have. And I’ll thank him every day between now and the end of July.”
“You’d better not,” Jackson said from behind her. “That could get annoying.”
She turned, and the smile she gave him was bright with relief. He answered it with a small nod that seemed to steady her. Jessie turned back to me. “I’m going to make the same promise to you that I made to Kayla, Sam and Chloë,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“I won’t let you down.”
I nodded. “I know you won’t.” I glanced at Marcus. “And Carly, Jessie, may I introduce our new...” I looked at Marcus again. “Come up with a job title yet?”
He grinned. “Digital Content and Online Engagement Manager.”
I looked back at the others. “Our new... that.”
“Really?” Jessie said. “That’s ... that’s amazing! I was just saying to Kayla, wasn’t I?” She turned to Kayla, then back to Marcus, before she could answer. “That we really need to build on what she did at her shows in London. I know we won’t be able to put YouTube comments on the screen, because these shows aren’t being streamed, but we could definitely do, like a Twitter hashtag and get everyone in the auditorium to share their thoughts and photos and—”
“I was thinking the same thing! We could have curated posts overlaid on the concert footage—I could do that on the fly during the show. And we could do videos of fan engagement leading up to the show, too. It’d be tight putting a package together, but I could do it.”
Marcus’s confidence was infectious, but as I listened to him and Jessie continue to bounce ideas off each other, I found myself thinking that although it sounded like a brilliant plan, it was one more thing that had to work. One more thing that could go wrong. But that was something to worry about another day.
I looked at Carly, grinned, and nodded. Her answering smile told me all I needed to know: we’d made the right decision.
“Champagne!” Sam said. “This calls for Champagne.”
Marie said, “I’ll get it.”
She strode over to the table, looking for all the world like an elegant, high-powered executive, and retrieved two bottles of bubbly from an ice bucket. She came back over to us and handed one to Sam, then brought the other to me.
She looked at Lana. “Help me with the glasses?”
Lana nodded, smiled, and went back over to the table with her. Without saying a word, Ben went with them.
We’d formed a rough circle, with Sam opposite me. I held up the bottle, smiled and said, “After you, Sam. Show me how it’s done.”
Lana, Ben and Marie were already handing out champagne flutes to everyone.
“Oh, no,” he said. “This is your party. I’m just a guest. When we get to Ecco, I’ll play host, but for now, the honour is yours, my boy.”
I shrugged and tore the foil off the top of the bottle, then removed the wire. Sam did the same. I held the cork in one hand and the bottle in the other, and as the last flutes were handed out. Lana stood at my side, holding both our flutes. Across from us, Marie did the same for Sam, though her own glass was already filled with what looked like sparkling water.
“In the spirit of the family we’re building for this tour,” I said, “let’s do it together. On three.”
Sam nodded, gripping his bottle and cork.
“One!” I said.
“Two,” said maybe half of us.
“THREE!” we all shouted as both Sam and I popped the corks, and everyone cheered.
Sam and I began filling people’s glasses, but as I did so, my phone beeped and vibrated in my back pocket. I handed my bottle to Ben and nodded, then took my phone out and read the message.
MADDIE: Heading back to the hotel now. What time are we meeting in the lobby for dinner?
I put my phone away, then said to Lana, “Maddie’s on the way back from the office. I’m going to go and meet her in the lobby and bring her up here. She should be a part of this, and it’ll be nice for her to meet Sam, Chloë and Carly before dinner.”
“Okay. Want me to come with you?”
“No, I’m fine. Stay here and enjoy the party. I won’t be long. Just ... Don’t let anyone make any toasts until I get back.”
She smiled and nodded, and then I left the room.
No one asked where I was going. As I headed to the elevator, I realised that was because I was ‘the boss,’ and if the boss was going somewhere, he must have a reason.
You don’t question the boss in public.
Although I did hope my team had the courage to question him in private.
The elevator doors opened with a ping, announcing that I was in the lobby. I stepped out and looked around, hoping that Maddie hadn’t already gone up to her room. Just as I thought about texting her, she walked through the entrance.
She saw me immediately.
“Paul,” she said, as she approached, a perfect eyebrow once again arched. “Shouldn’t you be at a party about now?”
I nodded. “Yes, and so should you be. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Sam and Kayla.”
I turned and walked back towards the elevator, but had only gone a few steps before I realised she wasn’t following. I turned and looked at her. Her eyebrow was no longer arched, but she was smiling. “Are you coming?”
She nodded, then trotted a few steps to catch up with me. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, you are a fascinating young man, Paul Robertson.”
I smiled, shook my head, and we started walking towards the elevator again. As we passed the concierge desk, I overheard the man from a couple speaking to the young woman behind the desk.
“We’re here to meet with Mr Bradwell. I was told he was on the Ballroom Terrace. Is that correct?”
The concierge shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, Sir. We have no meetings under that name today.”
“Oh, okay. What about Samuels? Brad Samuels?”
She shook her head again. “No, sir. I’m sorry.”
The man looked at the woman next to him. “It must be under the kid’s name, but I can’t remember...” He looked at the concierge again. “Robinson?”
She again shook her head.
I stopped walking and said to Maddie, “Hang on a sec.” Then I went over to the desk.
“Sorry, excuse me for interrupting. Are you Isaiah Monroe? Susan Monroe?”
The man looked at me and frowned. His eyes narrowed. “Yes, that’s us.”
I held out my hand. “Paul Robertson, we spoke, very briefly, on the phone when Sam called you earlier.”
“You’re the one Sam wants us to meet? When he said ‘young man’, I didn’t think he meant...” He looked at his wife. At Susan. Then back at me. “You’re funding a tour? Is this Sam’s idea of a joke?”
“It’s not a joke,” I said, seriously. “Come on, we’re up on the Ballroom Terrace, like you thought. I came down to collect my associate, and we’re on the way back up there now.”
I went back over to Maddie, then turned back to the couple. They must have been in their late forties or early fifties. Isaiah’s skin was dark, although not as dark as Jackson’s, and had a weathered look to it—like he’d spent too much time in the sun. Susan had similar signs of age, but was the very definition of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty.
I arched an eyebrow. “Coming?”
The pair exchanged a glance, then came over to me. I smiled at them.
“Maddie,” I said. “This is Isaiah and Susan Monroe. They are, I hope, going to be my representatives on the tour. Isaiah, Susan, this is Madeleine Kerr, from Radcliffe Grant.”
Isaiah raised both eyebrows. “Radcliffe Grant, eh? Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand, which Maddie shook.
“Likewise,” she said. “So, you’re going to be looking after my client’s interests on the tour, are you?”
Isaiah smiled. “Well, let’s hear what he has to say for himself first before we make any decisions, shall we?”
“Sam,” I called as we entered the Terrace. “I found someone looking for you downstairs.”
Sam turned around. “I wondered where you wen—Isaiah! Susan! So glad you could come. Please, come in and have some Champagne.” He looked around. “Are there any more glasses? Do we have some more glasses?”
Marie strode over to the table, where both bottles had been placed back in the ice bucket, and poured three more flutes. She took two of them to Isaiah and Susan, then quickly returned to the table to fetch the third glass, which she handed to Maddie.
“Marie, darling, I could have gotten my own. You’re not a servant.”
Marie shrugged. “How was your afternoon?”
“Not as much fun as yours, I’d wager. Or my morning, for that matter.” She leaned forward and whispered just loud enough for me to hear, which I’m sure was her intention, “So, how much of Paul’s money did you spend?”
“Oh, not too much,” Marie said. “Just a couple of thousand.” She glanced at me and grinned. I already knew she was joking. I’d seen the receipts.
“Really?” said Maddie. “How did you manage to be so ... restrained?”
Both the younger and the older woman started laughing. I shook my head, rolled my eyes, and tapped Maddie on the elbow. When she smiled at me, I nodded towards the Most Famous Man on the Planet. She nodded back, and together we went to make the introduction.
“Sam,” I said when we got to him. “I’d like to introduce Madeleine Kerr, from Radcliffe—”
“Radcliffe Grant. Yes, I’ve heard. Fascinating.” He held out his huge hand, and Maddie shook it gently.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr Bradwell.”
He smiled. “Please, call me Sam. And the pleasure is all mine. Now, Miss Kerr—”
“Maddie. Or Madeleine, if you prefer.”
“Maddie, I’ve sat you next to me at dinner. I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been thinking about moving some of my assets in London to a different institution. My current people are ... They’re not particularly proactive. I’d love to have a conversation about what you can do for me.”
“I’d love that ... Sam. But really, the only business conversation we need to have is that I am extremely proactive for all my clients. Just ask Paul.”
Sam nodded. “Good to hear. Tell me more over dinner. But for now, with the host back, I think it’s time for the toasts.”
Slowly, calmly, and as if he had done it a hundred times before, he simply turned to face the room, where everyone was now gathered in several small groups and raised his glass to chest height.
It was Chloë who noticed it first. She was talking to Glenn and Ben. She placed her hand on Ben’s arm and nodded for him to turn around.
One by one, someone in each group noticed Sam’s gesture, and quicker than I would have thought possible, the chatter died, and the room fell silent.
“I think,” said Sam, “before we make our preparations to leave for dinner, we should hear a few words from the man who brought us all here today. A man whose mission has become our mission. This tour’s mission. Paul Robertson, everyone.”
Sam gently clapped the back of his hand holding the flute, with his other hand, and everyone else joined in.
I had not been expecting this.
“Well, I ... I haven’t prepared anything,” I said. “Which might not be a bad thing. The last time I gave an impromptu speech, it went down quite well.”
“You were phenomenal,” Marie said, smiling.
“Hear, hear,” said Ben.
“Very inspirational,” Maddie said, the last of the three who had been at the Board meeting.
I smiled and nodded at each one in turn. Then I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Thanks for that. Now you’ve built up everyone’s expectations, they’re bound to be disappointed.”
“You could never disappoint me, Paul,” Carly said.
“You’re biased,” Lana said.
Carly just smiled. Then Lana blushed.
I shook my head. Then I took a shallow breath.
“Today is ... What day is it? I think I’ve lost track.”
“Twenty-first of March,” Chloë said.
“Thanks. Twenty-first of March. Less than three months ago, I returned to my dark, cold home in Westmouth, a town I’m sure most of the people in this room have never heard of, and I was alone. Sure, my housemates were on their way home, but for a few hours, I was completely alone.”
I looked at Carly and smiled.
“Four days later, I was lucky enough to be invited to my good friend’s small gathering at the top of the tallest building in London, and Carly came back into my life, allowing me to correct one of the biggest mistakes I have ever made.”
Carly smiled and mouthed, “I love you.”
I nodded back at her. Then I took another breath.
“I have always said I want to use the money left to me in such terrible circumstances to do some good. Well, ‘doing good’ takes many forms. Allowing a talented artist the time and space to make the music she wanted to make, was something good. And helping her to share that music with the world, and put on the show she wants to put on, with no interference from greedy corporations, is something good.”
I looked around the room.
“And using that tour to celebrate women, and minorities, and to encourage the talented young people in the cities we visit to keep on making the music they love ... That’s a good thing, too. We have a huge opportunity here, and I am proud to be the one helping Carly make the most of it. I am proud that we are going to tell every person who feels unseen, ‘We Hear You’ and ‘We See You.’ I am proud that we are going to take Kayla’s incredible talent and share it with the world and tell that world, ‘We Get It.’ I’m proud we are going to try and make a difference.”
I raised my glass high.
“To the Alabama Sweetheart Tour. We Hear You.”
Around the room, there was a chorus of “We Hear You!”
Then Sam held his glass high and said, “To making a difference.”
The room responded, and then my friends and colleagues—my new tour family—broke into applause.
Yeah, it seems I wasn’t bad at this speech-making business.
I wasn’t the slightest bit surprised that Lana, Marie, and Carly headed straight for me when the applause died away. Sam just looked at me and nodded once. Ben offered a smile and a wink. Maddie—just a smile. She didn’t even arch one of those perfect eyebrows.
But the girls—my girls—were far more effusive.
“You were brilliant. Again,” Marie said.
“You really were,” Lana said. “I’m glad I didn’t miss this one.”
I smiled at her and nodded.
“Did you really mean that?” Carly said.
“Mean what?”
“Well ... All of it?” She blushed.
“Correcting the biggest mistake of your life,” Lana said with a sigh. “She’s asking if you really thought that leaving her in Nashville two years ago was the biggest mistake of your life.”
“One of them, yes,” I said to Carly. Then I looked at Lana. “I told you at the Trust launch what I thought my biggest mistake was.”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.