Billionaire Attended College Alumni Dinner, Never Thought Former Classmate Would Educate His Heart
The Reunion of Two Worlds
Xavier Lawson shoved his hands into the pockets of his tailored Armani suit. He stared at the grand entrance of his Alma’s alumni hall with a mixture of reluctance and nostalgia.
Fifteen years after graduation, he had transformed from a scholarship student with big dreams to a billionaire shipping magnate. He had more money than time. Yet, he felt strangely empty standing before the building where his journey began.
“Mr. Lawson, we’re absolutely thrilled you could make it,” gushed the alumni coordinator.
Her enthusiasm seemed to grow in direct proportion to the size of Xavier’s latest donation to the university.
“Everyone’s been wondering if you’d actually show.”
“I RSVP’d, didn’t I?” Xavier replied.
His voice carried the slight edge that had become his trademark in boardrooms across the globe. He immediately regretted his tone.
“Sorry, long flight from Singapore.”
“Of course, of course. Please come in. The class of 2008 has been waiting for their most successful alumnus.”
Xavier followed her through the doors, mentally preparing for an evening of superficial conversations and business pitches. Classmates suddenly remembered their close friendship with him. These events were always the same charitable obligations.
He would write another check and smile for photos. The grand ballroom was transformed with twinkling lights and banners. Xavier accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, using it as a shield while scanning the room.
He recognized some faces, like the former student body president and a football star. He saw the debate team captain who had become a federal judge.
“Xavier Lawson, as I live and breathe.”
He turned at the sound of a warm, melodic voice. Standing before him was a woman with coppery auburn hair. Her simple but elegant emerald dress was striking.
Her smile was genuine, reaching all the way to intelligent hazel eyes. They studied him without the usual dollar signs he had grown accustomed to seeing.
“I’m sorry, I—” he began.
“Don’t remember me?” She laughed.
There was something refreshingly unpretentious about the sound.
“I’m not surprised. I was just the quiet girl who corrected your econometrics proofs in Professor Bennett’s advanced seminar.”
Recognition dawned on Xavier’s face.
“Cassidy Sullivan.”
“So your memory isn’t completely eroded by boardroom politics,” she teased.
“You’re hard to forget once I place you. You saved my grade that semester.”
“And you bought me exactly one coffee as thanks,” she recalled. “The cheapest on campus, if I recall.”
There was no bitterness in her voice, only amusement. Xavier felt something unexpected: genuine embarrassment.
“I was counting every penny back then. We all were.”
“Well, most of us,” she tilted her head. “Though I hear you’ve solved that particular problem rather definitively.”
