"Steps fueled by your passion produce more results than steps that aren't. You're only limited by your imagination, nothing else. So spread your wings as wide as you can and soar, the world is yours to take. Perseverance, patience, passion. If you remember nothing else, take these three P's with you. Keep them in your heart as you work on making your dreams into a reality. Thank you." I conclude my speech and lift my head a bit, before taking a step back as the roaring applause from the audience stun me for a moment.

It rolls over me like a wave, echoing around the auditorium of the William V. S Tubman high school. This reaction from students is unheard of, and it makes me smile a little. I feel Phoebe's hand on my arm and I let her lead me away from the podium.

"Amazing as always, boss." She squeezes my shoulder and guides me to my seat on the side, where I was placed with the school's administration. I just smile and sit as ladylike as possible. One of the teachers assume the podium and start to talk about my achievements, while discreetly adding my disability.

I can feel Phoebe tense up beside me, like she usually does. The people around me are self-conscious about the fact that I'm blind when I can barely get myself to care. I mean, sometimes I get curious about the world and want to see my fabrics and the things that I sew but I've accepted the fact that it isn't going happen.

It will be nice to know what Phoebe really looks like though.

"Miss Padmore will be giving us fifteen minutes out of her busy schedule today for any questions that you might have. I'll let you know when you can start asking. For now, let's give a big round of applause for Miss Padmore as she comes back onstage."

They clap and I wear my smile before walking towards his voice. Phoebe stays at my side, a hand slightly under my elbow. When I settle, she steps back and I lift my head as high as is allowed.

"I encourage all of you to ask any questions that you might have. I'll do my best to answer them honestly. I'm here so that your confidence that might have disappeared can resurface. If a blind girl like me could create a striving business for herself, you can do more. If I could become a millionaire in this country without sight, there's so much you can do with your perfect sight. I'm ready for your questions."

The hall begins to buzz with excitement. I can feel their many questions that they are about to hit me with. I smile in quiet anticipation.

"We are ready for questions." The teacher's voice is somewhat shaky, like he's nervous. He probably is. "Just raise your hand if you have a question. Wow. This is unbelievable. Okay. Girl in the second row. Please stand, call your name and ask your question."

"Good afternoon, Miss Padmore. My name is Monkonjay Johnson. My question to you is; how do you sew without sight? Or do you have someone who does the sewing for you?"

I laugh before answering. "Very important question, Monkonjay. My mother taught me how to sew when I was nine years old. I pricked myself a lot and my lines were always crooked but I never gave up. There were days that I avoided the machine though, I'm not gonna lie. It was tough to learn. But the passion for making my own clothes came early and I thank God for that every day."

"To answer your question, no. Nobody sews for me unless I want them to. I sew my own clothes. It took years of practice but I'm pretty good at it now. I even sewed the pant suit I'm wearing."

"Wowww. Let's clap for Ms. Padmore. This is truly wonderful. First row, on the right. Yes, stand up, say your name and ask your question."

"Hello Ms. Padmore." I turn my head towards the voice. "My name is Crystal Morris. And my question is; how did you manage to achieve your status? Is it just from sewing lots of clothes and selling them?"

"Oh no, sweetie. The thing about growing up is knowing the difference between doing something to make a living and doing something that you're passionate about." I pause to let this sink in.

"The push for those two things are very different. When I was taking individual contracts and sewing for people and families, I was trying to look for money to eat every day. But when I got mad, when I decided to take a stand and create something huge that can rival the impact that western clothing is having on our African culture, I got off my butt and I worked. Mind you, I didn't have sight, but I had vision. I wrote sponsorship letters and I delivered them to different organizations and companies. I wrote my vision and my mission down; whatever I didn't understand, I asked someone who knew. I had little support but I didn't let it stop me. Every little contribution to my dream, I made sure to use it wisely. And I scraped enough together to do my first launch. From there, I started to move differently."

"It's not easy, students. But the push that you put behind your dream is very necessary. It's the one thing that will make or break what you say you're passionate about."

I don't expect the applause that hits me but I appreciate it. Answering their burning questions takes me back to the days when I was still trying to make sense of the thing that kept me awake at night. I have come a very long way and in a time that I consider very little.

The teacher takes over and tries to restore the quiet. "Your story is very inspiring, Ms. Padmore. We appreciate you for coming down here today to speak to us for our Dare to Dream program. Okay, we have a boy this time. Please stand, say your name and ask your question."

"Um, hi Ms. Padmore. My name is Mohammed Keita. My question is; you seem to have made it. You're very successful. But your title is still Miss. Is there a reason why you're not married?"

My heart thuds a little in my chest but I manage a smile. Before I could answer, the teacher interrupts.

"Mr. Keita, you are completely out of line for that question. Her marital status doesn't affect your dream or education-"

"Actually," I turn towards the sound of his voice, "I'd love to answer the question, please. Can I?"

He clears his throat. "Um, yeah sure. You can go ahead."

"Thank you. Mr. Keita, thank you for being brave enough to ask that question. I know all of you really want to know. The truth is; I'm not married because I haven't found the one. I'm not saying that men haven't asked for my hand. But their asking wasn't based on love, but a business deal that they believed would help me to accomplish everything that I wanted to accomplish. They believed that if I had a man behind me, people would take me seriously. Looking at where I am, I'm sure you can tell that that was not true." They all laugh. "I'm a huge believer of love. I don't believe in settling. And until I fall in love with someone, I'm perfectly content with my status. I hope I answered your question."

Satisfied murmurs hit my ear and I smile.

"Fifteen minutes up. You have a meeting in twenty minutes." Phoebe whispers to me and place her hand under my elbow. I nod in the teacher's direction and leave the podium, grabbing my cane from beside me.

While he announces to the students that I am done answering questions, we make our way outside. The tension follows us until there are barely any people around. The fresh air feels good against my face and I take in a deep breath and hold the open car door that she leads me to.

"How is Peanut?" She helps me into the car and climbs in after me. "Is he home?"

"They just got there; he went for his last shot. He should be okay."

"Awesome. And the canvasses? I hope they're not at the office, I need them delivered-"

"At home, I made sure of that. And Ms. Harris called to confirm that she wants us to style the models for her jewelry store launch, which is next week Thursday. Also, the monthly employee reviews are ready in braille, as per your request. I placed them in your office for review."

I just smile and don't say anything. She fidgets in the seat beside me, clearly sensing my slight discomfort.

"I'm sorry. I just like to make things easier for you."

"I'm aware of my disability but I'm not helpless. However, you are my assistant and it's your job so I understand. You're doing an impeccable one, by the way."

I don't answer her whispered "thank you." Instead, I let the windows down from my side and feel the air rush against my face, almost as if it is on a mission to cleanse my thoughts. I appreciate its endeavor. All the talk of relationships and marriage has my mind running towards partners that I've long forgotten about.

"Tell me about this meeting again?"

"It's with the people from DreamAfrica. They're hosting their first runway show in a month and they want your new line to be the opening act."

"Sounds very... flattering. What's the catch?"

Phoebe exhales. "Since we'll be the ones styling the models and having full control of everything...well, they're asking for a slight discount and partnership rights."

The laugh slips out before I can contain it. I turn towards her. "Partnership rights? I don't even know them."

"Everybody else does. They're a new organization but they've spread their wings so far over the country, it's hard not to notice them. They are in every Liberian owned business, even start-ups. They fund projects and ask for little in return."

"Just partnership, huh?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Warning bells go off in my head and I listen to them. "I want no part of it. Cancel the meeting."

"B-but they're at the office already. I'm not sure what to say to them."

"Pheebs. If you let me walk in there and cancel the meeting myself, it wouldn't be pretty."

She fidgets in the space beside me. "Mr. Wesley's one of the founding members. He's the one who asked for the meeting...I just thought you might like to know that."

The name pulls a smile from my lips, but I struggle not to show emotion. Michael Wesley. I haven't heard from him in ages. He is topping the list of exes that my mind is conjuring up. We certainly have a lot to discuss. "Okay. Leave it to me."

The car slows and comes to a stop in my personal garage and I open my door before Phoebe reaches me. "I'm not staying here long. I ordered some materials for my dress tomorrow night. Please have them place it in the car so I can take it home."

"Okay. You're making your own dress?"

"Yes." I walk the familiar halls confidently and find my way to the conference room. "I have a lot on my mind."

"Yes, ma'am." She leaves me at the door and goes away to do what I asked. I take a deep breath and adjust my pants before opening the door and walking in, head high. All of the talking ceases as I make my way to my seat at the top of the table.

"Friday sure looks good on you." The familiar voice comes from the seat on my right and I smile and sit down, leaning back in comfort.

"Hello to you too, Mike. Do you mind telling a blind girl who's in her conference room?"

The shuffling and embarrassed grunts go around the table, and then a voice pipes up. "Good afternoon, Ms. Padmore. I'm Wilbur Johnson. We're from DreamAfrica, a company started with the vision of rebuilding and remodeling the Liberian business system. We uh, shared information with your PA-"

"Yes, I've been informed. I'm not willing to do a partnership deal with anyone right now."

Michael speaks up from beside me. "Viv, this is quite an opportunity. Not only is it-"

I hold up a finger in his direction. "Ms. Padmore. Or Vivian, if you must. Professionalism in my office, always."

Michael chuckles and lean forward, his callouses brushing my hands on the table. "Excuse me, Ms. Padmore. This is an opportunity for your business to expand. We have a lot of shareholders who will be present for this program, which can and will be to your benefit."

"I don't doubt its benefits. I'm willing to style your models, for free even. It's good advertisement. I'm just not doing a partnership deal with anyone. That's where I draw the line. If it's a package deal, then I'm sorry. VFashion will not accept."

The silence reverberates around the room, and then the sound of chairs being pushed back fills the place. "Thank you for your time, Ms. Padmore."

"You're welcome. Thank you for stopping by." I make no move to leave my seat. Michael's chair stays in place and I feel his gaze on my face. I ignore him until it's quiet again. "What?"

"I like your jacket. Orange looks good against your skin."

I roll my eyes. "I know. But thank you."

"And those jeans, wow. How many years has it been? You look amazing."

"I feel amazing. Why are you disturbing me? What's all this?" I stand up and he quickly leaps to my side and grab one of my hands off the table.

"It's an opportunity. Just a business opportunity, you overthink everything."

I don't have to have sight to imagine the stupid smirk on his face. "For a good reason. After being underestimated for a good number of years, I'm finally making headlines and here you come. Swooping in to prey on the little blind girl, I'm not stupid, Michael. You're getting something out of it and I want no part of it."

"Of course I'm getting something out of it, it's business. But nothing that you wouldn't agree to."

I scoff and take my hand out of his. "Right. Read my full, Bassa lips. Not interested."

"Righttt. The ones I can't stop staring at right now." I feel his hands on my face and sigh. It has been too long since I was with him. And if I'm being honest, I miss the feeling that he brings. Focus.

"What game are you playing now? Plays of seduction don't work on me."

"Anymore, you mean?" He laughs, making me take a step back. "I'm sorry, couldn't help it. I'm not seducing you, Vivian. I just missed you. You stopped wearing the shades."

"Yes. I'm blind, everybody knows. And it hurt my nose," I walk towards the door. "You broke up with me. I don't think that gives you a license to miss me."

"I don't need one. You've always had a way of bypassing everything logical."

I snort intentionally and shake my head. "Corny as always. Does that still work on the ladies?"

"Too focused on work for ladies." He catches me at the door and grabs my elbow gently. "Have dinner with me tonight? Please?"

"My night is booked, I have things to do."

"Early dinner then. Please? It's been too long."

I don't want to admit it but he's right. "I thought you were too busy for the ladies."

"That doesn't apply to you. I'll call you," his lips brush against the side of my mouth and he exits the room, leaving me speechless for a second.

•Here we go•