Page 22 of Not As Advertised

My first full day of this business trip, and even though I had technically set the itinerary, I had no idea how I was going to handle meeting endless streams of strangers.

This morning, Aiden and I were scheduled to check out a nonprofit called BrownBagthat provided kids and their families in LA with additional food resources through a neighborhood pantry system. The program received donations via the local food bank, which were then packaged into meal staples by volunteers. BrownBag’s social media shared the current state of food bank usage: approximately eighty-three million Americans currently experienced food insecurity (and nine million were children).

That’s where Appealcame in. Nonprofits across the country could benefit from partnerships with corporations. Grace and Anna had designed a pitch that could be tailored to each prospective corporation to encourage increasing theircompany’s charitable donations. It modeled growth for both the nonprofit and the corporations through targeted advertising to various demographics.

Basically, as I understood it, it meant getting the nonprofits more money as a result of the corporations earning more goodwill points with existing and new customers.

I rushed to get ready after the alarm snoozed, scanning the room to make sure I had everything I needed for the day.

Satisfied I did, I made for the hotel room door. My phone buzzed with a text from Aiden as I reached for the handle.

Aiden

Good morning, Abbie. I’m going to have to meet you at the BrownBag office. There’s a call with the Board that Jack needs me for. The car is waiting for you when you are ready.

Abbie

No problem. Do you need anything else from me? Just heading down for breakfast.

Please have already eaten.Please.Please. It was too early to make stunted small talk, especially because I felt a little unsettled after spending time with him and his sister.

Aiden

No, thank you. I grabbed something early after the gym.

Abbie

Sounds good. See you there.

Aiden

Abbie, also sending something to your email for your review at breakfast. No rush, just a heads up.

Seeing those three dots appear and disappear a few times, I waited to see if he would elaborate. But ultimately, no other messages came through.

In no hurry to begin my workday before that first glorious sip of caffeine, I didn’t check my inbox. Making my way to the little bistro in the lobby, I ordered breakfast and spent a couple of minutes people-watching before the staff member delivered my coffee.

After a sip and a deep breath, I opened my inbox for the latest task he’d sent.

Oddly, and totally unlike Aiden’s usual organized manner, the email didn’t have a subject line. That in itself was pretty weird. I bet every email he had ever received was in a highly specific folder and archived perfectly. After all, per page fifteen in my EA instructions, I’d created no less than thirty folders in his brand-new Appealinbox on my second day on the job.

And the email itself had no content other than the words “For you” and an attachment.

When I opened the file, my breath caught. I was glad I had set my coffee down before reading the email, or I would have spit it out in shock.

He’d bought me a ticket toAnime Expo. No, make that, tickets. Two tickets, in fact. Not only that, but he had purchased access for all four days and tickets to every single paid event. Except for today, the majority of our meetings didn’t take place until after 2:00 p.m. each day, meaning I could attend almost all the different events.

I glanced around the breakfast nook, feeling dazed by the surprise and pleasure of the gift.

Why would he do that? Had I really geeked out so much yesterday afternoon? I couldn’t remember saying more than one sentence about how much fun Claire and Heath would have.

I had dreamed of attending an anime con but had never had the funds for tickets, hotels, and everything else during these last five years of supporting myself. Before that, I’d been at my mother’s mercy. It had been particularly crushing when I’d been a teen and the way my mother had lectured me about what a waste one of these conventions would be, her tone rife with disapproval still rang in my ears. To a sixteen-year-old in the height of my fandom obsessions, it had been a major blow.

My eyes misted at the thought of that stinging rejection. Why did my mother always have to invade my thoughts when something amazing happened? Why couldn’t I just hold the joy of the moment without those shadow memories popping up?

I had to consciously remind myself that my mother wasn’t here and didn’t get a say. Her values were not my values.

The roller coaster of emotions I felt was compounded by Aiden being the one to give me something I’d always wanted. I couldn’t afford to lower my defenses around him. I’d only end up hurt.

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