Page 96 of Ice Princess

“We heard what you did at the trailer park and for the school,” Cecilia explains.

Marjorie takes over. “The entire town is buzzing about what you, I mean, whatwe,” she gestures to herself and Rosalie who nods enthusiastically, “did for the less fortunate.”

I fold my arms over my chest.

“I just got a call from a very wealthy businessman who offered to set up a meeting with five of his business colleagues. They want the Lady Luck Society to help evenmoreof the folks onthatside of town.”

“He was very specific that it be forthatside,” Rosalie jumps in, bobbing her head.

“And since you’re the expert on those types of neighborhoods…” Marjorie flaps her eyelashes.

Translation: Since they prefer to avoid actual people in poverty…

“… we thought you’d be the perfect candidate to meet with the donor and present a plan of action.” Marjorie’s grin turns strict. “Under the umbrella of the Lady Luck Society of course.”

Translation: you do the hard work, but we want the credit.

I frown. “Is this how you usually discuss matters in the Society?” I arch a brow. “Haphazard meetings outside of the hospital room of the chairwoman?”

Cecilia’s face reddens.

Marjorie glances away. “Consider it your last… test. If nothing goes wrong, we’ll support you one hundred percent. Carol will have to acknowledge you.”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “But if somethingdoesgo wrong, you can say that I was never an official member of the Lady Luck Society and I did everything on my own.”

Marjorie clears her throat. “What could possibly go wrong? It’s a simple community outreach project. Very similar to what you did today.”

I hesitate to agree. Marjorie White has her own agenda and I doubt she has any intentions of helping me. However, Idowant to join the Lady Luck Society and Idowant to help more communities like mine.

Two birds, one stone.

Isn’t it worth the risk?

Just then, the door to Carol Kinsey’s hospital room opens and Gunner comes sprinting out. His pale blue eyes land on the women in the corridor and jerk around until they find me. His shoulders slump in relief but, a moment later, his face pales and he stumbles backward.

I rush to him, slipping an arm around his waist. “Gunner, are you okay?”

He nods faintly, sweat populating on his forehead and neck.

“Son, you look like you need a hospital cot of your own,” Marjorie White says worriedly.

Rosalie returns, balancing a cup of coffee. “Here, Rebel.”

I take the coffee from Rosalie and offer it to Gunner. “Drink this. It’ll wake you up.”

Gunner shakes his head.

Seeing that he’s being stubborn, I blindly hand the cup back to Rosalie whose smile drips into a frown before she fixes her expression.

“Let me drive you home,” Gunner whispers weakly to me. “It’s been a long day.”

There’s no way I’ll let him get behind the wheel of a car in this state.

I steer Gunner down the hallway. “I think I saw a bench somewhere. You need to sit down.”

Gunner doesn’t argue. Not that he’s the argumentative type anyway, but…

“Rebel, consider our offer and get back to me ASAP!” Marjorie calls. Her voice bounces against the walls of the hospital hallway.

---