Page 9 of Axe Backwards
He continued his perusal of the prospectus, casually flipping through the pages.
All my data, costs, and projections were laid out.
And this man was barely glancing at any of it.
“You know,” he said. “My son would be the perfect person to help you with this. Give you some great ideas for improvement.”
His son? I almost vomited in my mouth.
“Give me one second.” He held up an elegant finger and picked up his phone.
Dammit. I didn’t need “help” or “ideas” with the food pantry. I needed money. Donations, philanthropy, call it what you want. I was good at this. I attended national calls and trainings. I put in the work to do my best. And we were pushing every single day to help every person in need. I needed money, time, and the ability to clone myself to get all the work done. Not a meeting with failson Denis Huxley.
I shifted uncomfortably. The last thing I wanted was the Huxleys to mansplain nonprofit management to me.
When Denis entered the room, I stood and forced a smile. If I made all this sound mundane, was it possible they would cut me a check and leave me to it?
“Victoria,” he said, taking my outstretched hand and pulling me into a hug. I was not a hugger. Physical contact with strangers and even acquaintances was one of the things I avoided most in life. The way my body stiffened didn’t deter him, though.
Denis Huxley was the worst. As a kid, he was a little shit, and from what I could tell, not much had changed.
Charles urged us both to sit, and while he talked, I pretended to take notes, hoping I could extract myself sooner rather than later.
When Denis put his hand on my shoulder, it took all my willpower not to shrug him off. “I think Victoria and I could work well together, Dad.” He beamed at me. “Establish a true partnership.”
I had to contain my revulsion. Instead, I mentally recited statistics, reminding myself of all the good we could do.
I would not fail. I could not fail.
The community needed me.
“Yes.” My tone was a little too bright, but it was the best I could do. “Though there isn’t much to partner on. We’re looking for sustained philanthropic commitments. If you look at page ten, there is a list of fundraisers we’re considering. We’d love to have the Huxley name on board as a sponsor.”
The men gave me identical noncommittal nods. Clearly Charles had worked hard to groom Denis.
This meeting would go one of two ways. Either they’d be willing to donate and tell me now, or they wouldn’t. They’d give me the “this is outside the scope of our giving this year” spiel. Or the “we’re focusing our charitable portfolio on animal issues this year.”
I could usually tell whether I’d walk out with a check within the first few minutes.
But these guys were stringing me along. Batting me around like a cat with a mouse.
Frustrated but holding it in, I stood. “I’ve already taken up so much of your time.” With a fake smile in place once more, I lifted my chin. “Let’s put a follow-up on our calendars.”
“No need,” Denis said. “You and I can meet personally. I’ll work up a proposal for you.”
Brow raised, I scrutinized him. Proposal? Shit. What I was asking for was fairly straightforward, but I’d heard the rumors. Apparently they were true. When it came to the Huxleys, things were never straightforward.
“Of course,” I said, backing out of the office. “And thanks again.”
Chapter 4
Noah
Tess was the best baby. Maybe I didn’t have any basis for comparison, but in my bones, I knew she was exceptional.
But no one was perfect, and she had one teeny-tiny flaw.
She wanted to be held all the time.
