Page 71 of Collateral Damage
Besides that, they’re the ones airing the show.
His lips press together briefly as he tilts his head. “As we both know, King is rebuilding their reputations after the events of last summer. I’m sure they’re invested in making sure Top of the World doesn’t embarrass them further.”
My mood instantly sours. “Which means we’ll make sure everything is done well.”
I hate that my boss is grilling me, but I’m not scared of him. This show is going to be huge. I can feel it in my bones.
“Okay, good. How are things moving along with the foundation work?”
Just thinking about the foundation excites me and I sit up taller. “We’re on track with the planning for our gala scheduled the first Saturday in October, and I’ve got four meetings set up next month to fundraise for our causes.”
I slide a printout of my donor meeting schedule, pretty damned pleased with myself. I’ve landed huge prospects and am thrilled to tell them all about our partners. We work with some incredible nonprofits and are passionate about helping them grow. I can get my nonprofits in front of people they’d never get in front of otherwise.
“Looks to me like this disability nonprofit gets a lot of your attention,” he says, peering through his glasses at the sheet of paper. “That’s great, but Laurence International raises for a number of charities which appeases the interests of various shareholders.”
“Yes, you’re right, but?—”
“It can’t be all about you and your passions. I understand Chandler has inspired your disability work, but don’t forget about the Foundation as a whole.”
His words are like a slap to the face. I take a deep breath and carefully word my reply. “You’re right that I’m most passionate about the disability advocacy, but that doesn’t mean I’m not also passionate about our other nonprofit partners. We provide a great deal of funds and resources to our environmental protection organization, the local nonprofit for feeding the hungry and housing the homeless here in our city, and then we have the international organization that uplifts women and children in developing nations.”
And they’re all wonderful. Just because I’m not just as passionate about them as I am about disability advocacy doesn’t mean they’re not all near and dear to my heart, nor does it mean The Laurence Foundation neglects anybody.
He gives me a long, steady look, and I swear he’s disappointed. My entire body tenses. Honestly? It pisses me off.
“I already know who we support. I’m telling you to make sure you’re following through on all fronts. I want to see a schedule that reflects that.”
My cheeks burn. “Oh, of course, let me explain what you’re looking at there.” I motion to the paper in his hands. “While the foundation supports all four charities year-round, we take quarters to direct focus on one of our nonprofit partners one at a time. Quarter three is for the disabled children. Quarter one is environmental protections.” He should know, that’s the one Laurence pours the most money into. “Quarter two is for uplifting women and children across the globe. And quarter four is about feeding the hungry and housing the homeless right here in our city, which goes over great around the holidays.”
Take that!
“Hmm…very well, but we may want to rethink that down the road. Did you hire an assistant like I told you to?”
I can’t seem to win one today. “I thought that was more of a suggestion.”
He shakes his head, a line forming between his graying eyebrows. “Consider it a mandate. You have a lot on your plate. I only want to see you succeed. I’m sorry if I sound like I’m being rough on you, but it’s my job to push you to your fullest potential.”
Vale is looking at me like he expects no argument. Hiring someone sounds like tedious work, let alone training them, but I might not have a choice.
“I’ll get on that. Anything else?”
He studies at me for a beat. “Are you going to Nantucket this summer?”
My emotions immediately spiral. I haven’t been to Nantucket since Dad died.
I shake my head. “As you’ve said, it’s a busy summer for me. I don’t have time.”
His face softens. “The anniversary of your father’s death is coming up. Do you have someone to talk to? Mental healthcounseling? We can get you set up if you need help. Or you can always talk to me.”
My spine turns to steel, and I can’t move, can hardly even breathe. Vale is not someone I want to be talking to about my father’s horrible death. I don’t care if I’ve known Vale for years or that he was close to my dad. It’s not like he’s close to me. We’re not friends; we were coworkers, and now he’s my boss. That’s all.
“I’ve got it handled.”
“It was a terrible tragedy. We’re all sad he’s gone. If I could bring him back, I would. Sometimes I hate that I’m sitting here instead of him.”
Does he, though?
The words fall flat, but that’s probably because I can’t handle this conversation.
