Page 79 of Sassy Love
“Oh yeah, and I guess you’re going to report me to HR?”
“You know that guy is useless,” she says and returns her focus to her screen.
“Hopeless, more like it,” I mutter and sit at my desk.
I’m one hundred percent sure she’s referring to me. Old wounds take ages to heal. And my being here must remind her every day of the worst day of her career. Hell, I only now just stopped thinking about it.
Nope, still think about it.
She was right when she said I was here to atone for something. I absolutely am. But her losing her job is only one of the wrongs I need to right in this world. I run through the semi-finalized plan for the next quarter and attend to my emails.
A discrepancy has been noted on the sponsorships and city funding—by Bob, of all people. Tempted to disregard his comment, I flip through the pages and come to the same conclusion.
Dammit.
I’ll need to double-check those numbers, maybe confirm with the respective departments that the figures are still correct.
I dial the city and speak to the community liaison first. She confirms the city’s budget as Serelle said. One confirmed, one to go.
Three large sponsors are responsible for half of the funds needed to run Serenity. Their generous donations of millions of dollars keep these doors open for the limited hours they are, during daylight hours.
I wonder what it would take to keep them open twenty-four seven?
I dial the first number and speak with a receptionist, who promises to put my request in writing to the finance department, who will get back to me by end of day.
Not ideal.
I dial the next company. I have my confirmation in under five minutes.
Great.
The last set of digits goes straight to an automated voice. “The number you have called is no longer connected.”
I check the number I dialed.
It’s correct.
I try again and get the same response. I google the company only to get a 404-error page. Well,that’snotgood. Running a finger over my screen, I search for their sponsorship percentage.
Eighty percent.
Our biggest sponsor.
Christ.
Chapter 20
CARLIE
Lawson is running his hands through his hair, muttering to himself. I would say it’s the pressure of the upcoming holiday in a few days, but we’ve had more important issues in the last month, and nothing’s had him this worked up.
His constant hushed monologue is doing my head in. I push from my chair and stalk to his desk. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I fold my arms over my chest and lean on his desk beside his chair as deep blues lined with worry flick up to me.
“We have a problem. A fucking big one.”
“What?” I push off the desk and turn so I can see his screen. He points out the name of one of the major sponsors for Serenity.
