22. Boss’s Orders

22

BOSS’S ORDERS

EVANGELINE

“ T he shit has hit the fan now!”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” I question.

“You were all over the news,” Cleo says. “You’re famous. I’m talking to a famous person right now.”

“I haven’t looked,” I admit. “And I am not famous.”

“What do you mean you haven’t looked? Not even a peek, a Google search of your name?” she asks, shocked.

“It’s just best I don’t know what they’re saying. Angie’s been filtering through the news and only relaying anything on a need-to-know basis,” I explain.

“Angie? The one that was after your husband?” I can almost see the roll of her eyes and the purse of her lips as she says it.

“She wasn’t after…” I pinch my forehead. “Ok, that would be the one,”

“Hmm,” she says judgmentally into the phone. “You can’t trust a woman who flirts with a married man.”

I bark out a laugh, regretting that I even confided in her about it.

“What?”

“We literally slept with other women’s husbands for a living,” I point out with a hint of humor. “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust you?”

“That’s different. We got paid for it,” she reasons. “And you’re a respectable wife of a politician now.”

“I don’t know about respectable. Not after that press conference,” I shake my head and then there’s silence on the other line.

“Evan, you’re the best person I know.”

“Well, tell that to the ladies on the board,” I say as we pull up in front of the office building.

“If they don’t know that already, hun, then they don’t know you at all,” Cleo confirms.

“I gotta go.” I smile and hang up the phone just as Bailey parks the car.

He opens the door for me and then starts to follow me inside. “I don’t need a bodyguard, or whatever this is,” I tell him with an annoyed tone.

“Boss’s orders,” Bailey explains, holding the door open for me.

“Do you always do what Darren says?”

“If I wanna keep my job,” he says with all seriousness.

“I just don’t think it’s necessary,” I huff, punching the button for the elevator. “I’m not the one running for office.”

“Mr. Walker thinks it is.” Bailey stands behind me in the elevator, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Do people really hate me that much?” I ask with a slight laugh, but inside I’m anything but laughing. Darren and I agreed not to look at the news or social media. It’s better for my mental health, but if Darren insists on Bailey coming with me then I’m assuming things are not good. With the election several months away, I can only hope I haven’t done irreparable damage.

I give Bailey a look that says he’s not welcome inside, so he concedes and stands outside the door while I enter the boardroom.

The chatter in the room dies down to a whisper. I get excited when I see Rebecca at the back of the room, but she resumes her conversation with one of the other members. The only friendly face is Bethany’s as she gives me a sympathetic smile. I take a seat next to her and set my purse on the table.

“I didn’t have time to tell you beforehand or I would have,” I explain. “I hope this isn’t an issue for the foundation.”

“Some of the funding has already been pulled,” she explains, and my face falls.

“I wasn’t prepared for how it would impact the charity,” I admit. “I’m sorry. I hope this doesn’t ruin the charity gala we have planned.”

“It’s still a few weeks off so I wouldn’t worry. Reporters have been calling to get a statement,” she replies.

“Oh,” is all I can muster.

Bethany notices me looking at Rebecca. She stands, pulling me with her outside the room.

Bailey steps aside and Bethany looks at him, startled.

“Have you received threats?” She walks across the hall to a breakroom—Bailey close behind.

“Darren thought it would be wise.”

She grabs two cups, fills them with coffee and hands one to me. Leaning against the counter she looks at me thoughtfully.

“I watched the press conference,” she states, and I look at her with a weary expression. I can only imagine what she thinks of me. “So that’s how you and Darren really met. Sounds like Darren,” she laughs and then looks at me thoughtfully. “He’s really turned things around and no doubt it’s because of you.”

“I really am sorry about the funding. I had no idea,” I apologize.

Bethany lets out a breath. “If those donors can’t be sympathetic then they don’t understand the mission of the Abigail Pershing Foundation.”

I smile, holding the cup of coffee in my hand. “I’m glad to know you feel that way.”

“I’m very impressed with how far you’ve come. I was very close with my grandmother too,” she adds. “The way you talked about her was very moving. She must have been very proud of you.”

“She didn’t know I paid for her care with the money I earned as an escort. She thought I had a journalism degree and was working for a paper.”

“I was talking about how proud she must have been of your character. You have a big heart and a lot of drive, especially for someone so young. It’s too bad she won’t be here to witness who you will become,” Bethany explains, placing a gentle hand on my arm and giving it a motherly squeeze.

“I just did what I had to do.”

“Don’t ever downplay the hard choices you’ve had to make. It’s made you who you are,” Bethany says.

“I haven’t had a chance to talk to Audrina,” I say.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She gives me a wink. “Audrina might be a tough cookie, but she has a soft spot for Darren. If you make him happy, that’s all that matters.”

We go back into the conference room, and I call the meeting to order. The agenda is light since the venue has been booked but there are still a few spots open for auction items.

“I was thinking we need something really big to draw in a lot of money,” I ponder out loud.

“What about an experience?” Rebecca looks tired, as if she’d forgotten to put on makeup.

“I like that idea. We just need to come up with some places or people to contact,” I offer.

“What if we appeal to the parents who want their kids to get into a good college?” Bethany interjects and I tilt my head at her, interested. “College coaches cost a lot of money. If we knew someone who’d be willing to offer that as a donation…” she trails off.

“That’s promising,” I smile.

“What about Darren? He went to Georgetown. He’s a legacy. Surely, he has some advice to impart?” Bethany inquires, a hopeful expression on her face.

“Oh, I can ask him,” I reply.

Bethany laughs. “You could voluntell him.”

It takes me a minute to get her meaning and smile. I write that down on the list but that gets me thinking.

“What if we get someone famous to offer a lunch date?” I propose.

“Who?”

With all the partying Alistair does, I wonder if he knows anyone. “I’ll ask around, figure something out.” I make a note to reach out to Alistair.

“You are resourceful,” she says, and I’m not sure if it’s a friendly comment or not. I shake it off hoping that when the meeting is over, I’ll get a chance to talk to her.

“Ok well, if we don’t have any other business, we’ll touch base in a couple weeks to finalize everything,” I close out the meeting and start packing up my things.

“Seriously, Darren would be great. He could even offer some kind of coaching for the Bar exam,” Bethany exclaims as she hoists her bag up her shoulder.

I feel bad because I’m not paying attention. I look in Rebecca’s direction so I can catch her before she leaves, but she’s already gone.