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She looks at me quizzically. “What did you say?”
“About being interested in your ideas for the foundation,” I remind her with a smile.
Some of the tension eases, and she smiles back at me. “Really?” She raises an eyebrow. “You aren’t just saying that?”
I shoot her a look. “You think I got where I am today by giving people false praise?”
She laughs.
The waiter politely interrupts our conversation to take our meal orders and then disappears.
“I like your idea about an art show,” I continue. “Tell me more about that.”
She seems slightly hesitant, like she still thinks I’m only feigning interest to be polite, but she answers anyway. “I think it could be an excellent way to raise money for the foundation. And that’s what you guys are worried about, right? The funds?”
I shrug. “It’s a minor concern. Mainly we want to make sure the money is being well spent and that it’s not a waste of money. But fundraising is something the foundation seems to be struggling with, from the records I’ve seen.”
“We are,” Lilly admits. “The things we’re doing now just aren’t working. And the kids we help don’t come from families who can give donations or anything like that—which we don’t expect at all, but obviously that makes it hard to run the foundation.”
I nod.
“But think about how cool an art show could be.” Her eyes light up a bit at this, and she leans forward, propping her elbows on the table. “We could display art the kids have created, or maybe showcase a specific artist—like the high school kids we award scholarships to every year. We could auction off a few pieces, have wine and food provided, turn it into a whole event that people can buy tickets for.”
I’m nodding along, listening more closely than I had at the wedding. Just like I’d thought last time, this is a pretty good idea. “And you mentioned that my brothers and I could dip into our more affluent list of contacts for attendance,” I remind her.
She grins, shrugging. “Why not? It’s your mother’s foundation, after all. It’s meaningful. And isn’t that what rich socialites love? Attending meaningful events?”
I smirk. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” she says playfully, taking a sip of her wine.
I chuckle. “I’ll try to remember that.”
Our food arrives shortly, and we dig in. After a few bites, I say, “I really like this idea, Lilly. I really do.”
She meets my gaze, hesitant hope in her eyes.
“Let’s make this happen. You and me.”
Chapter 13
Lilly
When we finish dinner, we get into Aiden’s car, heading back toward the foundation. But when Aiden pulls out into the road, traffic eastward looks like a nightmare. A line of red taillights shows cars backed up for seemingly miles.
He huffs in mild frustration. “Traffic here is so unpredictable.”
I nod, staring out the window. “You know, my place isn’t far from here. You could just drop me off at home, and I can get an Uber to work in the morning,” I suggest.
He glances over at me. “You sure?”
I nod.
He manages to pull off onto a side road and turn around, and I tell him which direction to head in.
“And don’t worry about calling your own Uber in the morning, I’ll set one up for you,” he says offhandedly.
I chuckle in surprise. “You don’t have to do that,” I protest.
