McCarthy’s deep voice rumbles through the sound system.
“Thank you for that lovely introduction.” He winks at the foundation director. “Three weeks, five days, and”—he checks his watch—“five hours ago, I grabbed this worthless little worm on your board and threw him into a fountain.” He points at Joseph. “And that was widely regarded as a terrible move and made a number of people in this room really upset.”
There are murmurs in the crowd.
“I bet some of you think that I’m standing up here tonight, checkbook and hat in hand, to beg your forgiveness. To that? I say… Fuck. You.”
Gasps from the crowd. There are reporters from the society beats of the local newspapers. They didn’t expect this, and they have phones out recording while they salivate at the big story.
McCarthy slams a stack of papers onto the lectern, making the microphone screech.
“I was fucking right. Every single person here is a goddamn scammer, and I have the evidence to prove it. Rex Montague,” McCarthy bellows. “Do you want to tell these good people why a charity run by your girlfriend’s cat is raking in fifty thousand dollars a quarter from HopeWorks?”
“Jenna.” Rex pushes through the crowd, red-faced.
I make a strangled noise.
“You did this. It’s lies from her, all lies! You’re just mad,” the older man blusters, “because that slut you’re with told you stories about me. She came on to me first. She brought up the sex dungeon.”
“Because you can’t have a sex dungeon!” I scream at him.
“Well, well, so that answers the question as to what these payments were for. I do hope everyone was legal and sober. Something to look into.” McCarthy taps his chin. “Oh, and in case anyone here wants to know if Jenna’s the reason I’m blowing the lid off this bucket of shit, the answer is yes.”
I clap my hands to my face, feeling everyone stare at me.
“Jenna introduced me to her loser-of-the-year father, and he kindly handed me everything I needed.”
“No, I—”
“Jenna.” My father looks at me with such hatred.
Tears run down my face, mixing with the heavy makeup and burning my eyes.
“He gave me emails, bank records, memos.”
“I didn’t give him anything. He stole it! He stole it from me.”
“Don’t listen to him.” McCarthy smiles at the chairwoman of HopeWorks. “He’s got terrible judgment. After all, he hired Nathan, here, who abused Jenna and kidnapped her dog and now is sleeping with the wife of Lennie from OmniSoft. Guess you’re not going to count on those million-dollar donations anymore.”
Johanna shrieks, “You asshole!” She hits Nathan with her purse.
“Yes,” he says to Nathan’s new girlfriend. “If he cheats on her with you, pretty soon he’s going to cheat on you with someone else. Word to the wise…” McCarthy addresses several representatives from the big local tech firms in the room. “This is why RDC doesn’t invest in charities. Because none of it’s getting funneled to dog pop-up shops or whatever. It’s lining the pockets of these people.”
The big donors are nervously backing away to the door. The chairwoman of the board makes motions to the sound guy to cut off McCarthy.
“Don’t bother,” McCarthy tells her. “I’ve already paid him off. To the Prism CEO, obviously this goes without saying, but I will no longer need your services. If you’re steering people to the HopeWorks charity, that, to me, signals a severe lapse in professional judgment.”
The Prism CEO staggers.
“And if anyone wants it, I have all the evidence cataloged here. There are USBs in Jenna’s purse. She’ll hand them out.”
“There’s what?” I shriek, digging in the bag McCarthy had given me as people crowd around me. Inside in a pocket? USBs. “This motherfucker.”
I yank out the USBs and toss them on the floor for the reporters to scramble for.
I grab the hem of the dress that feels like hands clawing me, dragging me down. Outside, the air is damp and clammy against my bare skin. I clutch my middle, my carefully done hair falling in my face.
I don’t feel like me. I don’t feel like myself, like this body all done up in millions of dollars’ worth of jewelry and clothes is just a puppet, one I never really controlled.
