It’s not like I expected him to. He’s been skulking around, avoiding the house and barely staying here. I know he still sleeps here, because it’s not like he can afford to stay at a hotel and he doesn’t have other friends whose couch he can crash on.
At least, I don’t think he has other friends.
“Hey, Bouchard!” Ezio says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I tense and force myself to pay attention.
Ezio, River, and I are all gathered around the dining room table. Ezio has his laptop out, while I have my tablet with me. I’ve got it displaying the frat finances spreadsheet.
At least that was stored on the cloud and not on one of the drives Pandora stole.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “You were saying?”
“We ended up raising about two thousand dollars from the party,” Ezio says. “Which is peanuts.”
“But good PR,” I point out. “And what were we going to do, tell the Nyxies we didn’t want their help?”
Maybe that would have been better.
There wouldn’t have been a party for Pandora to sabotage.
“Yeah, it ended up being great PR,” River mutters.
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. It’ll blow over fast. Maybe one of the Anarchists or Hellions will start a gang war on campus and distract everybody.”
Ezio snorts in amusement. “Do they still do that? They used to have constant fights back when I was a student. You couldn’t go a week without somebody having a pointless pissing contest.”
River is watching Ezio, his expression surly. “Yeah? And how long has that been?”
“About ten years?” Ezio silently counts. “Yeah. They renovated the gym after I left, but it’s not so different. Shame about the frat house though. I made some good memories there.”
Guilt stabs through my chest, again.
Fuck. I need to get over it. That wasn’t my fault. That was Pandora, and she’s been well and truly punished for it.
“We’ll build a nicer house,” I say. “Insurance will cover some of the cost, and Dad’s already committed a hundred thousand to the rebuilding effort. We’ve got a few other donors lined up. And I think we’ve got a few alums in the construction business. We might be able to tap them for the build at reduced cost.”
“It’ll just be a matter of reaching out to them.” Ezio types on his laptop. “Fundraising letters and shmoozing. The best part of the job.”
I grin at him. “Of course. Why else would you join a frat if not to network like this?” I glance at River. “Do you know anyone who might be able to donate? Maybe your parents?”
“No.”
I wait for him to continue, then realize he has no intention of elaborating.
I know from his background information that he really did work for the Pavone family and that his father still does. I don’t know what position he holds in that organization or how much money he makes.
Not enough to donate to the rebuilding effort, apparently.
“Okay. So we’ve got the Bouchards, the Kingsfords, the Prestons...” Ezio taps on his keyboard some more. “What about the Delgado family? I think Mr. Delgado is a tech guru. He can donate.”
I freeze at the name. Franklin’s parents. They’d have the assets to help cover the reconstruction, but…
“They’re not going to help,” River snaps. “Not when this frat is responsible for their son’s death.”
For once, I don’t disagree with River.
“Yeah. It’s a bad idea to approach them. Especially right now.” I grimace and glance down at my spreadsheet. “We should probably remove them from all the donor lists.”
