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“You have to stop charging to my rescue,” I say firmly. “Look, I get it. I’m not exactly thrilled about what’s going around online, either, but Dad... it’s my problem. I can’t have you bailing me out.”
“I can and Iwillwhen protecting your reputation properly costs more than those distributions from the trust you barely touch,” he grumbles. “Dess, you can’t just let bullshit like this go. It takes on a life of its own. One day you think you’re dealing with a particularly ugly frog, the next, it’s a fire-breathing goddamned dragon.”
I snort. “You’re being too dramatic. It’s really not fun, sure, but it won’t kill me.”
For a moment, he’s silent.
“No. However, it might just permanently damage your ability to keep building up the brand you’ve worked yourself to the bone for. People are fickle, especially these professional charity types. Too many morals and not enough brains. Definitely no balls. One whiff of scandal, and they’ll drop you faster than a rotten apple. They won’t wait around to find out it isn’t true.”
I freeze, unable to speak around the boulder in my throat.
“It’s obviously not true, Dess,” he says slowly, waiting for an answer I can’t give. “Is it?”
“Dad, I have a huge presentation in like ten minutes. Can we talk about this later?”
“Goddammit, Dess. Did he touch you? I swear to God, if he lured you in with promises in exchange for—”
“Dad!” I’m shaking, gripping the phone so tight. “No, he didn’t force anything. We didn’t trade favors. It wasn’t like that at all and—and frankly, it’s none of your business.”
The silence between us is suffocating.
I almost want him to yell at me.
“You’re too damn smart for me to get up in your life,” he says quietly. “But Dess, you’d better put those brains to good use if you really want to get mixed up with Shepherd Foster. The man’s not what he seems. He’s—screw it. If you want to know, you know where to find me. Until then, I’ll let you decide.”
What the hell?
What is he even talking about?
I’m on the verge of tears, so ready to go full defiant brat on my father like I haven’t since I was seventeen and bored out of my skull with everything Wired Cup.
But before I can tell him to kindly fuck right out of my life, I see the flashing screen.
He’s disconnected the call, leaving the void between us.
And coming from Cole Lancaster, that’s the most grown-up courtesy you can imagine.
* * *
The presentation takesplace in a conference room that feels almost tropical.
I drain sips of water every few slides with the board’s haughty, overly professional eyes on me, slow-walking them through my idea.
And it’s a damn good concept, I’ll admit.
My research is solid and I know it. I’ve got stacks of evidence to back up my claims, and the personal experience we captured on the trail speaks volumes.
I even added the pictures from the weekend, boosting my arguments for the many ways this technology can revolutionize how wildlife organizations collect data on various species.
If this were one more college speech, I would’ve aced it.
But it’s not.
These five men and one woman watch me with slitted eyes the entire time.
Somehow, Iknowthey’re not looking at graphs and otters, even if they’re right there in front of their faces.
They’re seeing the other photos from that trip that were posted online.
