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So yeah, I was definitely losing my mind, because there was no way he’d want to spend more time with me than he had to.
We’d barely finished introductions at our table before I wished I could run back to the empty seat beside Cassidy. Or better yet, drag her over here. The company was awful, but it didn’t include Dr. Donaldson.
If I’d forgotten why I’d chosen to go to school and get a real job despite my parents’ objections—and I hadn’t—five minutes at my gala table were more than enough to remind me why I wasn’t planning any trips home in the foreseeable future. Ellie, however, was sweet to these people though they were barely civil to her.
Across the table from us, Godric Morton looked up from examining his nails, as if he’d learned how to be rich from watchingGilligan’s Island, and turned to his date. “Remind me, Tiffany, who are you wearing?”
The too-perfect blonde next to him smiled, but it felt faker than her hair color. “My dress is bespoke, by a new designer I wanted to support. She’s going to be a major name in the industry very soon.”
Jake’s date, Jolene, wasn’t even trying to hide her cattiness—she and my mother would have gotten along. Or, you know,not. “Do you mean your cousin?” she sneered.
“Yes.” Tiffany’s smile grew broader and more real, and I mentally moved her out of the category with my mom. “She’s amazingly talented.” She glanced down at her dress with a nonchalant little shrug as if to saysee what I mean?
“It’s gorgeous!” Ellie proclaimed.
The iridescent turquoise/purple silk gown did have a flattering cut, hard to manage with one-shoulder dresses. “Yes, very nice,” I said. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for her in the future.”
Tiffany beamed unreservedly, then caught herself and leaned into Godric, who was still indifferent. “She hasn’t done any menswear yet, but I’m sure she’d love the opportunity, if you’re interested.” She glanced at Jake and me. “Any of you. And always you, Ellie.”
“What’s her name?” Ellie asked.
“Victoria Rutherford.” Tiffany pulled a business card from her handbag and slid it across the table. “Tell her I sent you!” She handed out cards all around the table; Godric used his to clean his nails.
I glanced back at the table where Cassidy laughed with a resident. Her dress wasn’t designer or custom, she’d done her own hair and makeup, and she hadn’t bought her ticket—apparently Dr. Okafor hadn’t been trying to drum up funds.
It was a good cause, and I didn’t mind the donation—though now that I thought of it, the donation was probably more than whatever salary they paid me. (I probably should have paid attention to these things, but instead I paid Alex.)
I definitely wished I’d taken that free ticket now if it meant I’d be at the table with Cassidy.
“Apparently I should have asked for an introduction,” Ellie teased me under her breath. “Or do you need to go do more ‘work’?”
I turned back to the table and added extra reassurance to my voice. “No, no, I’m here with you.”
“So howisyour brother?” Godric asked, as if they’d all been holding back on that one question since the moment they’d heard my surname.
“I wouldn’t know, but I’m sure there’s a tabloid that does.” I rose halfway, raising my eyebrows and pointing as if offering to run down the street and pick one up at Wawa.
Godric smirked. Tiffany, her chin in her hand to bring her as close as possible to Godric, shot me a sympathetic look. Apologizing for her boyfriend, maybe.
The speaker paused in the middle of his droning on in thanking the generous donors and touting the record-breaking total they’d raised. I looked to the stage and hoped that would end the conversation about Everett.
“In fact,” the speaker continued, “we had to create a new tier to sufficiently recognize the generosity of these donors. So we’d like to personally thank our first-ever Platinum Donor.”
The split-second realization was all the notice I got before he finished: “Davis Hardcastle.”
I hadn’t donated for recognition, but that didn’t stop an actual spotlight from swinging to our table. “Up, up, Mr. Hardcastle.”
I obliged, offering the smallest bow to the stage. The speaker wasn’t satisfied. “No, no, come on up.”
I finally recognized him: the hospital’s CEO. My boss’s boss’s boss. Not someone I wanted to publicly defy.
Fine. I crossed the convention center ballroom to the stairs to the tiny stage. I didn’t mind terribly, but I certainly hoped they didn’t treat all their donors like this, or people wouldn’t give again.
“Would you favor us?” The CEO gestured at the microphone.
What did he want me to do, sing? Ha. I stepped up and did my best off the cuff. “I’m excited to be part of the Beaufort community, and for all the good this donation will do here, in Philadelphia.” I couldn’t see the audience with the stage lights in my eyes, but I tried to look in the direction I thought Cassidy’s table was. “And the good that Beaufort’s research can do for the world.”
Good enough. I gave a final nod of acknowledgement and moved back from the podium. The CEO took hold of my elbow before he stepped up to the microphone again. “Mr. Hardcastle is one of our newest administrators in our Division of Urban Health, and his donation inspired several other Platinum Donors we’d like to recognize: Donna Hardcastle.” Yay, Mom. “Hugh Gooding.” One person in the audience clapped excitedly, probably Ellie. “And one final, very special donor who wanted to present her gift in person. Together, these donors gave more than a million dollars to fund our hospital improvements and research facilities!”
