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“I’ll tell you a secret. Death is sad only for those who are left behind.” He winks at me like an utter flirt.
“I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier on any of us.” I squeeze his hand, then point at him. “You better be here this weekend.”
“I came here to die, woman. Let me succeed for God’s sake.” Another coughing attack cuts his laughter short.
Fucking Ralph. I wish I had an ounce of his dignity and perspective.
“May I have a word, London?” Zelda, the manager, asks as she stops me in the hallway.
I check my watch. My meeting with van den Linden is in an hour. “Okay, what’s up?”
“We received a letter last week.” She moves behind the reception desk and opens a drawer. Zelda is one of those people who is always cheerful.
Where I retort with anger, she normally fights the gloomy emotions of this place with a smile. Today, her warm brown face is ridden with lines of concern.
She hands me an envelope and I yank the paper out of it, almost ripping it in two. As I scan the words, my stomach and the muscles of my neck tighten. If I grind my teeth any tighter, I might lose all my enamel. Goddammit.
“What are we going to do?” It’s Zelda who speaks, but I’m aware of several sets of eyes on me. In the moment it took me to read the letter, half of the staff have gathered around.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to my lawyer. I doubt we can stop them, but we’ll try.”
“The construction could go on for months, a year even. We can’t operate under such noise and disturbance. We strive for dignity and peace here—”
“I know that,” I snarl. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I shove the letter into my purse and march out of there, leaving them standing behind.
Goddammit.
When I bought the building this neighborhood was underprivileged, but I knew it wouldn’t stay like that for too long. Three years later, here we are. A developer has bought several properties around us and plans to tear them down to build condos and a shopping center.
I should have known Felicia Warren, the developer, didn’t buy two tables at my gala solely out of the goodness of her heart. I’ve never minded that people use the foundation’s biggest annual charity event to network and conduct business, but in this case I have not one, not two, but a fucking myriad of objections.
On instinct, I almost call Felicia to tell her we’re sold out, but while I operate in the nonprofit area, I apply my business acumen and I know that such a move would achieve nothing. Keep your enemies closer and all that.
My phone vibrates as I climb into my car. The car with a driver is a luxury I allow myself in order to get work done while in transit. I don’t use it often anyway and I pay for it from my money, never from the foundation’s budget.
“What is it, Ashley?”
“Where are you? Mr. van den Linden called to cancel. He said he’d be in touch to reschedule.” The keyboard clicks in the background and I can picture Ashley typing away with the phone on the speaker.
Fucking Finn. He didn’t even have the guts to call me directly. “Okay, I’m coming to the office. Can you schedule time with one of the volunteer lawyers for me as soon as possible? We have an issue.”
Irritation bubbled deeper inside me over the next hour as we fought traffic heading toward Midtown. My dad didn’t answer his phone, nor did Bianca, Finn, or my sisters, so I was left to stew in the back seat. I tried to review a few documents, but my mind has been running a mile a minute in many directions.
I need to slow down and find some time to unwind. Between the upcoming gala, lack of support for the new research project, concerns over my parents’ health and the construction around the hospice, I might just explode.
I march into my office, ready to rule, but Ashley’s face nearly stops me in my tracks.
“What happened?” I bark.
Eddie, my second assistant, and two interns jump and scatter away while Ashley faces me. And not with her usual determined, unperturbed countenance. Despite her five feet four frame, she generally commands a room with confidence.
With her German father and Japanese mother, she grew up with discipline, loyalty and respect, but she is no push-over. Her salary is way above market, and she is worth every single cent.
She’s been with me for five years and we understand each other without words. Which means whatever she is about to share is going to make my shitty day thus far look like a vacation.
“Larissa called…”
