Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Really?” Jo doesn’t sound like herself. I can only imagine that balancing her work with the foundation while being a new mom could be taking its toll.
“Yeah. How’s Cam and the kids?”
“Amazing, really.” Jo’s voice noticeably softens when she talks about her husband and their children, a young girl they adopted from Haiti and the son Jo had a few months ago.
“Glad to hear it.” I walk over to the wall comprised mostly of windows, affording me an unobstructed view of the narrow Soho street below my office. “Oh! I wanted to tell you about an idea I had for next month’s benefit.”
“Sofie, about that…”
“So there’s this amazing floral designer who’s working with my new lifestyle website, Haven.”
“Sof.”
“I was thinking we could get her to design these one-of-a-kind centerpieces for the tables. She’s brilliant, I promise. And I could donate those. It would be great exposure for her, too, of course.”
“That’s…well, that’s very generous, Sofie, but I really need to talk about something before we go any further.”
“Sorry, Jo.” With my finger, I absently sketch an invisible heart on the windowpane, writing Trevor’s name in the center. “Shoot.”
“First, I just want to say I’m so sorry for what happened to you all those years ago, for what Kyle Manchester did to you.” Regret spills into the momentary silence Jo allows. “I wish you’d felt then like you could tell me or Aunt Kris. We would have helped you in any way we could. I hope you believe that.”
“I know, Jo.” My finger falls away from the window, and I turn to sit on the sill, back to the glass. “I just…I was all the way in New York. You were in North Carolina. We weren’t talking a lot by then. I didn’t tell anyone.”
I didn’t have anyone.
“I’m so, so sorry it happened,” Jo says. “I left you a voice mail last week. Not sure if you got it.”
“My voice mail is so full, I haven’t checked it in days. Sorry, and thank you for reaching out.”
“Of course. Cam and I are here for you however you need us. However you need me.”
“Thanks, Jo.” Gratitude swells my throat. “That means a lot.”
“I wanted you to know how much I personally support you before I tell you what I need to tell you. I don’t really know how to handle this except to just say it, Sofie. The board met today.”
I clutch the phone a little tighter, draping my arm across my chest to grip my elbow with my free hand.
“I see,” I say quietly, foreboding hushing my voice. “And?”
“It was an impromptu meeting, called at the last minute,” Jo rushes on to say. “They voted to suspend your responsibilities as celebrity ambassador to the Walsh Foundation.”
The words pound my heart like a hundred mallets beating away until it is bloody and tender in my chest.
“Daddy and I, of course, voted for you,” Jo says. “And Walsh would have. I know they pushed the meeting because they knew it would be hard for Walsh to adjust his schedule at such short notice. By the time he called in, they had a quorum and the vote had passed.”
“I see.” I can’t find other words.
“It’s not that they don’t believe you,” Jo says, her voice tight and anxious. “They said that all the media attention and the coverage distracts from our mission, and that the benefit would become about all of that, and not our goals and objectives for the night.”
“So they’d also prefer that I not attend next month?” It’s not a physical blow, but I feel it like a kick in the stomach.
“Sofie, you can come, if you like, of course.” Jo says. “But not in the official capacity of celebrity ambassador. None of the photo ops or interviews you’d usually do representing us.”
I want to stomp my feet and throw myself flailing to the floor and scream that it’s not fair. That I wanted to do something good, for once, by exposing Kyle, and all it’s done is complicate and destroy things.
“I understand, Jo.” I shove the hot lump of emotion back down my throat so I can get this out. “They’re right, actually. I can’t even work out at six in the morning without a press corps showing up. I believe in the foundation’s mission too much to detract from it. I mean that, Jo.”
This hurts like a motherfucker, but I mean it.
“Aunt Kris is probably turning over in her grave right now that we are making things harder for someone we should be protecting.” Jo’s voice goes watery. “I just…I’m so disappointed in them, Sofie. I’m so disappointed in myself for not finding a way to stop this.”
“No, Jo, really.” I straighten from the windowsill and walk over to my desk, collapsing into my chair. “I knew going into this it would be tough.”