Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“You didn’t think I’d tell the world about you?”
He pulled away but couldn’t look me in the eye. A soft blush was painting his cheeks. “Well, I mean…not right away. It can sometimes take a while for people to feel comfortable telling others they’re in a non-hetero relationship.”
“True. But telling my boss wasn’t much of a risk. Emily is a lesbian, and she’s not exactly quiet about it. What was one more person on her staff?”
Rome lifted his eyes to me, his happiness undimmed. “Okay, but I’m still so proud of you. But this donation…”
I shook my head. “She sees me dating you as a good thing. Like you’d write a check whenever your boyfriend needed a bit of money. It felt so 1950s, where the husband writes a check to support the little woman’s silly hobbies, which is demeaning to both of us. You’re not some fucking piggy bank everyone can steal from!”
A wild array of emotions crossed Rome’s face, ranging from joy to rage to finally sadness. After a moment, he leaned in and lightly kissed my cheek. “Wait right here.”
He jogged out of the kitchen and down the hall. While he was gone, I took a sip of his water and frowned at the cheese. Despite all the wonderfulness we’d enjoyed in bed not that long ago, I was now back to feeling miserable and unsure of myself.
When Rome returned, he had a business card in his hand, which was not what I’d expected. He slid onto the stool next to mine and turned to face me.
“This is my fault,” Rome started.
“What? No!” I gasped. “There is no way any of this is your fault!”
“It is. I shouldn’t have cooked up this stupid arrangement idea to get even with you. I thought I was being crafty and getting revenge, but I’ve made you suffer in ways that I hadn’t anticipated, and I am so very sorry.”
His words were sweet, but he was wrong. I was already shaking my head, even as he set the card on the marble counter next to me. It was a plain cream-colored card that looked like it had been printed on expensive card stock. Very simply, it said:
Shonna McCoy
Chief Executive Officer, Ashbridge Charitable Foundation
Below that was an email address and a phone number.
“I don’t understand,” I stated, lifting my gaze from the card to Rome.
“When I graduated college, I got access to the trust fund my parents and grandparents had set up for me. It was a stupid amount of money. Far more than any twenty-one-year-old had a right to access. I always knew I had zero interest in running the family business.”
“You said Sydney wanted to do that,” I chimed in, mentioning the cousin I barely remembered ever seeing as kids.
“Yep. But I also didn’t want to waste the money, so my first task was hiring an investment team to manage the money. But my dad was the one to sit me down and hand me a card like this. He told me that the best thing I could do for myself was to hire a Shonna.”
“I don’t understand.”
His expression turned a bit embarrassed. “You know me. I’m not the brightest glow stick in the pack. Someone comes up to me with a ‘good cause,’ and I immediately want to hand them money. Half the time, you can’t tell if you’re being scammed until it’s too late. I created a charitable foundation and put more than half of my money into it. Then I hired Shonna to manage it. The biggest part of her job is to say no.”
A giggle escaped me. “You’re shitting me.”
Rome didn’t smile or laugh. “My foundation gives out close to a billion dollars a year to hundreds of charities—big and tiny—but there are still more out there that need help. It’s her job to sift through all of them and divvy up the money. It’s her job to say no because I’m really fucking bad at it. She’s so fucking good at spotting the scams and the ones that are shitty about spreading the money to those who need it. There are too many assholes out there who run charities but keep the bulk of the money for themselves.” He sucked in a deep breath and released it in a rush. “At the first mention of a donation, what I should have done was hand you Shonna’s card. It’s what I do whenever anyone asks for a donation.”
My eyes drifted to the card. I got it now. If he would have handed me the card, I would have passed it along to my boss. She would have contacted Shonna and gone through all the right channels to secure a donation for the department.
Except if Rome had given me the card, would I be sitting here right now? His silly plan had forced us to talk, to work out our past, and eventually opened my eyes to my own repressed sexuality.