Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
“Destiny, I saw the email,” he says. “How you holding up?”
Deep breath.
I so don’t need this today. But I also don’t want to be rude to one of the few people here who’s still trying to act human.
“Fine. About as well as you’d expect.”
“If you need anything, just shout,” he tells me.
God.
You know what I really need?
I need to stop feeling like I made Shepherd’s life worse.
I need to stop knowing that the world is always judging him for what they think he is, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I need people to know that yes, we broke every official rule when we did what we did. And then I need them to put a freaking sock in it and stop judging so much.
Through the glass windows, I can see how they glance around, their smiles cruelly curious.
Whatever.
People with dull lives thrive on whispers.
It’s just, the scandal is me.
I’m a real person, with feelings, and every little whisper or sideways glance feels like another stab of the knife.
Online, you can ignore it by turning off your phone, blocking messages, swiping away the haters.
It still sticks, but it’s not like this.
Here, I’m a fish in a bowl, and it takes guts to try to get some work done.
So that’s what I do.
For the next few hours I bury my head in the project, looking over slides, data, testimonials. I whip my presentation into the best shape I can.
Then I gather up my things as Mark gives me a wide smile. “Good luck! Bet you’ll kill it. I couldn’t help noticing how polished it looks.”
“Thanks, Mark.”
Amazingly, I’m not annoyed with him today.
Carol also stops by outside the glass, tapping until I look up and see her offering a smile and a thumbs-up.
She doesn’t know the exact details about what I’m presenting, but when I outlined the concept, she was totally encouraging. She loves to see the tech she helped bring to life used for good causes.
With any luck, their well wishes will rub off, and the bigger picture will win out.
This cause is so much bigger than me or Shepherd Foster and one dumb scandal.
Because we’ve got a whole mess of otters to save and time keeps slipping through our fingers like sand.
I’m waiting outside the conference room when my phone buzzes and turns me into a little lump of dread.
Daddykins flashes on the screen, something I knew was coming for days, as soon as he found out.
Do I even want to know?
No, not really.
But do I really want to put this off for later when I’m already a ball of nerves, waiting to find out how fast the board rolls its eyes at my proposal and spits it out?
Holding in a sigh, I swipe the green icon. “Dad, hi.”
“I’ll sue them all,” he snarls in perfect Cole Lancaster fashion. “Every last one of those pricks who thinks my daughter is dog chow for their damn amusement.”
“Hello to you, too. How’re Eliza and the kids?”
The loud squeal behind him tells me Nicole and Elijah are the same explosive little cherubs as always. I might be ancient to them, but I love my little siblings.
“Not relevant, honey. You know that. Destiny, you have to—”
“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 I will when 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.