Читать книгу The Charm Offensive - Cari Webb Lynn - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

“WE NEED TO HURRY.” Ella pulled her hood over her braids and gripped Sophie’s elbow. “I don’t want to miss the bus.”

“It’s five blocks and the fog delayed the bus’s departure.” Sophie dipped her chin inside her jacket. The unusual chill never cut into Ella’s enthusiasm. But the drizzle edged under Sophie’s collar, and a shiver ran through her. “I remember when it took you over one thousand steps to walk to school.”

“There’s no time for counting today, Auntie.” Ella squeezed Sophie’s arm, the pressure matching the urgency in her tone. “We have to talk about keeping Stormy Cloud.”

“Stormy Cloud,” Sophie repeated.

“The tiny kitten that April told me is most likely deaf,” Ella said. “She’s soft like a summer cloud, but her purr makes her sound like a storm cloud. No one likes storm clouds, Auntie.”

“I do,” Sophie said. The same way she liked the city fog and its changing weather moods, except today, when she needed sun—bright, bold and encouraging.

“That’s why we need to keep her,” Ella said. “She’ll just be an inconvenience to another family.”

There was that word again. The chill settled deep into her bones as if it intended to become permanent. Sophie tugged Ella closer.

Ella plowed on. “Is Brad an animal rescuer?”

“No, he stumbled upon those kittens accidentally.”

“That’s too bad.” Ella frowned. “I wanted him to rescue another litter so he’d have to come back to the store.”

“You liked him?” Sophie asked. Ella’s answer mattered. She didn’t want it to matter. Brad Harrington had a temporary place in their lives. Still, the mention of Brad brought a welcome warmth inside her.

Ella nodded. “His voice is good like an extra glass of hot chocolate, but sticky, like the laughter is trapped in his throat and he just needs someone to free it.”

“What’s my voice like?” Sophie asked.

“You sound like a mom.”

Before Sophie could ask if that was good or bad, Ella moved on, her conversation covering more ground in the five blocks to the school bus than most people covered in an eight-hour shift. “Papa George promised to take me to a concert.”

Sophie winced. Papa George needed to call his daughter back. Papa George needed to return Sophie’s money. Papa George needed to stop making promises he couldn’t keep.

Giggles and the stomping of boots disrupted Sophie’s irritation. Ella’s friends crowded around, peppering her with questions about her gorgeous braids. Four schools in four years and finally they’d discovered a place where Ella could flourish. Sophie had never considered that the public school less than a mile from their home would be the best fit for her legally blind niece. But the proof embraced Ella on the cement sidewalk in a diverse circle of acceptance and friendship and trust. Moving Ella to yet another school was not an option.

Sophie hugged Ella. “Have fun today.”

Ella gripped Charlotte’s elbow and the group of girls headed toward the buses, a flurry of excited chatter. Sophie waved to Ella’s teacher and Ella’s aide before she rushed down the sidewalk, heading toward her morning appointment. She had to find her money and save their home. And soon.

Her father had to be in serious trouble. She’d always believed she was free from his shady tactics. That she was somehow different to him, and darn it if she didn’t need to feel special, even for a moment, to someone. One time in her life.

No, she didn’t need to feel special anymore. She’d craved that when she was a child. But she’d outgrown the feeling the same way she had outgrown her craving for cereals with marshmallows and stars and good-luck charms.

Sophie stepped inside the law offices of Evans, Hampton, and King, leaving the pigeons on the sidewalk to peck away at her impractical childhood wishes.

Kay Olson waved at Sophie from behind the reception desk and slid off her headset. Kay tweaked her gray hair back into place. She’d been Sophie’s first customer for her dog-walking business a decade earlier. Kay’s hair had been gray even before cancer took Sophie’s grandmother and Kay’s childhood best friend, and before her daughter, April, became pregnant with twins.

Kay’s silver pixie cut was like battle armor, a spiked shield she wore to deflect the mess life seemed content to keep throwing at her. Her shield allowed her to believe in something better. Kay wasn’t expecting a pot of gold at the end of her rainbow—she was more of a realist than that. Sophie wanted some of that same inner-battle armor, though, to forge through her latest roadblock.

“Before you ask, I sent April home to bed.” Sophie unzipped her coat. “If you have the sponsorship check for the gala, I can take it and let you get back to work.”

“Let’s talk in here.” Kay pointed across the hall. “You can sample the pastries from Whisk and Whip Pastry Shop. Everyone agreed last week the Whisk is the city’s best.”

Sophie followed Kay into a small conference room that might have been bright if not for the fog crowding against the wall of windows. “I promised April I’d head over with the laptop and we’d work on the gala table seating so she still feels included.”

“April didn’t want to listen to the doctor.” Kay thrust her fingers through her hair, tightening the spikes. “She never wants to listen to any opinion that differs from her own, including her mother’s.”

“She’ll do what’s right for her babies.” Sophie walked to the windows that looked out over a park, but the gray mist had swallowed the swing set and slides. Mothers had a duty to do what was right for their children. Yet Sophie’s own mother had failed, and her sister struggled to put Ella first. Motherhood for the Callahan women was like standing inside the fog and never seeing the children’s little hands reaching for them. Sophie feared if she became a mother, she’d get lost in the fog, too. And that would be unforgivable.

“Well, the father needs to be told. That’s what’s right.” Kay smacked her palm against the table and released a sigh tinged with frustration. “But we don’t need to have this conversation again.”

“I’ve tried to ask April about the identity of the father, but she refuses to talk about what happened.” Sophie searched the fog for the metal curve of the swing set. She’d wanted to help April, seeing so much of her sister in the lost woman. Even more, she’d wanted to help Kay, to give back to the woman who’d given Sophie direction and purpose so many years ago. “I’m not sure I’ve been much of a good influence on her.”

“Nonsense,” Kay said. “April wants to keep working at your place. This is the longest she has stuck with anything. She claims she needs the Pampered Pooch and the four-legged customers to keep her calm.”

“She’s wonderful with the animals, especially the injured and newborns.” Sophie turned her back on the park and leaned against the window ledge. “She’ll be a great mother.”

Kay remained quiet and eyed the silver pastry platter in the center of the table. She began transferring the pastries back into a medium sized bakery box. “She isn’t you.”

“I’m not that special. I do what needs to be done. April will, too.” Sophie remembered feeling desperate and unsure, but she’d found her way, with the help of Kay and Ruthie. “You raised her right.”

“I raised her.” Kay set a croissant in the center of a napkin. “Did my best. Questioned everything. Second-guessed every decision.”

“Now you can second-guess your decision to be called Gigi or Nana or Grandma.”

Kay smiled. “My grandbabies are coming.”

“They are,” Sophie said. “There’s no second-guessing that.”

April Olson was having twins, ready or not. The pregnancy might have been unexpected, but everything since that test stick turned pink had been expected, even April’s reticence to reveal the father’s name. No one stole away in the middle of the night against the advice of family and friends only to return a year later and reveal all of their secrets. Sophie and Kay had eventually discovered that April had been in LA pursuing her music career. The prescription stuffed inside April’s jacket pocket for rest and hydration for severely bruised vocal cords was from a physician with an East Hollywood address. This was the only clue as to April’s whereabouts during her eleven-month disappearance. Other than that, April had offered few details.

Kay leaned back in her chair and looked at Sophie. “What will you do without April?”

Sophie let April keep her secrets and April never pried into Sophie’s secrets. There was a trust between the women. Now Sophie didn’t have April. She couldn’t hire and train another person fast enough to take her place. Not to mention, a full-time employee would expect health benefits. Employee health care was supposed to be part of Sophie’s plans after she’d paid off the loan. And after the gala happened, which was supposed to help raise awareness for the rescues and fosters at the Pampered Pooch that desperately needed homes. Sophie smiled, but the tension throbbing in her head was hard to ignore. “Make it work.”

“You’ve got the gala to organize.” Kay pulled the end off the croissant. “And Ella to care for.”

“I’ll shift things around. I knew this was coming. It’s my fault for not planning better. Sooner.” But she had planned. Except she’d never planned on her father betraying her and ruining everything. “I didn’t come here to whine. We can do that over Sunday dinner.”

“I didn’t bring you in here to stall, either. It’s not like me.” Kay crumbled the pastry into tiny flaky crumbs.

Kay had never been a stress eater; rather, she destroyed food when she was worried. Sophie eyed the mangled croissant. “Okay. Now I’m nervous.”

“I don’t have the sponsorship check.”

“That’s fine.” And it was fine. Perfect, actually. Kay hadn’t announced something that Sophie couldn’t handle, like she had cancer or was moving out of state. Sophie would need to call her vendors and adjust the payment schedule, but she’d sort it out. She dropped into the high-backed leather chair across from Kay. “I can get it Monday.”

Kay leaned forward and squeezed Sophie’s arm. “I won’t have a check.”

“Won’t. That’s different.” Sophie set her elbows on the table, refusing to wilt into the chair. She was starting to hate expensive soft leather chairs. First the bank. And now here. “What happened?”

“I’m not entirely certain.” Kay crushed another bit of croissant into the napkin.

Sophie struggled to remain positive, but her hope deflated quicker than the crumbs beneath Kay’s fist.

“Pete Hampton called this morning to rescind the sponsorship,” Kay said. “But he wants you to keep the firm on the sponsorship list for next year, so it isn’t a total loss.”

“I have to get through this year before I can even consider next year.” And getting through this year was in jeopardy without one of her largest sponsors. “I appreciate that he’s the senior partner and busy, but can I talk to him directly?”

“Pete’s on the road, heading to Phoenix, then Dallas, and won’t return until the end of next week.”

That’d be too late. Sophie needed to pay the caterer and the audio-visual guy on Tuesday after the holiday weekend. Kay avoided looking at Sophie, and her shoulders dipped forward as if she’d lost her only dog in a blizzard. Sophie asked, “There’s no way to change his mind, is there?”

“That man is a mule—brilliant, but a mule all the same.” Kay tossed the napkin into the trash. “I can bring it up with him when he checks in this afternoon.”

Sophie shook her head. She didn’t want Kay to jeopardize her own position within the company. Kay needed the health insurance that covered her pregnant daughter.

“Pete mentioned that the insurance company and the wellness center have also withdrawn their sponsorship. Is that true?”

Sophie pressed into the hard cherrywood table to keep from swaying backward. She felt pummeled like Kay’s croissant: ruined and unrecognizable. The loss of two more sponsors threatened the gala’s success. She had a vision for this gala. “They are my next two stops.”

“It’ll be fine. I’m sure Pete was mistaken.” But Kay’s voice lacked conviction.

“I don’t understand. When we’d met not long ago, they were excited and willing to help with the event. Everyone believed they’d help the animals first and foremost, and also boost their brands or businesses in the process. It’s a win for everyone.” For the Pampered Pooch, Sophie was hoping the event advertising would lead to more sales and subsequently allow her to venture into service-dog training.

“Pete claimed he’d made another commitment that he couldn’t break. And he mentioned something about the first-quarter budget.”

“But he could break his word to me.” Sophie cleared her throat. “Sorry, this isn’t your fault. I wanted this to work.” She’d wanted the Paws and Bark Bash to become the premier nonprofit event in the city. She’d wanted to make a difference beyond her small store. She’d wanted to do something that mattered. Ensuring forever homes for rescues and service dogs mattered.

“And it will.” Kay pushed her chair away from the table. “You just need to find new sponsors. More committed sponsors. We’ll think of businesses to approach.”

“I approached most of the city a year ago when I started planning the gala,” Sophie said. “It was hard to get those sponsors to commit ten months ago. Now we’re less than a month before the event.”

And she was broke, aside from Ella’s eye-surgery fund and the little she had in the Pooch business account. Final payments were all due within the next few weeks. She pushed out of the chair, trying to leave her distress in the leather imprint. She still had two more sponsors to visit this morning. And her father could call back or realize his mistake or return her money. She refused to give up—at least, not yet.

“I can help,” Kay said.

“You’re here more than sixty hours a week and you have April to think about.” Sophie pressed the chair to the table’s edge, trying not to panic.

“I want to help,” Kay insisted as they left the conference room.

“I appreciate it.” Sophie walked to the door. “I’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll text you when I get home.” Kay placed her headset back on.

Sophie nodded and hurried outside. She needed to check the contracts she’d signed and reread the section on cancelations and penalties. She couldn’t handle forfeiting the 50 percent deposit she’d given the caterer and the venue. More than the lost money was the damage to her reputation and the Pampered Pooch. She’d forged relationships, given her word to service-dog breeders and foster organizations. She’d vowed to find homes for every rescue she encountered and minimize their costs with affordable vet services and discounted dog supplies.

An hour later, Sophie stood in front of the insurance corporation and stared at her distorted reflection in the silver-plated serving tray. She wanted to bash the platter against the cement wall of the building, but the dish was worth at least a hundred dollars at the silent auction. That money alone could feed a kitten like Stormy Cloud for several months.

Three sponsors lost in one day. A savings account emptied overnight. And her full-time employee on bed rest. The day was turning out to be something for the record books. She squeezed the embellished silver handles, wanting to absorb the steel into her spine, and stepped into the fog that refused to give way to the sun.

Her first encounter with the city had been on a foggy night, when she’d stepped off the passenger bus holding her sister’s hand. Her grandmother had emerged from beneath a dull streetlamp to wrap both girls in her embrace. There’d been comfort in that night such that Sophie had always welcomed the fog. Greeted the fog like a lost friend.

Except today. Today, no one was coming forward from the mist to embrace her and lie to her about everything being all right, like her grandmother had done all those years ago.