Chapter 152

Iris

As I take a seat all the way at the other end of the long glass conference table, I can’t help but feel a little awkward. The distance between us feels like miles. Does Veronica really need to seat us so far apart?

But I keep my expression serene and don’t mention it, refusing to show discomfort. Veronica likely doesn’t mean anything by it, anyway, and even if she does, I don’t want to cause a scene over seating arrangements.

“Thank you for meeting with me today,” I begin with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about ways to expand my arts education initiative, and I think partnering with the Ordan Public School Fund would be the perfect next step.”

Veronica tilts her head slightly so that a delicate strand of hair falls perfectly against her slender cheek. “I’m intrigued. What exactly do you have in mind?”

I open my portfolio and pull out the proposal I’ve prepared. Of course, she’s so fucking far away that I can’t even slide it to her, so I get up, walk down the length of the enormous table, hand it to her, then return to my seat. My heels click the whole way, seeming to echo in the vast room.

“I was thinking of hosting a charity gala with an art auction,” I explain once I’ve finally taken my seat once more. “I would like to contribute several of my own pieces to auction off, and I’ve already spoken to other local artists who are willing to donate work. The Marsiel Gallery has offered their space, and Abbott Gallery is on board to help with advertising.”

“Impressive,” Veronica says, and I can’t tell if she actually means it or if she’s just being polite. I hope it’s the former, although I’m never certain with her. “You’ve done your homework.”

“I want to make a real difference this time,” I say with a shrug. “My children’s day event was symbolic—”

“And came with some drama,” Veronica adds.

I press my lips into a thin line and refuse to comment. “Regardless, the funds we raised simply weren’t enough to make a large impact on the disparity between private and public school education. My main goal is to help bridge the gap.”

She tilts her head again. “To ensure that public school children receive a good education, or to ensure Miles won’t be ridiculed for attending private school?”

My chest constricts with a flare of anger, but I quickly tamp it down. “Two things can be true at the same time.”

“Of course.” Veronica takes her time reviewing the document. I try not to fidget as I wait for her response. The only sound in the room is that of the rustling of papers.

“This is ambitious,” she finally says, looking up at me. “But I do see potential. There are some financial considerations we need to discuss, though.”

I nod, pulling out my notepad. “Of course. That’s one reason I wanted to partner with your charity—you have the infrastructure in place for handling major donations.”

“The Ordan Public School Fund has significant operating costs,” Veronica explains, pulling out a tablet and tapping on the screen. “Staff salaries, administrative expenses… We’d need to meet a certain threshold before any donations could be directly allocated to school programs.”

She turns the tablet toward me, and even from here, I can see the exorbitant number. I suppress a gasp. It’s nearly triple what I had budgeted for.

“That’s… a lot more than I anticipated,” I admit, glancing at her.

Veronica’s smile is unwavering. “Quality initiatives require proper funding, Iris. This isn’t a bake sale we’re running.”

I swallow my automatic defensive response. “No, of course not. I understand.”

“The question is,” Veronica says, “can you meet this goal? Your previous event, while well-intentioned, didn’t exactly bring in substantial funds…”

My face warms at the dig, but I force my smile to remain in place. As if the paparazzi can take pictures of my sour mug through the windows. Which, actually, the windows are so large they might actually be able to.

“I believe we can,” I manage. “With the right sponsors and an exclusive guest list, plus the art auction, we should be able to meet or even exceed that amount.”

“That’s the spirit,” Veronica says brightly. “I’d be happy to share our donor database with you. Many of them are enthusiastic about arts education.”

I jot down notes as Veronica continues outlining what the partnership would entail. Despite the higher financial bar, working with her established charity would give my initiative instant credibility. And the PR benefits of publicly joining forces would be invaluable after those awful tabloid stories.

“I think this could work well for both of us,” I say once we’ve gone through all the details. “I’m committed to making it a success.”

“Wonderful.” Veronica stands, tenting her fingers on the glass table. “We’ll need to move quickly, though. The fall social season fills up fast, and we want to secure the best date.”

“I was thinking three weeks from now,” I suggest. “Alice said the gallery is available then.”

Veronica raises an eyebrow. “Three weeks? That’s ambitious.”

“I work well under pressure.”

“Clearly.” Her eyes do a quick sweep over me as if assessing me. “Very well. I’ll have my team start on the paperwork immediately.”

With that, Veronica extends her hand. She doesn’t make a move to walk toward me. I bite back a comment and cross over to her, then shake her slender hand.

Now that we’re this close, I can’t help but notice something—or rather, the absence of something. The lavender and lily scent she wore at the children’s day event is gone, replaced by something more expensive-smelling and distinctly different.

Did she stop wearing it because of what happened with Miles? Or had she worn it specifically for that day, knowing that Miles might recognize it as my scent?

I shake the thought away immediately. I’m being paranoid again, looking for malice where there might be none. Maybe she just wears different perfumes on different days, like most rich people do. I’m just used to having very little money and having to stretch a single bottle of perfume over the course of a full year.

“Oh, before I go,” I say as I gather my materials, “I wanted to check something. The last time I prepared a proposal, there were some… discrepancies in the financial section when I presented it. I want to make sure we’re absolutely clear on the donation threshold before we proceed. It seems quite high for operating costs.”

Something flashes in Veronica’s eyes—so quickly I almost miss it—before her polite smile returns. “The Ordan Public School Fund has been operational for eight years, Iris. Our financial model is meticulously developed and has been independently audited. I assure you, we know what we’re doing.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise,” I say quickly. “I’m just eager to learn more about charity management. Working alongside you will be a great opportunity for me to understand these things better.”

Veronica’s smile widens a fraction. “Indeed. The learning curve can be… steep for rookies. But don’t worry, cousin. I’m sure you’ll catch up eventually.”

The words are perfectly pleasant, but something in her tone makes my skin prickle. Did she just imply I’m slow to learn? Or am I being overly sensitive… again?

“Well, I appreciate your guidance,” I say with a nod.

“That’s what family is for,” Veronica says sweetly. “We wouldn’t want another incident like the children’s day, would we?”

There it is again—that hint of something beneath her words that leaves me uncertain whether I’m imagining things. Before I can respond, she’s guiding me toward the door, quietly indicating that our meeting is over.

The drive home gives me time to sort through my thoughts. Despite the unease lingering from some of Veronica’s comments, I feel cautiously optimistic about the partnership. The gala will be challenging to organize on such a short timeline, especially with such a high donation goal, that’s for certain.

But I think it could be a major success. And a turning point not just for the children of Ordan, but also for our family.