didn’t forgive. Not if she felt you’d wronged her.
And he’d wronged her in more ways than anyone else. He didn’t even have to question it.
But it didn’t mean he had to accept it. Not in this case. He could be just as tenacious. “Look. I need you. And yes, Rostov Investments could seriously use your business acumen if we’re ever going to be as big a contender as The Royal Bank of Ruminea, but--”
She laughed long and hard and then stood up. “I left banking for good three years ago. I’m not coming back. I love Lillian’s Fund , and I love working for a noble cause. I don’t need banks anymore and, Xavier, I definitely don’t need you.”
With that, he watched her storm out of his life for a second time. Except this time, she left her trash behind for him to clean up.
Chapter Four
“We have a big problem, boss,” Elena said. Paula had always been pleased with the young Latina. She’d been a great addition to their team since joining them straight out of business school at The University of Southern California, but right now, her big, brown eyes appeared to be…watering. Shit. Is Elena crying? Paula had to check to make sure. Elena was as thick-skinned as an alligator, and a brilliant and skilled business leader in her own right.
Why?
“Elena! Is something wrong? You looked like someone died .”
“No one died,” she said, but her look was still ominous as she handed Paula the thick folder.
“What’s this?”
“It’s the RSVP records for our next set of big fundraising events. I was double checking numbers, especially since the masquerade ball is only a few weeks away. I wanted to make sure we had the right amount of appetizers and enough wine ordered.”
Paula frowned. That was the problem? Hardly something to cry about. She flipped open the folder looked over the spreadsheets before her.
No, that couldn’t be right. “Did these get entered wrong? Did you check?”
Elena nodded and blinked. “I wish they were wrong. But according to the tally for the masquerade, we’ve only sold about fifty percent of the tickets. And it’s planned for the end of this month!”
“That’s barely ten thousand dollars above our own basic expenses!” And, it would put them far behind in their goal of a hundred thousand dollars for the year. Paula swallowed, and it felt like her throat was filled with shards of glass. “Damn it!”
“Exactly what I was thinking. Worst, the ball has been our most popular fundraiser so far. The rest of the events are only at about twenty-five or thirty percent reservations. It’s not going well. We need more of a draw.”
Paula shook her head. “There has to be someone we can get.”
“The problem is that we’re the new kid on the block. The other charities already have the big celebrities. And unless we can match them with a big name star…we’re screwed.” Elena dropped into the chair on the other side of Paula’s desk.
“But…I don’t have any connections to anyone in the entertainment industry. Not in Vegas. Do you?” Paula frowned and rubbed her forehead.
“Well…there is one person I can think of,” Elena said.
Paula had a sinking feeling she knew exactly to whom her assistant was referring. “Uh…no.”
“I know, but that’s what draws the crowds willing to pay beaucoup bucks for a plate of dried-out, overcooked chicken, and a spoonful of rice pilaf, Boss. If we want headlines, publicity—funding!—we need him.”
“What about Raymond? He’s a royal.” Paula knew she was grabbing at straws, but the alternative was unthinkable. “At one time, yes, that would have worked. But since he’s settled down with Melissa, the tabloids never cover him. He’s about as interesting as…well, we are. But Xavier’s bad boy reputation sells papers, magazines…and it will sell tickets for the ball.”
Paula set her head in her hands. She knew Elena was right. Xavier’s appearance at the Masquerade would bring in
And he’d wronged her in more ways than anyone else. He didn’t even have to question it.
But it didn’t mean he had to accept it. Not in this case. He could be just as tenacious. “Look. I need you. And yes, Rostov Investments could seriously use your business acumen if we’re ever going to be as big a contender as The Royal Bank of Ruminea, but--”
She laughed long and hard and then stood up. “I left banking for good three years ago. I’m not coming back. I love Lillian’s Fund , and I love working for a noble cause. I don’t need banks anymore and, Xavier, I definitely don’t need you.”
With that, he watched her storm out of his life for a second time. Except this time, she left her trash behind for him to clean up.
Chapter Four
“We have a big problem, boss,” Elena said. Paula had always been pleased with the young Latina. She’d been a great addition to their team since joining them straight out of business school at The University of Southern California, but right now, her big, brown eyes appeared to be…watering. Shit. Is Elena crying? Paula had to check to make sure. Elena was as thick-skinned as an alligator, and a brilliant and skilled business leader in her own right.
Why?
“Elena! Is something wrong? You looked like someone died .”
“No one died,” she said, but her look was still ominous as she handed Paula the thick folder.
“What’s this?”
“It’s the RSVP records for our next set of big fundraising events. I was double checking numbers, especially since the masquerade ball is only a few weeks away. I wanted to make sure we had the right amount of appetizers and enough wine ordered.”
Paula frowned. That was the problem? Hardly something to cry about. She flipped open the folder looked over the spreadsheets before her.
No, that couldn’t be right. “Did these get entered wrong? Did you check?”
Elena nodded and blinked. “I wish they were wrong. But according to the tally for the masquerade, we’ve only sold about fifty percent of the tickets. And it’s planned for the end of this month!”
“That’s barely ten thousand dollars above our own basic expenses!” And, it would put them far behind in their goal of a hundred thousand dollars for the year. Paula swallowed, and it felt like her throat was filled with shards of glass. “Damn it!”
“Exactly what I was thinking. Worst, the ball has been our most popular fundraiser so far. The rest of the events are only at about twenty-five or thirty percent reservations. It’s not going well. We need more of a draw.”
Paula shook her head. “There has to be someone we can get.”
“The problem is that we’re the new kid on the block. The other charities already have the big celebrities. And unless we can match them with a big name star…we’re screwed.” Elena dropped into the chair on the other side of Paula’s desk.
“But…I don’t have any connections to anyone in the entertainment industry. Not in Vegas. Do you?” Paula frowned and rubbed her forehead.
“Well…there is one person I can think of,” Elena said.
Paula had a sinking feeling she knew exactly to whom her assistant was referring. “Uh…no.”
“I know, but that’s what draws the crowds willing to pay beaucoup bucks for a plate of dried-out, overcooked chicken, and a spoonful of rice pilaf, Boss. If we want headlines, publicity—funding!—we need him.”
“What about Raymond? He’s a royal.” Paula knew she was grabbing at straws, but the alternative was unthinkable. “At one time, yes, that would have worked. But since he’s settled down with Melissa, the tabloids never cover him. He’s about as interesting as…well, we are. But Xavier’s bad boy reputation sells papers, magazines…and it will sell tickets for the ball.”
Paula set her head in her hands. She knew Elena was right. Xavier’s appearance at the Masquerade would bring in
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