Chapter 4 #2
Sharon harrumphed in response. “Well, when you’ve received the LA Times Philanthropist of the Year award, then you can tell me what’s important in this town.
As for the guest list, don’t forget to invite the new tennis director at the JCC and the rabbi,” she continued, either oblivious to or choosing to ignore the increasing tension.
“And you can assume Daddy’s and my list of friends is the same as last year.
Ben, do you want to invite the admissions directors at the schools Sadie’s applying to for kindergarten?
And what about any new personal guests? Avery, are you bringing anyone special this year?
” Sharon asked, as if the donation conversation was over.
“I just met this adorable up-and-coming director. I can get you his number?”
A DM from Adam appeared in the chat box:
Here we go! Outburst from my darling husband in 3…2…1…
“Mom, just stop. We don’t have time for this.
Adam works 60+ hours a week and took time out of his busy day to serve OUR family’s foundation and you want to use it as an opportunity to grill Avery about her love life, and pressure her into dating some douchebag actor,” Ben’s voice was getting louder and louder as he angrily paced around his sparkling white living room.
“And did it ever occur to you that Avery might have life goals beyond bagging a husband?”
Avery felt the blood rush to her head as she fed off Ben’s anger.
She completely agreed with her brother. Her mom’s intense interest in their personal lives, and complete lack of interest in their work lives was beyond annoying, but unlike her brother, that was the least of her grievances at her mother at the moment.
Why did her mom get to decide where all the money went?
She’d never lifted a finger to earn a penny of it.
“Wait, so that’s it? We’re done talking about what we want to accomplish with our money?” Avery asked, frustrated. “We’re just going to give our money away to Mom’s friends’ pet projects so she can get invited to movie premieres and get more awards?”
Above Adam on her screen, Avery could see her dad shaking his head from his little box.
“Now, that’s no way to talk to your mother, both of you. She cares about you. Working together on this event is supposed to be FUN and HAPPY for our family,” he shouted, working himself up as he went. So much for calming the situation.
Avery couldn’t take it a second longer. She hated it when her family fought like this. She had to do something or she’d never get them back on track discussing her ideas.
“I have a date already!” she blurted without thinking, trying to get everyone to just shut up for a minute.
Her family fell silent. Regret bubbled up in her throat. Great, now she had to come up with a date, too.
“Who’s the lucky fella?” Adam asked, wiggling his eyebrows. She could always count on him to lighten the mood.
“Well, uh, I can’t say who it is just yet, but I will find my own date,” she squeaked out.
“Can we get back to the donations now, please?” she practically begged, blinking back the tears that were welling in the corners of her eyes.
Three months of meetings, research, and crafting the slides.
Had anyone in her family bothered to look at her proposal before they got on this call?
Her dad rubbed his temples. Ben and Adam were both looking down, probably at their phones as they conducted their own side conversation via text.
Finally, her dad nodded his head again. “Avery, you know how much I value my employees taking initiative. And I happen to agree with the point you make on page eight about aligning the business and non-profit initiatives.”
Her dad’s rare compliment helped ease the blow of defeat. She jumped on the opening. “And, I already met with the team’s marketing team and they agreed we should really focus our giving on causes that directly relate to our sport. They’re all in…”
Michael held up a finger, stopping her in her tracks from all the way across town.
“However, your mom has a valid point. We have made commitments to our existing charity partners, and we can’t just pull the rug out from under them.
So, I’ll tell you what - you’re running the show on the gala this year.
Last year we raised $300,000 at that event.
Anything raised over $300,000 this year can go toward your projects.
Does that seem fair to everyone? You raise it, you spend it how you like. ”
Avery tried to swallow away the lump in her throat.
It wasn't at all how she’d thought this would go, but it was moments like this that reminded Avery how her dad had built his business empire.
Her eyes darted around her screen, taking in her other family members’ reactions - they all looked fairly indifferent, which was its own kind of insult.
“All in favor say, aye?” she asked, her nerve returning, as she looked each family member in the eye as best she could, daring them to reject the opportunity she’d just been handed.
The family responded in a chorus of ‘ayes’ and the meeting ended.
Avery sat at her desk, her head in her hands.
She was so fucked. She’d already promised the Southside Youth Sports Complex the funds, and now she’d have to raise more than $300,000 before they got a single penny.
She’d have to double the amount raised at last year’s gala to cover her parents’ projects and her own initiatives or go back on her word.
There was no way their usual country club event could raise twice as much as years past. She’d have to find a way to reach a whole new audience.
A new venue for sure to appeal to the sport’s new, younger fans and some press to get other teams’ attention and support.
Maybe a celebrity to co-chair with her? At least that part her mom would agree with.
The next race was at Silverstone, near London, in a week and several teams had headquarters in the area.
She could ask their marketing teams for meetings while she was there and give them the same pitch she’d given Silver’s marketing team.
Maybe they’d buy tables at the gala and/or donate items for their auction?
They wouldn’t turn down a meeting with someone whose last name was Silver.
She got to work, and by the time she came up for air at 6 p.m. she had secured meetings with Archer, Phoenix, and Alpha Fuerte and had rebooked her flight to London.
She’d have to fly out tomorrow. But her usual packing list of team branded shirts and athleisure for the days at the track and business casual attire for meetings seemed depressing, especially when she thought about Teddy’s effortlessly cool look in Bahrain.
He was so polished, always looking like he’d stepped right out of a glossy magazine page.
Besides, I deserve a little retail therapy after the day I’ve had.