Too good to be true, p.6
Too Good to be True, page 6
“Student lunches?” Madison frowned, her brow crinkling in the most adorable way.
“Of course, right. Yeah, let’s talk.”
But even with that stern reminder, she listened to Madison speak, trying hard to focus on her words and not the way she spoke with her hands. Hands that had gripped Jen’s thighs while she went down on her. Oh, okay, pay attention. Work here.
Madison’s proposal was good. She wanted to provide lunches for her need-based students. It was a small group; Hutchinson’s didn’t have the financial resources to offer substantial financial aid packages. At least not yet. Her initial idea was to work with local programs to arrange bagged lunches. Jen could think of at least two nonprofits to ask.
“But bagged lunches are not the most efficient solution, and it comes with its own stigma. Students will pick up on it almost immediately,” Madison said.
“Yes, well, what you really need is a kitchen. But…” Jen stopped mid-sentence, her mind spiraling ahead of her mouth. Hutchinson’s didn’t have a kitchen, but what if they did? Then all students could get lunch, either free or paid for. They could set up an electronic system behind the scenes that all students could use, so no one would know if the lunch was paid for or not. She’d have to secure funding for a building or renovation and a project manager because no way in hell did Kathleen have time to oversee a project of this magnitude.
“Jen?”
Caught in a work daydream this time and not a sexual fantasy, she pulled her attention back to Madison. The small space and their proximity made thinking impossible. She needed a change of scenery. Holding out her hand, she said, “Let’s take a walk. I have an idea.”
Madison stared at her hand for a second before she took it. “Where are we going?”
Relief poured through her when Madison finally grabbed hold—maybe physical contact was not such a good idea—and then disappointment when she let go almost immediately. Did she really think they’d walk hand in hand through the hallways? She mentally rolled her eyes at her silliness.
Walking always helped her flesh out her thoughts, and seeing the campus with fresh eyes would put it all in perspective. Not bothering with her coat, they toured the campus together: an entire city block situated in the Wayland Square neighborhood with three main buildings—one for the elementary, another for the middle school, and another for the high school—connected to a library and a gym.
“I like your idea,” Jen began. “I think Hutchinson’s needs to show a social and cultural commitment to diversity beyond its meager financial package. Bagged lunches are a great start, and I can get you that money. Breakfasts will be harder, but there are nonprofits that can help.”
She floated a few names and details, but that wasn’t what she was looking for. At the edge of the soccer and baseball fields, she turned back and looked over the grounds with a builder’s eye. Yes, right there. She pointed and delivered her final pitch. “But what if we had a commercial kitchen on premises?”
Madison looked in the direction. “A kitchen?”
“Yes.” She held her breath. This was the moment, that edge of decision-indecision that she led so many donors through every year, so familiar and yet so new because it was Madison she was trying to convince, or was it herself? This was unknown territory for her, and it thrilled her.
Madison laughed.
Not the reaction Jen was expecting. Her enthusiasm evaporated. Okay, back to the drawing board. Not until she was faced with Madison’s laughter did Jen realize that she’d hoped to impress Madison with her vision.
But Madison surprised her and grabbed her hands. “It’s fantastic. Can you really do it?”
Jen smiled and squeezed her hands, excitement rushing through her. “Darling, I told you, I can make it rain money.”
* * *
A few days later, Jen felt a drought coming on. She followed her boss back to his office. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she said, “If I have to listen to that asshole mansplain donor management one more time, I will set fire to his fucking Tesla.”
Mark Calhoun motioned for her to close the door and settled behind his desk. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned back and let her vent.
The he in question, Michael Harris, was their newest team member and ten years her junior. He was hired three months ago at the same level as her, but he was starting to behave more as her superior. “Do you know he won’t meet with any women alone?” she asked. “Some kind of ‘religious exemption.’ That can’t be legal. Is Brian really grooming him for his job?”
Mark leaned forward. “Where did you hear that?”
Jen paused mid-stride at the tone of his voice. She couldn’t tell if he meant the meeting alone or the grooming bit. Although she had a feeling it was the grooming rumor. She recognized that particular blend of resignation and inevitableness. She lived with that feeling with Rachel and her never-ending arrangement for the past few years. She didn’t need it at work. All the fire fled, and she dropped into a chair. “Mark, your poker face is awful.”
He rubbed his forehead. “There’s been talk.”
She frowned. “That’s your job.”
He smiled. “I don’t want it. I like where I’m at.”
Mark was the VP for principal gifts. Principal gifts worked with gifts over one million dollars. Only Mark exceeded her skill at bringing in donors. But Brian was the VP for all the college’s development units, including principal gifts.
“Michael doesn’t have the qualifications for it,” Jen said, not that her opinion mattered. Principal gifts was a boys’ club, and she’d spent years bucking the system only to have the door slammed in her face again and again. “He’s done less than three years in principal gifts and most of that at Penn.”
“Yes, but in that time, he brought in more money than both of us combined in the last four years.”
Jen snorted. “A point he’s happy to make every chance he gets. But I did my homework. It all comes from his family. The Harris Foundation and its subsidiaries account for two-thirds of that two hundred and fifty million dollars.”
He smiled. “Eighty-three million is still a lot of money.”
She narrowed her eyes. “But not more than we raised last year. He’s a one-trick pony.”
“But with the right connections.” He shrugged.
“And the right equipment.” She tossed that one out there and waited for Mark to say something to defend the misogyny in her field. She had danced around this subject with him before, and he’d never come out and said it, but he knew the cards were stacked against women, particularly in principal gifts, where so much of the money rested with white men.
He surprised her by agreeing. “Yes. But Brian’s a couple years away from retiring. You’ve got time.”
She left his office an hour later. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her work life was about to get much harder. Despite Mark’s assurances, she didn’t trust the old boys’ network to ever work in her favor. She used the same tools and had her own family name and connections, but she always hit the gender wall. In a few years, she’d be hitting the crispy edge of burnout from fighting the same battles, and she was getting too old to work so hard for another idiot. Something was going to have to give. She needed to do something that felt good.
Something like Madison’s project. Pulling out her phone, she texted Kathleen. Drinks tonight?
A few minutes later, she got a reply. Sure. When and where?
* * *
Kathleen put her drink down. “A kitchen? Are you serious? I’m desperately trying to hold the finances together, and you want to talk about an expansion? Not to mention the additional time it would take to manage a project of that magnitude. Then staffing it and getting it up to code. I just asked you to find some money for bagged lunches.” Her words were more combative than her tone, but they were still on the edge.
Jen had invited her out for cocktails because she knew she had to get Kathleen a little bit buzzed to break the idea to her. Kathleen was under a tremendous amount of pressure, but the kitchen idea was a good one. Jen just needed to pull her back in and lead her there. “I can do this. You know I can.”
Kathleen rubbed her forehead. “Jen…”
She leaned in. “Let me try it.”
Kathleen shook her head. “It’s too much. A new cafeteria? I don’t have the resources for an expansion.”
“I know. I will find a way to take care of that.”
“What about the endowment?”
“They’re two separate streams. I can manage them both.”
Kathleen sighed. “And then maintaining it. There are food service regulations.”
“We can outsource that. Kathleen, please let me try this.”
Kathleen narrowed her eyes. “Why does this mean so much to you?”
Good question. Why was she so invested in it? She was already committed to helping Kathleen grow the endowment. Why add on work? Why not do something else? She could tell other people, including Kathleen, that it was the project that drew her in; she did believe in it, but she would not lie to herself. This was Madison’s project, and that was the real reason. She’d seen the way Madison still looked at her when she didn’t think Jen was watching. She didn’t want to close the door on something more just yet. She just needed more time. “Because I can.”
Kathleen stared at her for a full minute before she said, “This is a side project. Your first priority is getting a lunch program working with Madison. Once that’s set up, you can do this.”
She smiled, and Kathleen held up her hand. For a moment, she worried that her friend would call her on the real reasons behind the hard sell. She knew it wouldn’t hold up to close scrutiny. “But if this takes away from the endowment, it ends before it begins.”
Hopefully, her plan to get closer to Madison wouldn’t suffer the same fate.
* * *
Jen arrived at school a few minutes before class let out. Unable to wait in one place, she moved through the sea of students and parents, keeping an eye out for Madison. A little giddy at the prospect of seeing her, she wanted to share the good news, but she didn’t want to seem too eager. Casually bumping into her at pickup would cover her intentions.
A hand curled around her forearm, and she jumped. Apparently, she was more nervous than she thought. But before she could react, the woman behind the hand pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you.”
Shawn. Jen had filed Shawn under “don’t shit where you eat.” Shortly after her separation, they’d had a brief relationship that had flamed out just as fast it began. Carter had told her that Delia, Shawn’s daughter, was back in town, but she hadn’t thought much about it. She had managed to avoid her for the first full month of school.
Jen extricated herself from the embrace and stepped back. A lead ball settled in her stomach, and all her anticipation at seeing Madison bled away. She forced herself to do the social niceties. “How was France?”
Shawn smiled and hitched up her purse. “Lovely. It was so good for Delia to experience it firsthand, you know what I mean? And the food, the wine. Of course, Kim worked the entire time.”
Jen nodded. “Of course.” She’d heard that line before. In the beginning, they’d bonded over distant partners. In hindsight, Jen knew she’d confused her loneliness and Shawn’s sympathy for compatibility and love. Bringing up Kim as the emotionally unavailable partner might have worked in the past, but there was no way she was walking this road again.
“How’s Carter? Are you and Rachel still sharing the house?”
Jen couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought of her son. “He’s good. He’s happy to have Delia back.” Even if Jen wasn’t pleased to see Delia’s parents again, she could acknowledge that. Delia was a good kid, and Jen had missed her, too. However, she wasn’t about to answer the Rachel question.
Shawn moved closer. “And you? How’ve you been?”
Jen had the good sense not to shout, “Like you fucking care.” Because in some small way, Shawn did, but only insofar as it got her into Jen’s bed. Jen grinned and pulled her most professional persona from her bag of tricks. “I’m good. Really good. I met someone.”
At first, it was a lie meant to push Shawn away, but then Madison appeared in her mind’s eye. She had met someone. But it was a bit too soon to be sharing.
Shawn’s face fell just a fraction, and Jen felt a sense of satisfaction that it had hit home. A sharper feeling jabbed her with guilt for using Madison as a weapon. In hindsight, she’d known Shawn hadn’t loved her, but Shawn had definitely hurt her by going back to Kim. Shawn glanced around as if to see if someone had overheard their conversation. “Oh, good, good. Well, I should be going. We should get together. All of us. I’d love to meet your new…”
Jen didn’t supply her with a term but instead nodded and said, “Sure. We’ll see what the kids want.” Like that was going to happen.
They parted in opposite directions. Jen shook it off, wishing once again that she hadn’t slept with someone she would run into every day. Her desire to see Madison cooled somewhat with Shawn’s arrival. She was a stark reminder of how close all the pieces of her life were connected and how mistakes in one area could affect another.
Carter found her a few minutes later. “Hey.”
Jen turned and slung an arm over his shoulder. “You’re getting tall.”
“Stop.” He bumped his shoulder into her stomach. But he didn’t move away. She tucked him into her side, enjoying the closeness with him.
Halfway down the hall, Jen spotted Madison talking with a student. On the heels of her Shawn conversation, she wasn’t so sure she wanted the two to see each other. Still, she couldn’t ignore the spark of possibility she’d had imagining Madison as her girlfriend. But before she could move one way or the other, the student walked off, leaving Madison alone and looking right at her.
Jen panicked and pretended not to see her. She regretted it when Madison’s smile faltered and faded away. Fuck. She should put on her big girl panties and talk to her; it was the reason she’d come to school early. Fuck Shawn and her mind games.
“Can I go over to Del’s this week?”
Ignoring her rising guilt, she focused on her son. “I think so. I’ll have to check with her mom.”
Carter paused, and Jen did, too. He looked up and said, “His.”
“Who?” How had she lost the thread of this conversation so quickly? She looked over, and Madison was gone. Damn.
“Del. He’s a boy. He told me. He used to be a girl. But now he’s a boy.”
Jen digested that for a half second before realizing that her son was watching her reaction very closely. Time to woman up. “That’s great. I’m so glad he felt he could share that with you.” She wondered if Shawn was aware of her child’s gender identity yet. There was no way she was going to be the first to tell her. She cared about Del, and she’d support him with whatever he needed. But she had her own shit to deal with without getting involved with Shawn again.
Chapter Seven
Madison waited outside the school, checking her app to see when her Uber was going to arrive. She’d accepted the ride without paying attention to who was giving it. Now she was staring at the driver’s picture, and her heart froze. Travis Chambers, her birth father. What were the odds? Shit. She hadn’t seen him in years, and there was no way she was getting into a car with him.
She turned and headed back into the school. She fumbled with her security card and finally opened the door. Her hands shook so badly that she dropped her phone, and it skittered across the tile entrance.
“Shit.”
“Careful.”
Of course, it was Jen. Madison hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since, well, since the wedding. But she’d disappeared after coming up with the kitchen idea last week, and Madison had no idea why. She’d kept a lookout for her during pickup times, hoping to get back on track. Talk about the project or maybe something else. But when she finally spotted her, Jen had turned away. She still felt the sting of rejection. Unsure of where she stood with Jen or the project, Madison avoided any contact. Let Jen do the work of connecting with her. It was a business relationship they had. But none of that mattered now that her birth father was coming to pick her up in his Uber, and she had no other way home.
Jen scooped the phone up and handed it to her. Her smile froze, and she said, “What’s wrong?”
Madison shook her head, and her voice shook when she spoke. “My Uber. I’m not taking it.”
Jen nodded, looking slightly confused. “Okay. You need a ride. I can take you home.”
All of a sudden, it didn’t matter if Jen had snubbed her. She was here now. Madison gripped her arms. “Thank you.”
“Come on.” Jen opened the door just as a tan Camry pulled up.
The window rolled down. “Hey, I thought that was you.”
Madison froze. Travis Chambers looked exactly like he had when child services had pulled her from the house for the last time. Now in his mid-fifties, he still had her eyes and that ruddy complexion associated with chronic alcoholism. He opened his door and got out. “Hey, squirt.”
She folded her arms, falling back on old emotional patterns, hiding her anger under ice. “I’m not your squirt.”
He took in Jen’s proximity and planted his hands on his hips. “Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“No.” She spoke without hesitation, hearing how flat she sounded.
He extended a hand to Jen. “Travis Chambers. Madi’s father.”
Jen did not take it. Her hand against the small of Madison’s back steadied her. She took comfort in her touch.
He frowned and pulled back.
Madison cleared her throat. “You’re not my father.”
Travis glanced at her, then back at Jen. “So what are you, her sugar mama?”
Madison ignored his question. “I thought you were working in Pawtucket.”
He circled his car and patted the hood. “Still am. It’s a busy night. Ready to go?”
