“Okay,” he said, sounding defeated. “Sure.” He left.
“Well,” Rosalind said, returning to her previous position in the chair. Pristine and perfect. Her mask had returned, and it was as if not a cross word had ever been spoken in this room. “It’s done.”
Felicity stared at her in wonder. “Yes.”
“Nasty business but necessary. Now then, shall we talk terms, too?” She leaned toward Felicity. “The price to be paid to avoid you turning Living Ruff’s finances into a police matter. I trust you’ve now seen I’m a woman of good faith.”
Felicity nodded. “Proceed.”
* * *
“The first thing that will happen tomorrow,” Rosalind said, “is my accountants will make sure two things occur: Living Ruff’s vanished $1.4 million will magically reappear, unspent. This will therefore correct any anomalies on the books come audit time, so everything will be clean. The next thing that will happen is, I will see to it that an additional $1.4 million is returned to Ms. Bartell with a full apology for any stress or inconvenience caused by what happened to her donation. It’s unconscionable that she had to send her second-in-command to sort this out for her, and I’m sure having her money back safe and sound will settle the matter for good.”
“I believe it would,” Felicity said.
“This leads me to what happens to Living Ruff. Obviously, Harvey cannot remain as director. The board is comprised of my family and friends. The entire charity is connected to me through fundraisers I run to get donations. I need to future proof my foundation in case the scam ever leaks. No one can remain working with Living Ruff who is linked to me or Harvey; otherwise the charity will be tainted the moment the story breaks. To survive, it needs an entirely clean break from us.”
“Okay…” Felicity wondered where she was going with this.
“Ms. Simmons, how would Bartell Corporation like to acquire a good, gold-star foundation that’s in need of quality overseeing? And how would you like to choose its new director?”
Shock shot through Felicity. “You’re joking.”
“I’m deadly serious. I have deep love and concern for Living Ruff. I think, though, it would be in good hands if you took it off mine.”
“Bartell Corp is a media empire. It has no interest in overseeing homeless people’s pets.”
“Why not? Things change. I read that your boss is planning to build a skyscraper. Real estate now? That’s not very media oriented, is it?”
“There’s a big difference between owning a building and owning a charity.”
“Ah, that’s the thing: charities aren’t like businesses in the sense that no one owns them. Think of Living Ruff as a boat I built. I finished it, set everything in motion, put the board members on deck as crew, then cast it out to sea. It’s now owned by no one. It just needs steering every now and then to keep it off the rocks. It’s technically not mine anymore, but I do keep a fond eye on it to make sure it’s fine. And I help it pay its bills.”
“Well, the bills aren’t something my company would be interested in taking on, thanks. Especially if you’re not going to be doing fundraisers anymore,” Felicity said firmly.
“I understand your concerns, but I’ll see to it that my friends keep running fundraising lunches to keep it in the black, even though I’ll be hands-off myself in future. So all Living Ruff needs is someone excellent to take on the cause in some showy way—so everyone gets the message it’s not mine and Harvey’s anymore. The current board will acquiesce if I ask them to vote in new members and let Bartell Corp people take their places. And it will need a new director of your choosing, of course.”
“Are you sure you can’t just replace Harvey?” Felicity asked. “That’s the easiest solution.”
“I’m afraid not. I know how it would look if I replaced my own husband—a man well-known to adore his charity. Everyone would immediately suspect he’d done something and ask questions. Because despite what he apparently thinks, I love him dearly and would never take something he loved away from him. Alternatively, people would think he was deathly ill, but when he failed to show signs of dying, they’d go back to assuming he’d done something bad. He’s also too young to retire. So you see? I’m snookered. It has to be the clean broom coming in, replacing everyone, including the director, so it doesn’t look like anything’s amiss.”
“And if I say no to this?”
“I’ll have no choice but to close the charity.”
“You could divest it to someone else.”
“And I’d be obliged to disclose to them what happened: the scam, the missing donation. The more people who know, the more it becomes a potential problem that puts Living Ruff’s future at risk. Really, Ms. Simmons, is this so onerous to take on? It’s one little charity. It will run itself independently of your media empire; their debts and credits are theirs to worry about. Not to mention it’s good publicity for your company and a great public service opportunity for those you invite to be board members. Volunteering goes down just as well with the corporate set as the wider public.”
“My boss might not share your enthusiasm.”
“If she didn’t, she’d never have invested $1.4 million in it. You already know she’s in favor. Now it’s your vote. I’d like to know now, though, if you’re seriously considering it.”
This was too fast. “I’ll need the full details of accounts—”
“I can get some of my clever people to supply that to you easily. However, Living Ruff’s filed 990 forms are highly accurate, and I suspect you’ve already looked them up, have been through them line by line, and know the health of my foundation better than most of our board. Now you’re just stalling. Are you interested in going forward with this, or am I closing down Living Ruff? If so, tell me now so I can start going into damage-control mode. Either way, your boss still gets her $1.4 million check.”
“I could still call the cops, you know. Charles deserves it.”
“Yes, he does.” Rosalind eyed her. “Although I know my punishment will hurt him far more and far longer than the criminal justice system and impact my charity far less. Of course, we both know you could be a wrecking ball if you so desired. So will it be war or diplomacy tonight?”
The irony was that Felicity’s choices had distilled down to what Elena had outlined: Rampaging Rambo or softly, softly.
Rosalind was right. The charity could be isolated financially from Bartell Corp. Publicity would also be positive. But…a homeless pet charity? She turned that over for a few minutes as Rosalind watched her silently.
Felicity made a decision.
“Put in writing Charles’s punishment, outlining everything he is required to do to make amends,” Felicity said. “I’ll have our own clever people see that he upholds his end. If not, I will not hesitate to go to the police and reveal everything. And I’ll do that even if Bartell Corp has committed to help run Living Ruff.”
Rosalind tilted her head in a respectful nod. “Done. And I will include a nondisclosure agreement in that paperwork, which will become void if we breach our side and Charles doesn’t do what is listed.”
“Acceptable. All right, I can confirm Bartell Corp’s interest in taking Living Ruff off your plate, subject to all the legalities being sorted out regarding Charles’s community service and NDA.”
“Well. It’s been interesting doing business with you, Ms. Simmons. I had wondered if you were going to ask Ms. Bartell for permission for all this. I see now that you are the one running things over there.”
Felicity froze. She hadn’t seriously thought to check in with Elena. Mainly because Rosalind was right: it was clear that Elena supported Living Ruff. But also because of what her boss had said earlier about Felicity doing whatever she had to without worrying what Elena thought.
That’s exactly what Felicity had done. That’s what a boss would do. Pride bloomed through her. “I’m the one running things,” Felicity agreed quietly.
