The Charm Offensive. Cari Webb Lynn
no second-guessing that.”
April Olson was having twins, ready or not. The pregnancy might have been unexpected, but everything since that test stick turned pink had been expected, even April’s reticence to reveal the father’s name. No one stole away in the middle of the night against the advice of family and friends only to return a year later and reveal all of their secrets. Sophie and Kay had eventually discovered that April had been in LA pursuing her music career. The prescription stuffed inside April’s jacket pocket for rest and hydration for severely bruised vocal cords was from a physician with an East Hollywood address. This was the only clue as to April’s whereabouts during her eleven-month disappearance. Other than that, April had offered few details.
Kay leaned back in her chair and looked at Sophie. “What will you do without April?”
Sophie let April keep her secrets and April never pried into Sophie’s secrets. There was a trust between the women. Now Sophie didn’t have April. She couldn’t hire and train another person fast enough to take her place. Not to mention, a full-time employee would expect health benefits. Employee health care was supposed to be part of Sophie’s plans after she’d paid off the loan. And after the gala happened, which was supposed to help raise awareness for the rescues and fosters at the Pampered Pooch that desperately needed homes. Sophie smiled, but the tension throbbing in her head was hard to ignore. “Make it work.”
“You’ve got the gala to organize.” Kay pulled the end off the croissant. “And Ella to care for.”
“I’ll shift things around. I knew this was coming. It’s my fault for not planning better. Sooner.” But she had planned. Except she’d never planned on her father betraying her and ruining everything. “I didn’t come here to whine. We can do that over Sunday dinner.”
“I didn’t bring you in here to stall, either. It’s not like me.” Kay crumbled the pastry into tiny flaky crumbs.
Kay had never been a stress eater; rather, she destroyed food when she was worried. Sophie eyed the mangled croissant. “Okay. Now I’m nervous.”
“I don’t have the sponsorship check.”
“That’s fine.” And it was fine. Perfect, actually. Kay hadn’t announced something that Sophie couldn’t handle, like she had cancer or was moving out of state. Sophie would need to call her vendors and adjust the payment schedule, but she’d sort it out. She dropped into the high-backed leather chair across from Kay. “I can get it Monday.”
Kay leaned forward and squeezed Sophie’s arm. “I won’t have a check.”
“Won’t. That’s different.” Sophie set her elbows on the table, refusing to wilt into the chair. She was starting to hate expensive soft leather chairs. First the bank. And now here. “What happened?”
“I’m not entirely certain.” Kay crushed another bit of croissant into the napkin.
Sophie struggled to remain positive, but her hope deflated quicker than the crumbs beneath Kay’s fist.
“Pete Hampton called this morning to rescind the sponsorship,” Kay said. “But he wants you to keep the firm on the sponsorship list for next year, so it isn’t a total loss.”
“I have to get through this year before I can even consider next year.” And getting through this year was in jeopardy without one of her largest sponsors. “I appreciate that he’s the senior partner and busy, but can I talk to him directly?”
“Pete’s on the road, heading to Phoenix, then Dallas, and won’t return until the end of next week.”
That’d be too late. Sophie needed to pay the caterer and the audio-visual guy on Tuesday after the holiday weekend. Kay avoided looking at Sophie, and her shoulders dipped forward as if she’d lost her only dog in a blizzard. Sophie asked, “There’s no way to change his mind, is there?”
“That man is a mule—brilliant, but a mule all the same.” Kay tossed the napkin into the trash. “I can bring it up with him when he checks in this afternoon.”
Sophie shook her head. She didn’t want Kay to jeopardize her own position within the company. Kay needed the health insurance that covered her pregnant daughter.
“Pete mentioned that the insurance company and the wellness center have also withdrawn their sponsorship. Is that true?”
Sophie pressed into the hard cherrywood table to keep from swaying backward. She felt pummeled like Kay’s croissant: ruined and unrecognizable. The loss of two more sponsors threatened the gala’s success. She had a vision for this gala. “They are my next two stops.”
“It’ll be fine. I’m sure Pete was mistaken.” But Kay’s voice lacked conviction.
“I don’t understand. When we’d met not long ago, they were excited and willing to help with the event. Everyone believed they’d help the animals first and foremost, and also boost their brands or businesses in the process. It’s a win for everyone.” For the Pampered Pooch, Sophie was hoping the event advertising would lead to more sales and subsequently allow her to venture into service-dog training.
“Pete claimed he’d made another commitment that he couldn’t break. And he mentioned something about the first-quarter budget.”
“But he could break his word to me.” Sophie cleared her throat. “Sorry, this isn’t your fault. I wanted this to work.” She’d wanted the Paws and Bark Bash to become the premier nonprofit event in the city. She’d wanted to make a difference beyond her small store. She’d wanted to do something that mattered. Ensuring forever homes for rescues and service dogs mattered.
“And it will.” Kay pushed her chair away from the table. “You just need to find new sponsors. More committed sponsors. We’ll think of businesses to approach.”
“I approached most of the city a year ago when I started planning the gala,” Sophie said. “It was hard to get those sponsors to commit ten months ago. Now we’re less than a month before the event.”
And she was broke, aside from Ella’s eye-surgery fund and the little she had in the Pooch business account. Final payments were all due within the next few weeks. She pushed out of the chair, trying to leave her distress in the leather imprint. She still had two more sponsors to visit this morning. And her father could call back or realize his mistake or return her money. She refused to give up—at least, not yet.
“I can help,” Kay said.
“You’re here more than sixty hours a week and you have April to think about.” Sophie pressed the chair to the table’s edge, trying not to panic.
“I want to help,” Kay insisted as they left the conference room.
“I appreciate it.” Sophie walked to the door. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll text you when I get home.” Kay placed her headset back on.
Sophie nodded and hurried outside. She needed to check the contracts she’d signed and reread the section on cancelations and penalties. She couldn’t handle forfeiting the 50 percent deposit she’d given the caterer and the venue. More than the lost money was the damage to her reputation and the Pampered Pooch. She’d forged relationships, given her word to service-dog breeders and foster organizations. She’d vowed to find homes for every rescue she encountered and minimize their costs with affordable vet services and discounted dog supplies.
An hour later, Sophie stood in front of the insurance corporation and stared at her distorted reflection in the silver-plated serving tray. She wanted to bash the platter against the cement wall of the building, but the dish was worth at least a hundred dollars at the silent auction. That money alone could feed a kitten like Stormy Cloud for several months.
Three sponsors lost in one day. A savings account emptied overnight. And her full-time employee on bed rest. The day was turning out to be something for the record books. She squeezed the embellished silver handles, wanting to absorb the