Chapter 251
“As you may know,” I began, handing out pamphlets to everyone at the table, “my eating disorder awareness campaign is drawing to a close. To mark this milestone and raise final funds for our new facility, I propose we host a charity gala.”
I clicked through my presentation, showcasing elegant venues and detailing the donation goal.
“My goal is to raise $50,000 toward building the facility,” I said.
Just as I was about to continue, I heard a scoff from across the table. I turned to Leonard, Noah’s chief financial officer, who was leaning forward. “Something to say, Leonard?” Noah asked.
“If I may,” Leonard said, to which I nodded. “How exactly do you intend to raise $50,000? That’s quite a steep goal.”
“Well, I was going to suggest we hire the local opera troupe to perform,” I replied coolly. “Their involvement would generate excitement and attract high-profile donors. We could hold the gala at the opera house.”
Leonard pressed his lips into a thin line but said nothing. Around the table, I saw a few people taking notes and nodding. Noah, however, remained silent—for now, at least. Though when I looked at him, he seemed more thoughtful than anything.
I clicked to the next slide, showing a mock-up of the event layout. “The opera performance will be the centerpiece of the evening,” I continued, “but afterward, the gala will move to the opera house ballroom, where food and drink will be served, and—”
“And what of the costs associated with such an event?” Leonard suddenly interrupted. “Hiring an opera troupe isn’t cheap, you know.”
I froze, taken aback by Leonard’s demeanor. He had never liked me much, that much I was certain, but to interrupt me twice during my presentation… well, it was rather rude.
Still, I pulled my shoulders back and answered easily. “I understand your concern as CFO, Leonard, but I’ve done a cost analysis, which you’ll find on page five of the handouts. While there are significant upfront costs, our projected return on investment is substantial. Plus, the opera troupe has agreed to perform at a discounted rate due to the charitable nature of the event.”
“And what about security?” Leonard asked, not even checking the pamphlet. “After recent… events, we need to ensure the safety of all attendees, especially you and Alpha Noah.”
When he finished, his gaze lingered on me. I felt my face flush slightly at the reminder of the waterfall incident—no doubt he was implying it was my fault. I glanced at Noah, who gave me a small, encouraging nod.
“I’ve also factored in enhanced security measures,” I explained. “The venue has its own security team, which we’ll supplement with our pack guards. I assure you, Leonard, every precaution will be taken to ensure a safe and enjoyable evening for all. Now, may I finish my presentation, or will you continue interrupting me?”
There was a smattering of chuckles around the table at my remark. Even Noah, remaining silent, seemed to hide a tiny smirk behind his hand. Leonard’s face reddened, but he nodded, leaning back in his chair.
A little while later, as I finished my presentation, I clicked off the PowerPoint and turned back to the table. “We’ll open the floor to questions now,” I said, shooting Leonard a meaningful glance.
The room was silent for a moment, and I felt my confidence waver slightly. I glanced at Noah, hoping for support, but his expression remained neutral.
Before he could speak, Leonard, of course, cleared his throat. “Luna Hannah,” he began, steepling his fingers, “while your presentation was… thorough, I still have some concerns.”
I steeled myself, forcing a polite smile. “Of course, Leonard. What other concerns do you have?”
Leonard paused, almost for dramatic effect. “If I may speak plainly?” he asked.
“Speak as plainly as you wish,” I said, even though I really wanted to throw my presentation clicker at him.
“To put it bluntly,” he said, “this entire gala is… well, preposterous.”