Page 39 of The Re-Proposal

I glance down and find Laura still peering up at me.

“Can I help you?” I ask flatly.

She sees my frown and shakes her head as if to wake herself up from a stupor. “Sorry. It’s just… you are the hottest guy I’ve ever seen."

I blink.

“But I guess you already know that.” She presses in. “Can I ask you a question?”

I motion for her to go ahead.

"How rich are you?" Laura turns a keen eye to my watch. "Because you’re dressed head-to-toe in designer. My brother was obsessed with fashion for a while and I saw that logo on your suit all over his vision board. Plus I saw the car you pulled up in. And you have a driver. And all those guys outside…”

She’s referring to my security team. Doberman insisted on coming with me this morning. With all the ruckus against me online, they’re sticking closer than before.

It’s ridiculous.

“Are you, like,” she leans forward and whispers, “millionaire rich or is it the other one?” Eyes the size of saucers, she hisses, “the one with the ‘b’?”

"I'm... rich enough," I say simply.

“Wow.” Laura giggles. "You just got so much hotter."

My lips quirk. Her exuberance is contagious. She seems genuine and innocent. Besides, her hands are staying at her sides. Which is always a plus.

People think sexual harassment is a one-way street, but it actually goes both ways. I’ve had more than my fair share of women with tentacles for hands.

“Laura,” I pocket my phone, “how about you give me a tour while I wait for Clarissa?”

“Sure.” She gestures down the hallway, bouncing on her toes. “This section is the admin offices and the kitchen." She points to a small room with a sink, a coffee machine and not much else. “As you can see, it’s a little dull, but we’re going to paint it and make it nicer eventually. When the co-op is making money.”

“The co-op?”

“We call it that so everyone feels a sense of ownership.” She scrunches her nose. “‘Do More Project’ is a mouthful.”

“You’re focused on helping women from the shelter, correct?”

“Yeah.” Laura’s eyes shine.

She takes me into a large atrium with high ceilings and wooden stalls.

“The co-op is like a pipeline, bringing women from the shelter straight into owning their own business.”

“Straight into?” I arch both eyebrows, already seeing holes in that plan.

“They get classes and stuff,” she says, her sneakers brushing against the light film of dirt on the ground. I frown when I notice the floor is unpainted cement.

Were they not able to finish the interior?

“But it’s pretty much ‘shelter’ and then ‘business’.” She makes a swooping gesture with her hands.

“Hm.”

“People haven’t been too supportive of us.” Her shoulders sag. “But I don’t think they understand what women go through. It's really tough to move from depending on a douchebag and then getting thrust into the world to stand on your own two feet." Laura scowls as if she'd like to punch every 'douchebag' in the city. “Life is tough enough without carrying all that baggage, you know? Without resources to help them, they often go back to harmful situations. Ms. Phoebe saw a gap in the system and that’s where the idea came from.”

“Was it her idea to go with a flea market concept?” I observe the layout.

“The stalls are here to help as many women as possible. If we could, we would have put in even more of them.”

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