Page 114 of Instant Karma

So, fine.Oneevent didn’t save the center, but we all knew it wouldn’t.

I’m not done yet.

“Plus, I’ve already started planning our next big fundraiser,” I continue. “And Iknowit’s going to be an enormous success.”

I can sense Quint watching me, and I feel a twinge of guilt. I probably should have talked to him about this before bringing it up to the whole staff.

Rosa starts gathering up the money, tying rubber bands around the dollars to keep them organized. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, Prudence, but maybe we can celebrate one accomplishment before moving on to the next? We still have a lot of work to be doing around here, you know.”

“No,” I say fervently. Then I hesitate. “I mean, yes, of course, taking care of the animals is number one. Always. But now that we have people talking about us, we can’t lose this momentum. Strike while the iron is hot! And I already have the perfect idea.”

Rosa sighs and I can see her preparing to hit the pause button on whatever I’m about to say, so I rush forward, grinning excitedly, my hands flashing through the air as I look around at the other volunteers. “We are going to host an end-of-summer fundraising gala!”

There are a few raised eyebrows, a few confused frowns, plenty of curious smiles.

Beside me, Quint murmurs, “Gala? I thought we decided against that.”

I glance at him. “I’ve had a change of heart.”

One eyebrow shoots up, and that confirms it. I definitely should have discussed this with him first. But… too late now.

The idea came to me right after the beach cleanup and I’ve spent the last few evenings making plans. I wish I had a fancy report or presentation board that I could use to convey all my ideas, but for now I’ll just have to get everyone on board through my persuasive exuberance.

“We’ll find a nice venue to host us, with live music and a fancy cocktailhour followed by a three-course dinner… The best part is that the opportunities to raise money are endless. We can have a raffle or a silent auction or both! And we’ll sell tickets to the event, plus I’ve been reading about this fundraising tactic called a ‘dessert dash’ that I know will be a hit, and—”

“Okay, okay,” says Rosa, raising her hands. “That all sounds great, of course. But it also sounds expensive. Maybe it’s something we can consider for next year, when things aren’t so tight.”

“No, no, we can do it! That’s the thing—if we do things right, we’ll hardly have to pay a dime. I’ll get donations from local companies for the auction items, and sponsorships from businesses and community leaders. I can make it work.”

I can see Rosa waffling, her face crinkled with hesitation.

“Trust me,” I say more forcefully now. “I’ll make it work.” I hadn’t planned on this, exactly. I’d hoped that the money from the beach cleanup would allow at least a small budget for pulling the gala together. But I’m too committed to let a little thing like money stop me. I’ll find a way.

Rosa sighs, her gaze lingering on the piles of money on the table. “All right,” she says. “You know what? The cleanup was your idea, so… here. You want to throw us a fancy gala? Here’s your budget.” She pushes the stacks toward me. Some of the quarters tip over, fanning across the table with a magical clinking noise.

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I mean, this belongs to the center now. Don’t you need it for food or new equipment?”

“Honestly, it wouldn’t go far,” says Rosa with a light laugh. “If you think you can take this money and turn it into a whole bunch more, then you deserve a chance to try.” She shrugs. “And a galadoessound like fun.”

My heart lightens. Determination wells up inside me as I reach forward to take the money. It’s hardly enough to throw a fancy party on, but it’s better than starting with nothing.

I know I can turn this three hundred and sixty-four dollars into a whole lot more. Now it’s time to prove it.

The staff disperses, off to their various tasks for the day. I’m on food prep, again, and Quint offers to help, despite technically having the day off. I’mmore than happy to accept. We head down the stairs, and I’m bubbling over with excitement, with ideas, with potential.

“So. A gala, huh?”

I cringe and glance back at Quint over my shoulder. “I should have mentioned it to you first. I just—”

He waves a hand. “Hey, if you think you can pull it off, then I’m all in.” He hesitates, before adding, “Canyou pull it off?”

I grimace. “I think so?”

He laughs. “Well, then. What are you doing tonight?”

I stumble and nearly take a nosedive off the last step. I barely catch myself on the rail.

“Whoa!” says Quint, grabbing my elbow to steady me, a second too late. “You okay?”

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