Page 102 of Royal Icing
Leo gave a brief overview of the project, and Lola considered for a moment.
“Okay,” she said. “Give me twenty-four hours, and I’ll get you a list of the biggest donors in Lynoria and a strategy. Emma said you have a presentation already?”
He nodded.
“Send it to me and I’ll spruce it up. There is one other thing.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Trust me when I say you need to get your ass back to Lynoria and start knocking on doors. Big companies need to get all their charitable giving done before the end of the year for tax purposes. You don’t have a lot of time, and you’re going to have to be hella charming.”
“He can handle that,” Emma said.
“You think it’s possible though?” he asked. For the first time since the queen’s dismissal, he felt a glimmer of hope.
“It’s possible. The goal is going to be to find big businesses with soft, squishy CEOs who actually give a shit about Lynoria. You’re going to tug on a lot of heartstrings. You don’t need those royal bastards. No offense,” Lola added.
“About payment for your services—” Leo began, but Lola shook her head vehemently.
“It’s Christmas. This is pro bono. Though I do expect a wing of the new library to be named after me. Kidding. Mostly,” she added as an afterthought.
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“You can do this. Youwilldo this,” she said firmly. “One other thing. If you can get a survivor to share her story and how one of the shelters changed her life, it’ll really make a difference. Donors remember stories, not statistics.”
Lola straightened up and glanced over her shoulder. “Shit. I’ve gotta run, I think Mateo just set a pan on fire.”
After the call ended, Leo turned to Emma. “I kind of feel like I could do anything right now. No wonder you love her so much.”
“Right? I always tell her she should’ve been a life coach.”
He frowned and was silent for a moment. “I don’t feel comfortable asking a victim to tell her story on camera. How would I even find someone willing to share? And what if their abusers are still out there and they use the video somehow to track them down?”
Emma sighed, then squared her shoulders. There was only one fast solution to this problem. “I’ll help you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know I’m not from Lynoria, but I remember what it was like to grow up with an abusive father. The shelter that took us in could have been the difference between life and death for me and my mom.”
“No. I would never ask you to relive that experience,” he said. “There has to be another way.”
She looked up at him. “If my story has the power to help even one other woman or child, I’ll do it. And when I’m a little more financially stable and your shelter has been built—because itwillbe built—I’ll help you organize donation drives.”
“I would be honored to have your help.”
She squeezed his hand, then stood up. Her stomach twisted with nerves. “I should take a shower if I’m going to be on camera.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
EMMA
“Where do I start?”Emma said.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leo asked behind the phone they were using as a camera.
“Yes,” she said firmly.
The prospect of reliving her trauma had her stomach in knots. But if it helped convince one stuffy banker to cough up the funds to build this shelter, she would reopen the wounds as many times as necessary.
