Page 64 of Wrecked

He smiles and looks at me briefly before turning his attention to the road in front of us again. “That easy. The entire world can be yours, Melanie. Just don’t be afraid to ask for it.”

Chapter Twenty-One

David

Melanie looks overwhelmed the following day when it’s time to meet with Charles and Faith, my assistant. Her hand shakes when Charlie hands her a pen to sign on the documents, and for a moment, I wonder if she has forgotten how to write her own name.

Charles explains the technicalities and all the legal stuff with patience, and in a way, anyone could understand. He talks about financing, operations, and how the transition will be. Melanie smiles at me when the man tells her JHC will be the principal founder. Money won’t be an issue for any project she would like to start. We are opening the golden doors for her. There is no doubt in my mind that she will manage the new responsibilities brilliantly.

Melanie is still shaking when Charlie and Faith leave to go to the camping premises before we do the same, but after she returns to our room to get ready, her demeanor changes.

She returns from the bathroom holding a pair of leopard-printed heels in his hand and wearing green slacks, a tight white top, and a tan cover-up. Her golden mane curled over her shoulders like a halo. Or a crown. I’m not sure, but she looks absolutely stunning.

“Are you ready?” I ask her when I manage to stop drooling over her.

“As ready as I can be,” she replies.

Closing the distance between us, I give her a quick kiss. We have a meeting to attend after all.

“Let’s go, baby,” I say, taking her hand. “You have some ass to kick.”

“Do you think I can?” she asks minutes later when I’m driving to the camp

“What?”

“You know, be the boss?”

“Baby, you were born to be the boss. Now breathe. We are almost there.”

Following my instructions, Faith paved the way for us. At the entrance of the premises, the security guard gives us no trouble getting in, and the receptionist is nowhere to be seen. My assistant is waiting for us at exactly fifteen minutes to eleven, and she leads us to a door at the end of a dark hallway.

As an architect and designer, I’m already taking notes of what should be done in the very short term. First, we need to change the colors of the walls for something that opens the space and maybe place a couple of skylights and replace the old carpet. This place smells like mold and mothballs.

Melanie knocks on the door and opens it immediately. “Ms. Garfield!” A tall, slender woman with a high-pitched voice says, so this is the infamous Dianne Reynolds. “You were told your check would be mailed. Unfortunately, I have no time for this; we are having a staff meeting in a few minutes.”

“You’re fired, Dianne,” Melanie says in a monotonous voice. “You have ten minutes to vacate the office. If you need help, a security guard will provide it.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Melanie replies. “Nine minutes.”

“You have no right to do this,” the woman protests. “The board of benefactors….”

“Board?” Melanie cuts her. “What board?”

Woah, for a woman who was shaking like a leaf five minutes ago, Melanie is playing her part to perfection. As if she has been doing this for years. Believe me, I know about this, and my girl has it. I’m so fucking proud of her.

“I’m the board,” Melanie adds with a smirk I want to kiss. “The premises? Mine! I have my own financing protocol, and the benefactors were notified. You’re out. Seven minutes, Mrs. Reynolds.”

“I’m going to sue you,” that nasty woman snarls, pointing her finger at us.

“You can try,” Melanie replies before I have the chance to. Honestly, I came here to act in case she needed it, but she handled the situation perfectly herself. “Be my guest and open Pandora’s box, Dianne. I’m sure many journalists would be happy to uncover the truth about what was happening here. The bullying against the sponsored kids, how you managed the money….”

The Reynolds bitch face becomes redder by the second.

“You will hear news from me very soon,” she dares to say. Yes, my legal team will be ready for war.

“Bye, Dianne,” Melanie dismisses her with a wave. “You will get your last check in the mail.”

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