of my panties and I gasp. He smoothes down the skirt of my dress as I attempt to regain my footing. His mouth is set in a hard line and I know he’s disappointed, but knowing Luke he’s about to say something comforting and diplomatic.
He lays a soft kiss on my earlobe and turns to leave. “Do what makes you happy, Brina. That’s all I want. I’ll see you when you get home.”
I arrive at the counseling center at nine a.m. to find a crew of painters setting up in the lobby. The chairs in the lobby have all been pushed to the center of the space and covered with plastic sheeting. More plastic sheeting is being taped to the baseboards to cover the slate tile floor.
“Good morning, Mrs. Maxwell,” says Liam, the lanky, red-haired foreman for the painting company. “Ben asked us to come in and do a few touch-ups before today’s ribbon cutting.”
“Is Ben here?” I ask as I make my way toward the hallway, which leads toward the conference room where I will be meeting with the trustees later today.
“Ben is in his office.”
“Thank you, Liam.”
I skirt around the roll of plastic on the floor and make my way to the corridor and toward Ben Hoffman’s office. Ben is the Executive Director for the Kingston Foundation. Though I’m technically his boss, Ben doesn’t really take orders from anyone and he’s a perfectionist. He came highly recommended from Luke’s mentor, Jerry Wilshire. Ben does his job very well, maybe too well, but he seems to fall to pieces around me and I can’t quite figure out why.
I enter the office and Ben is holding his cell phone to his ear and holding up a finger as if to say, “Give me one sec.” I take a seat in the sleek chair in front of his desk and cross my legs as I wait for him to finish his conversation. He leans forward over his desk as he grips his dark hair. I’m not sure if he’s stressed or he’s trying to hide his face.
“Yeah, tell her she need to call the mechanical contractor about the warranty. The controls should be covered and we can’t have anyone upstairs until they’re working. This shouldn’t even be a fucking issue. I want them here by noon.” He hangs up and looks up at me with an apologetic expression. “Sorry. I went upstairs this morning and the controls for the one of the a/c units aren’t working. I’ve had to call four different people to get a hold of the super. What’s up?”
His fingers are tapping the top of the desk as he leans forward. He’s nervous. Ben lost his wife last year in a car accident and has been raising his three sons alone since then. We pay him enough to hire a nanny, but he insists he doesn’t need one. I admire him, but I don’t envy him.
“Do you think it would look terrible if I skipped out on the banquet a little early, you know, after I’ve already met with all the trustees?”
“Why? What do you got going on?”
“It’s Luke’s birthday and I think we need a reason to celebrate that’s not related to the center. It’s been taking up a lot of my time.”
His fingers stop moving and his eyes widen as he sits back in his chair. “Right. How old is he now?”
I pause for a moment, unsure why he cares how old Luke is. “He’s thirty-two today. So do you think that would be okay?”
“Well, you are the base of this foundation, Brina. I do think it would look bad, but your marriage is important. If you feel you need to leave early then that’s what you should do.” He stares at the desk phone for a moment before he continues. “There’s someone here to see you. He’s waiting in the boardroom.”
“Who is it?”
He casts a weary look in my direction. “I had the security guards check him for weapons and he’s clear. Just some homeless kid. Says he served with your brother.”
My heart stops at the mention of my brother. Everyone here knows how my brother committed suicide while suffering from severe post-traumatic stress disorder, right before he was scheduled to leave for his
He lays a soft kiss on my earlobe and turns to leave. “Do what makes you happy, Brina. That’s all I want. I’ll see you when you get home.”
I arrive at the counseling center at nine a.m. to find a crew of painters setting up in the lobby. The chairs in the lobby have all been pushed to the center of the space and covered with plastic sheeting. More plastic sheeting is being taped to the baseboards to cover the slate tile floor.
“Good morning, Mrs. Maxwell,” says Liam, the lanky, red-haired foreman for the painting company. “Ben asked us to come in and do a few touch-ups before today’s ribbon cutting.”
“Is Ben here?” I ask as I make my way toward the hallway, which leads toward the conference room where I will be meeting with the trustees later today.
“Ben is in his office.”
“Thank you, Liam.”
I skirt around the roll of plastic on the floor and make my way to the corridor and toward Ben Hoffman’s office. Ben is the Executive Director for the Kingston Foundation. Though I’m technically his boss, Ben doesn’t really take orders from anyone and he’s a perfectionist. He came highly recommended from Luke’s mentor, Jerry Wilshire. Ben does his job very well, maybe too well, but he seems to fall to pieces around me and I can’t quite figure out why.
I enter the office and Ben is holding his cell phone to his ear and holding up a finger as if to say, “Give me one sec.” I take a seat in the sleek chair in front of his desk and cross my legs as I wait for him to finish his conversation. He leans forward over his desk as he grips his dark hair. I’m not sure if he’s stressed or he’s trying to hide his face.
“Yeah, tell her she need to call the mechanical contractor about the warranty. The controls should be covered and we can’t have anyone upstairs until they’re working. This shouldn’t even be a fucking issue. I want them here by noon.” He hangs up and looks up at me with an apologetic expression. “Sorry. I went upstairs this morning and the controls for the one of the a/c units aren’t working. I’ve had to call four different people to get a hold of the super. What’s up?”
His fingers are tapping the top of the desk as he leans forward. He’s nervous. Ben lost his wife last year in a car accident and has been raising his three sons alone since then. We pay him enough to hire a nanny, but he insists he doesn’t need one. I admire him, but I don’t envy him.
“Do you think it would look terrible if I skipped out on the banquet a little early, you know, after I’ve already met with all the trustees?”
“Why? What do you got going on?”
“It’s Luke’s birthday and I think we need a reason to celebrate that’s not related to the center. It’s been taking up a lot of my time.”
His fingers stop moving and his eyes widen as he sits back in his chair. “Right. How old is he now?”
I pause for a moment, unsure why he cares how old Luke is. “He’s thirty-two today. So do you think that would be okay?”
“Well, you are the base of this foundation, Brina. I do think it would look bad, but your marriage is important. If you feel you need to leave early then that’s what you should do.” He stares at the desk phone for a moment before he continues. “There’s someone here to see you. He’s waiting in the boardroom.”
“Who is it?”
He casts a weary look in my direction. “I had the security guards check him for weapons and he’s clear. Just some homeless kid. Says he served with your brother.”
My heart stops at the mention of my brother. Everyone here knows how my brother committed suicide while suffering from severe post-traumatic stress disorder, right before he was scheduled to leave for his
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