Chapter 3 - THE BILLIONAIRE WHO NOTICED EVERYTHING
By eight-thirty, Laurel had forgotten about the meeting.
Or tried to.
The south bar refrigeration was repaired.
The replacement lobster bisque arrived.
The first keynote speaker finished two minutes early.
And the Brightstep Children's Center benefit was running almost perfectly.
Almost.
At 8:47 p.m., June approached with a pale face.
“Laurel.”
“What now?”
“The auction software is down.”
Laurel stopped.
“Down how?”
“Completely. No donor profiles. No paddle assignments. No payment processing.”
Laurel looked toward the stage.
The auction began in twenty-eight minutes.
Sixteen packages.
A fundraising target of $2.4 million.
Hundreds of guests expecting a seamless evening.
She took a breath.
“Have IT restart the server.”
“They tried.”
“Backup?”
“Not responding.”
Laurel stared at her.
Then asked the question that mattered.
“Do we still have the printed donor lists?”
June nodded.
“In the operations office.”
“Good.”
Laurel began walking.
“We're going manual.”
June hurried after her.
“Manual?”
“Paper bid sheets. Numbered paddles. Two runners per aisle. Finance verifies every winning bid before payment is collected.”
“We have four hundred people.”
“We have sixteen packages.”
Laurel glanced at her watch.
“We also have twenty-six minutes.”
June stared.
Then smiled.
“Okay.”
Laurel handed her a radio.
“Get Ben and the senior servers. Tell them nobody is being punished for tonight's mistakes. I need people who can think.”
Within fifteen minutes, the ballroom had transformed.
Printed bid sheets appeared at every table.
Staff members distributed numbered paddles.
Finance personnel moved to a temporary station behind the stage.
Laurel personally briefed the auctioneer.
At 9:14, she stood beside the curtain.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
YOU CAN'T FIX EVERYTHING, LAUREL.
She stared.
A second message appeared.
SOME PEOPLE NEED TO LEARN THEIR PLACE.
Her blood went cold.
She looked across the ballroom.
Preston sat at table twenty-three.
Smiling.
His phone lay beside his champagne glass.
Laurel slipped her phone into her pocket.
Then gave the auctioneer a thumbs-up.
The lights dimmed.
The first package appeared on the screen.
And the bidding began.
What followed became one of the most successful fundraising auctions in Brightstep's history.
A luxury vacation raised $180,000.
A private concert raised $240,000.
A corporate sponsorship package sparked a bidding war between two Chicago executives.
By the final package, the room was standing.
Laurel watched the fundraising total climb.
$2.1 million.
$2.3 million.
$2.5 million.
Then the final number appeared.
$2,847,000.
The ballroom erupted.
June grabbed Laurel's arm.
“We did it!”
Laurel laughed.
For the first time that evening, she felt something other than exhaustion.
Then a deep voice spoke behind her.
“You didn't just fix the problem.”
She turned.
Elias North stood a few feet away.
“You improved the event.”
Laurel smiled politely.
“Thank you.”
He looked toward the stage.
“Most people would have panicked.”
“Most people don't have June.”
Elias glanced toward her assistant.
June blushed.
Then hurried away.
Elias looked back at Laurel.
“You give your team credit.”
“They earned it.”
He studied her.
“Interesting.”
Laurel raised an eyebrow.
“What is?”
“You.”
She felt heat rise into her cheeks.
Then immediately reminded herself that Elias North was a guest.
A powerful guest.
And she was working.
“Mr. North, if you'll excuse me—”
“Have dinner with me.”
Laurel froze.
“What?”
“Tomorrow evening.”
She stared.
He continued.
“Somewhere you don't have to manage the seating chart.”
Laurel almost laughed.
“Is this a business meeting?”
Elias considered the question.
“No.”
Her heart stumbled.
“Then what is it?”
His expression softened.
“A chance to speak to someone who interests me.”
Laurel looked at him.
May you like
And for the first time in seven months, she felt something she hadn't expected.
Curiosity.
