But I don’t.
Instead, I open a new email draft and copy her version word for word. Change a few phrases to match my voice. Add a sentence here, remove one there.
When I’m done, it’s ninety percent her work with just enough of my fingerprints to maintain plausible deniability.
I hit send before I can second guess myself.
Then I take both printed versions, the original and her rewrite, and shove them in my desk drawer. Evidence of my inadequacy, filed away where no one can see it.
Through the glass walls, I watch Bree at her desk. She’s on the phone, nodding as she takes notes.
I should walk out there right now and tell her the email was brilliant and ask her to help me with the rest of this disaster because clearly I’m in over my head.
But that would require admitting weakness.
Admitting I need her.
Admitting that the walls I’ve been building between us are bullshit and we both know it.
So I do what I always do.
I stay behind my desk and pretend that night I spent with her never happened.
By Friday afternoon,the donor response to the email is overwhelmingly positive.
Three of the frozen commitments are reinstated. The corporate partner sends a follow up saying they’re satisfied with our response and are ready to move forward.
Even Dr. Vasquez texts me:Good email. This helps.
Paloma appears in my doorway.
“I don’t know what you did differently with that email,” she says, “but it worked. Several people have responded saying they appreciate the honesty and transparency.”
“Good,” I say without looking up.
“Can I ask what changed? Between your first draft and the final version? Did you have someone—”
I meet her eyes. “Irevised it.”
“Right, but...” She trails off, clearly wanting to push but not quite brave enough.
“Was there something else you needed?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No. Just wanted to update you on the response.”
After she leaves, I glance at Bree’s desk.
She’s reading something on her screen, and I watch as her lips curve into a small smile.
She glances at her phone, scrolls through something, and the smile grows.
I wonder what she’s reading. Who she’s texting. Whether she’s thinking about the email at all or if helping me was just another task she completed andmoved on from.
My inbox pings with a new message.
It’s from Martin Hale.
Glad to see the donor situation stabilizing. Board meeting is still scheduled for next week. We need to discuss long term governance structure.
