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I wouldn’t put Bruce through that. “I will.” I groaned. “What do I do though? She won’t listen to reason or give up control of the foundation.”
“I knew your mother quite well, and she wouldn’t want this for you.” The two of them had been friends since grade school.
“I know it’s hard to let go of The Wishing Well. It’s the last connection you have to remember her by.”
I drew in a deep breath, unable to fight the tears that slid over my cheeks. I swiped them away, knowing that my makeup was likely running down my face. “I don’t know if I can completely let the charity go yet,” I whispered.
“If you’re still not ready, let me cap the amount and how often she can withdraw the money,” Bruce suggested.
I sniffed. “Okay, set up what you think is fair. I’ll reach out to my stepmother and let her know.”
“Why don’t you give yourself tonight? This can keep until tomorrow. Unless you’re going to press charges.”
“No, I can’t.” I didn’t want any bad publicity to sully my mother’s name or foundation in any way.
“Let me know if I can help.”
“I will, Bruce. Thank you for keeping me informed.”
“You’ll figure out what to do.” I appreciated his encouragement.
“Thank you.”
We said our goodbyes.
Once I’d hung up, I couldn’t stop the sobs that burst forth. I tried hiding my face from anyone walking by but knew it was useless. When I cried, I was loud, my face grew blotchy, and snot dripped down my nose. I grabbed tissues out of my purse to stem the flow.
As the tears subsided, I rubbed at my temples. I felt like such a failure. The foundation meant everything to my mother, and the thought of closing it made my stomach clench and tears start again. My head ached the more I thought about confronting my stepmother. Bruce was right. I needed time to get myself under control before I spoke with her.
For now, I just wanted to get home and crawl into bed. My arms and legs felt heavy, and I dreaded waiting for an Uber. Years of needing to be perfect in public was so ingrained in me that I had a hard time not feeling embarrassed about my disheveled appearance.
“Ms. Winter!”
Shit.Zoey. I didn’t want her to see me like this. I dug through my purse as she and Beckett approached. When my fingers closed around my sunglasses, I wanted to cheer. I slipped them onto my face just in time. At least, I thought I had until Beckett’s gaze narrowed.
His steps slowed, and his hand tightened on Zoey’s shoulder. He glanced around before looking straight at me. “Is everything all right?”
I nodded, not yet able to answer.
He stepped in front of Zoey. “Give us a minute, kiddo.”
I stared up at him, glad my sunglasses hid the surprised expression. What was happening right now?
He leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “Do we need to call the police?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” My heart melted at his concern. “Thank you though for checking on me.”
He gave me a stiff nod of acceptance. Warmth spread through me at his protectiveness. I wasn’t used to someone looking out for me, and I liked it more than I should.
Zoey inched forward when Beckett stepped to the side of me. She looked between the two of us with a quizzical expression on her face. “Hey, Ms. Winter.”
“Hi, Zoey. How was your dinner?” I gave my best attempt at a smile.
She giggled. “We just had appetizers and desserts.”
I let out a shuddery breath, still trying to calm myself after all the crying I’d done. “That sounds like the best part of a meal.” My voice sounded hoarse even to my ears.
“Ms. Winter, you don’t sound so good.” Her tiny hand reached for mine. The concern in her voice and the sweet way she tried to comfort me made me want to cry again. Not that I would. The last thing I’d ever want to do is upset Zoey.