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“It’s a big risk. It could have a knock-on effect,” Elana says, looking at the document in front of her.

“True, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. It’s the right thing to do, for the good of the community and our company,” I tell them. “I need you to trust me. When have I let you down?”

A few heads around the table nod.

It’s Donald who speaks first. “The time delay, Caleb? Can we really afford to push this project back any further? We’re already six months behind, courtesy of the landlord.”

“I think I can pull it back in,” I say, meeting his steely gaze. If there’s anyone I have to win over, it will be Donald. At sixty, he’s seen and done it all.

“I’m speaking to the contractors and our onsite team at the start of next week. I did, however, want to update you all on the changes I am proposing.”

“And we appreciate being kept in the loop, Caleb.” It’s Jameson who steps up, the head of communications and public relations. “If I can add. I think we all need to take these figures away and think about what this means. I tend to agree with Caleb. This community are not going to sit quietly by on this. There are already stirrings. I’ve had reporters on the telephone, sniffing for a story. Today’s flash mob got people’s attention. We don’t need to damage our reputation when we have a proposed fix.”

It was a member of Jameson’s team who sat on April’s emails.

“I called the planning office and spoke to Mo. The retailoutlets proposed for development can easily be repurposed with a change in planning application. As the business has already been present, there should be no issues,” I say.

“Fine, then I suggest we all take the weekend to process what is going on. Have another meeting once Caleb has spoken to the developers.”

“You are taking a great deal of interest in this project,” Donald says, staring me down.

“It’s my reputation. I did not set this firm up and work this hard to have miscommunications and false truths derail us.”

“I’m happy to reconvene next week and see what you come back with. But you need to fix this, Caleb, ASAP. We can’t afford for our reputation to be damaged any further. No more protests or flash mobs.”

“Just give me your approval next week, and I promise you, all this will go away,” I tell him.

CHAPTER 16

APRIL

Ihang up for the fourth time this morning.

Who would have thought one small flash mob would go viral?

Social media is lapping it up, especially since Samuel leaked the story behind it.

The City’s Golden Boy Meets His Match

Although I’m not sure that is the case.

The first reporter I talked to was, without a doubt,Camp Caleb. She wanted to disprove everything I said. When I mentioned my tenancy had expired, she couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. Not that it stopped the red top papers. But then again, they’re always looking for salacious gossip. They want some sordid love triangle between me and Caleb’s latest supermodel. I wonder what they’d think if they knew he’s already been there. Fortunately, being in New York meant there was no video footage or at least none that anyone would think to search for.

I groan when my phone rings again. I need to be getting ready for class. At this rate, I’ll be switching the damn thing off. I look down and see Di’s name flash up on the screen.

Why’s my foster mum calling me? It’s not our usual day.

I answer in a heartbeat.

“Di?” I say.

“Morning April. How are you?” Her calm voice instantly soothes me.

I lived with Di and her husband, Julian, from age twelve. They were foster parent set number four. My previous family, decided it was not for them after only six months. The two before that I lived with for three years a piece, but they had reached retirement age and wanted to travel.

Who could blame them?

I did.