Page 81 of Faking It With My Pucking Protector

Chapter Twenty-Three

AVA

Iwake to soft light filtering through the curtains, the kind that tells me I’ve slept later than I meant to. I lay there, caught in that soft, blurry space where last night still lingers. Jackson’s game, the win, the noise of the arena still echoing in my bones.

But reality slides in quickly. I have a meeting with my team to address the fallout from Brad’s pullback and figure out how we’ll stay afloat without the funding.

Grabbing my laptop, I head downstairs to make coffee. The clock reads just past eight. I must’ve slept through the morning rush. Miss Taylor’s already taken the boys to school, and Jackson left for practice. Thirty minutes later, my laptop camera blinks to life, and faces start popping up across the screen.

Jenna’s first, a huge mug in hand, hair pulled into a messy bun.

One by one, the rest of my team joins. Kim, our development director; Evelyn, who handles outreach; Drew from marketing.

I explain what happened with Brad. By the time I finish, everyone looks grim.

“So petty, right?” Jenna mutters.

Kim frowns. “We need to reassure the smaller donors fast. If they think we’re in trouble…”

“We won’t let this derail everything,” I say firmly.

“Damn right we’re not,” Jenna says.

I take a breath, scanning their faces. “Here’s the plan. We launch a public-facing campaign this week. We highlight impact stories: families served, kids reached, real outcomes. We want current donors and potential ones to see the value, loud and clear.”

Drew nods. “I can draft the messaging today.”

I nod, jotting a note. “Let’s keep our community events rolling: the bookmobile stops, the after-school workshops, all of it. We can’t afford to lose momentum on the ground.”

Evelyn nods. “I’ll handle it. We’ve got a strong volunteer crew lined up through next month. I’ll make sure everything stays on schedule.”

I’m scribbling notes when it hits me. We don’t just need to patch the gap.

We need to show we’re moving forward. Stronger. Louder.

“One more thing.”

My fingers hesitate on the keyboard. Then I look up.

“I want to put on a fundraising gala.”

Jenna’s brows lift. “You mean like black tie, auction, the works?”

“Yes.” My voice steadies. “Something big that says we’re not just surviving, we’rethriving. We’ll use it to attract new donors and make a statement.”

Kim nods slowly. “It’s exactly the kind of move that will send the right message.”

“I’ll start brainstorming venues,” Evelyn says. “And potential sponsors.”

“Now that’s the Ava I know.” Jenna grins. “Aim high. Swing big.”

The energy on the call shifts. It’s stronger now, charged with something close to excitement.

We’re not playing defense anymore.

We’re writing the next chapter ourselves.

After the call, I close the laptop and sit back.