“Lukas,” Lisa said brightly. “This is Rebecca Mills.”
I got smoothly to my feet and did up my suit jacket. Moving out from behind my desk, I extended my hand to shake Rebecca’s. She had a firm, confident grip, dark and calculating eyes, and a red smile. She was an attractive woman, but she also exuded “don’t mess with me” energy. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight and severe bun. Her cheekbones were as sharp as the tips of her pointed red nails.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Holt,” Rebecca said with a silky voice. “I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me. Lisa says you’re a hard man to keep company with.”
I shot my sister a look. “I hope she didn’t tell you too much about me.”
Rebecca laughed lightly and shook her head. “No, not at all. I prefer to hold out until the interview process.”
I invited her to sit down. Rebecca sat, placed her purse on the floor between her feet, and fished a notebook and pen out of the bag.
Meanwhile, Lisa came and gave me a hug. When her cheek passed my ear, she whispered to me. “Follow my lead. This is what you pay me for.”
I nodded and Lisa stepped back to walk behind Rebecca’s chair and sit down beside her. I took my seat behind the desk and leaned back.
Lisa smiled. “I know you’ve been busy Lukas, so I’ll refresh your memory. Rebecca is the journalist I told you about. She won a Pulitzer for her piece on oil executives and their reactions to climate change. Quite impressive.”
“Quite,” I agreed.
Rebecca smiled graciously at us. “We’re not here to talk about my credentials. Besides, I’m changing focus from oil and energy to tech industries. I was intrigued by your offer about the series of interviews revolving around your foray into philanthropy. I think there’s a really big niche for that right now. It will garner interest. I’m sure of it. The public is craving someone they can latch onto who will restore their faith in humanity a little bit. If I’m being honest, I’m looking for that too. The world is an ever-darkening place.”
My gaze slid to my sister. A series of interviews? This was the first I was hearing about a series.
How many of these interviews were scheduled? Didn’t Lisa know I hardly had time for the one sit-down appointment with Rebecca? So little time, in fact, that I’d forgotten about said appointment?
I massaged my temple and willed my headache to go away. It didn’t listen. “A series of interviews,” I mused, trying to appear informed in front of Rebecca and accusatory in front of my sister. It was a fine line to walk, but based on the way Lisa scowled at me, I assumed she got the hint.
Before I could say more, my sister cut me off. “Yes, a series of interviews. Don’t you remember when we talked about your plan to document your introduction to charitable giving with Good Fellows?”
I let my hand fall from my temple. Good Fellow’s. Kayla’s Good Fellow’s?
I had agreed to no such terms.
“Good Fellow’s is a great operation,” Rebecca said. “I’ve heard nothing but positive things about it. It’s small, so I suppose I haven’t heard much about it at all. But I’m looking forward to changing that. What made you choose Good Fellow’s?”
I blinked impassively at the journalist.
Lisa crossed one leg over the other and turned herself a little to Rebecca. “Lukas wanted to join forces with a non-profit that worked at the ground level. He had so many opportunities to choose from that it was almost overwhelming. We sifted through everything, and when we came across Good Fellow’s, it became obvious that it was the place we could make the most positive change.”
One of Rebecca’s dark eyebrows arched as she scrawled in her notebook. Presumably, she was writing what Lisa had said on my behalf.
I studied my sister as she continued speaking.
“Lukas is excited to jump into this new journey. He’s very passionate about helping people and giving back to his community. Timing has never been better. After laying a foundation for the past several years, he’s ready to get centered, put on an apron, and get to work.”
Put on an apron? Who did my sister take me for?
Rebecca Mills asked about ten questions, all of which my sister answered gracefully. She spoke highly of me—too highly—and by the time the forty-five minutes appointment slot expired, Rebecca seemed ready to put a pin in things. She got to her feet, smoothed out her skirt, and collected her purse from the floor. She kept her notebook clutched in one hand as I stood and leaned across the desk to shake her hand once more.
“It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Holt,” Rebecca said. “I look forward to sitting down to ask you more questions and hearing answers in your own words next time.”
Lisa turned bright pink beside the journalist.
“Thank you for your time,” I managed to say as I kept my irritation in check.
Rebecca exited my office and I buzzed my assistant to see her out. As soon as I knew the coast was clear and Lisa and I were alone, I rounded on her.
“What the hell are you playing at, Lisa?”
My sister stepped back and her eyebrows pinched together. “What am I doing? I’m saving your reputation, you ungrateful brat. I knew you would never agree to the interviews if I told you ahead of time, so I did my job, Lukas. You need me. You hired me to help you. And that’s what I’m doing.”
I waved her off. “You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion. If you insist on philanthropy, I can have my accountant cut you a check and you can handle things. How much do
