(Zara)
The donors turned out to be the easy part.
I'd braced for a room full of people looking through me, wondering what a marketing coordinator was doing on the floor of their gala, and instead I found them curious. They wanted to hear about the campaign. They liked that the person explaining it was the one who'd built it. Twice I looked up mid sentence to find Marcus watching from across the room, drink in hand, and both times I finished my point without losing the thread, and both times he was the one who looked away first.
Mia worked the room beside me like she'd been born to it, steering donors toward me, steering me toward the good ones, making sure I ate something off a passing tray. For a while the whole night felt like the plan we'd made in the fitting room. A dress. A party.
