“Probably too much red meat.”
We both chuckle at that. “Before we dive into work, how’s Lennon? And the baby?”
Something shifts in Pope’s expression, the faintest softening around his eyes. “Lennon's good. Middle school’s kicking his ass, but he’s holding his own. And Liesle isn't a baby anymore. She'll be five tomorrow.”
“Hard to believe they're already that old,” I say. “Five and Lennon must be twelve, right?”
“Thirteen next month.” Pope shakes his head, the edge of pride sneaking into his voice. “He’s taller than me already. Eats like a damn linebacker.”
I smile despite myself. “That's great, Pope. Glad to hear it.”
The moment passes. Pope’s focus sharpens again. “Now—about the board…”
"Of course. What's up?"
Pope doesn't waste time. "Remember when I said we might need you in the future for a community outreach initiative. Well, the future is now."
I take a sip of tea, watching him over the rim of myglass. When I put my glass down, I prepare myself for what he's about to propose.
"I'm listening."
"We're launching something new. Beyond the concierge care model." Pope leans forward, dropping his voice. "Free pediatric screenings. Mental health services for low-income families. My advisory board says we need real outreach that touches real people. We have the funds to do it."
Something stirs in my chest. The kind of work that made me choose family law instead of following the Carter path to corporate riches.
"You need legal oversight?"
"Possibly some of that. More than that, I need someone who understands both worlds. Someone with your connections in family services who can help us cut through red tape, but who also understands how the other half lives."
The dig at my family background isn't subtle. Pope knows my history.
"Do we have a plan, or is this still conceptual?"
"We just hired someone to see this through. She's a badass. Sharp as they come. She'll be the point person, and if you agree, you'll be the board chair for it."
I nod, curiosity piqued despite myself. "It sounds like something that would be a good outlet for me. I need something other than the courtroom."
"Fantastic. I know you guys have a quarterly board meeting on Friday. Plan on meeting with her to lay out an initial framework, and I'll leave it to you guys to decide on how to bring this to life."
Our food arrives. We eat efficiently, Pope checking his phone between bites. We drift back to family, and he catches me up on Sloane and the kids. It's amazing how quickly time flies.
The CHG Foundationboardroom is like every other boardroom I've ever been in: expensive, sterile, filled with the soft rustle of suits and the scent of ambition.
I slide into my usual seat, bracing for another mind-numbing presentation on quarterly metrics and projected growth.
Three seats down, Caleb Vance, Pope's number two, flips through papers, barely acknowledging the other board members filing in. The projector hums. Water glasses sweat onto polished coasters.
I check my watch. We've got two minutes until we start. I need to make sure to get back to the office for a meeting. Let's get this party started.
I uncap my pen, ready to make meaningless notes just to look engaged. The financial reports can wait until later, when I'm alone with my bottled water and my insomnia.
The door opens again. I don't look up immediately.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce our new Director of Community Health Initiatives."
Caleb’s voice snaps my attention to the front of the room.
My heart stops.