Page 68 of Trap ’N’ Trace

“We don’t normally allow outsiders to attend board meetings,” the man said. “Perhaps you’d be more comfortable waiting outside.”

“Perhaps I would, but I’ll be staying right here. Thank you for the kind offer.”

“I don’t think you understand—”

“I understand perfectly.” Dayne tugged his cell from his belt, preparing to fill the time catching up on emails. “Pretend I’m not here.”

“Ernst,” Kat intervened from her presiding position at the table. “I’m quite certain he won’t divulge any confidential matters we discuss here today.”

With an audible grumble, Ernst turned and took the seat to Kat’s right. Apparently, Ernst was accustomed to getting his way.

He opened up the first of many emails from Paulson, the one concerning Becca’s Facebook business account.

“The monthly meeting of the Vandenburg Enterprises charity board is called to order,” Ernst announced. “There are five charities on the agenda for our review.”

Kat flipped open a bound document, as did everyone else. “Are the two I specifically wanted included in this list?”

“Yes, however only one of them meets our guidelines,” Ernst said. “Vets of Valor didn’t make the cut.”

“Why not?” Kat’s brows rose. Yeah, why not? Even Dayne had heard that was a good charity. “I recommended that organization myself. They had excellent prospects for approval. Their program and mission were very well articulated, and their preliminary budget sheet looked good, especially their overhead ratio.”

You go, girl.

Ernst set down his booklet. “They were unable to provide a well-defined method of measuring their overall success.”

“Did they give us a description of their long- and short-term goals?” She turned the page. “I see they did.”

This was a side of Miss Katrina Vandenburg’s persona he hadn’t known existed. The kick-ass side.

“Yes.” Ernst tugged off his glasses. “But they failed to provide a method detailing how they plan to measure the success of their program.”

“Then we’ll ask them to rework their proposal for consideration next month.” Kat picked up a pen and jotted something down.

“Katrina.” Ernst’s patently false smile and placating tone made Dayne want to tell the man where to shove it. It was as if the guy were talking to a small child. “There are several other more worthy charities on our agenda this month. The one on page two, for example. Books for Bairns. They have an extremely articulate proposal that meets all our guidelines.”

Kat took a moment to review the document, then for the next ten minutes listened patiently while Ernst sang the charity’s praises. Dayne had to admit it also sounded like a worthy cause. Kat set the agenda on the table, clasping her hands on top of the document.

Sorry, Ernst. Looks like you’re not getting your way today. Yeah, he knew her well enough to decipher her body language. She wasn’t buying it. More to the point, she knew Ernst was trying to bully her, and in classic, composed Kat fashion, she was about to put the guy in his place. Politely, of course.

“This is an extremely comprehensive proposal. So comprehensive, in fact, it’s almost as if it was written by one of our board members.” She paused to look around the table. Sure enough, one of the younger board members slunk in his chair, looking guilty as hell. “While it does appear to meet our guidelines,” Kat continued, “and it is certainly a worthy cause, aren’t we already donating to at least two other charities with nearly identical programs and mission statements?”

“Why, yes, but—”

“And isn’t this charity chaired by the mayor’s wife?” All eyes turned to Ernst.

“Katrina.” Ernst held out his arms. “Your parents always believed that the key to success in New York City lay in maintaining appropriate liaisons with key people in government. The city’s First Lady is a critical component of—”

“Let me be clear here,” Kat interrupted. “While I’d love nothing more than to see my parents seated at this table, we both know that isn’t possible. And while I don’t particularly feel the need to say it, I will anyway. My parents entrusted the future of this company into my hands.”

Dayne smirked. This was getting good.

“Furthermore,” she continued, “pandering to government officials, or their wives, is not our priority now, nor will it ever be. What is our priority—is diversification. I want Vandenburg Enterprises to donate across all lines of society.

“One area we’re severely behind in is military veteran programs. Frankly, I can’t believe we aren’t stronger in this category. That’s why I suggested Vets of Valor.” Ernst opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. “Mario.” She turned to the man seated to her left. “Please reach out to their chairperson and courteously suggest they revise their proposal so it better meets our guidelines. Be sure to outline our area of concern. Give them a two-week deadline so it can be ready for next month’s meeting.”

“Yes, Miss Vandenburg.”

He liked this side of her. Not only did the woman know her shit, but she put that pompous old fart in his place without missing a beat. He was torn between clapping, doing a hoo-yah fist pump, and giving her a high five.