A Cowboy in Manhattan(65)
Reed would leave New York City. He’d do it quickly and quietly and without bothering Katrina again. But there was one thing he had to take care of first. And Elizabeth Jeril was the person to help him.
At the Liberty Ballet administration offices, she closed her door and gestured to one of the guest chairs in front of her maple-wood desk. “My receptionist just warned me you were dangerous.”
“Was she at the party?” Reed was sorry his behavior had marred the event. But he wasn’t sorry he’d confronted Foster. He’d done what he had to do.
Elizabeth laughed, rounding her desk. “She heard the story this morning. Everybody in Manhattan heard the story this morning.”
Reed waited for her to sit. “I have a hard time believing it was that interesting.”
She plunked down on the padded burgundy leather chair, definitely seeming more amused than angry. “Most exciting fundraiser I’ve ever attended.”
Reed took his seat. “Sorry about that.”
She waved a dismissive hand. “Not to worry.”
Fair enough. He’d forget the party and get straight to the point. “I need a favor, Elizabeth.”
She squared her shoulders and folded her hands on the desktop. “What kind of a favor?”
“I need Quentin Foster out of Katrina’s life forever.”
Elizabeth’s brows knitted in obvious confusion.
“And that means I need him out of Liberty Ballet forever.”
She began shaking her head. “Reed, it’s not going to be possible for me—”
“How much?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
“How much will it take to get rid of Foster?”
Elizabeth blinked.
“I have a proposal for you.” Reed saw no point in *footing around. “I’m prepared to set up a foundation for the benefit of the Liberty Ballet Company. The endowment would provide stable funding to the organization into perpetuity.”
He tightened his grip on the arms of the chair. “My only condition is that Quentin Foster is immediately kicked off the board of directors, banned from ever contributing to Liberty Ballet, and banned from ever attending any of their fundraisers. If I thought I could keep him from buying tickets, I would ask for that, too.”
Elizabeth’s gaze probed Reed’s expression for a long minute. “What did he do?”
“Nothing that’s provable.”
Her eyes narrowed.
Reed didn’t blame her for being confused, even suspicious. He made up his mind to put all his cards on the table. “I tell you this in confidence, and only to protect Katrina. I couldn’t care less about that jackal. Foster wanted to sleep with her, and when she turned him down, he pressured her again. Then the cables appeared and her shoe malfunctioned, and he was pivotal in replacing her other shoes before anyone could look at them. I warned him off at the party Saturday, but I don’t trust him. I can’t trust him. I need him gone.”
Elizabeth came halfway out of her chair. “Are you kidding me?”
“I am not.”
“He used his access to the company as a board member to solicit sex with a dancer?”
“Yes,” Reed answered shortly.
Elizabeth reached for her phone. “I’ll turf him for that alone.”
“That doesn’t solve the money issue.”
She paused with her hand on the receiver. “No, it doesn’t solve the money issue. But I’m not throwing Katrina to the wolves for any amount of money.”
“Put down the phone.”
“But—”
“Elizabeth, I can solve the money issue.”
She looked genuinely sympathetic. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”
“Why do people keep doubting me? I’m not a rocket scientist, but I do manage to clothe and feed myself on a daily basis. I’m aware of what I’m offering.”
“Reed.”
“Ten million dollars.”
Elizabeth’s jaw went lax.
“The Sasha Terrell Endowment Fund will start with ten million dollars in seed money.”
“Who is Sasha Terrell?”
Reed couldn’t help but grin. “That’s your question?”
“That’s my first question.”
He softened his tone. “My mother.”
Elizabeth nodded, then she nodded again, then she blinked rather rapidly. “That’s nice. That’s very nice.”