CHAPTER 105: The Gala

POV: Selene Castellano

The foundation's first big fundraising event was held on a Friday.

This wasn't just any ordinary gathering, it was a high-end event where the city's elite came together, dressed to impress, and opened their wallets to make substantial donations, all while anticipating a meaningful experience in return.

Selene had been dreading it for two weeks.

She wasn't nervous about the work itself, she knew it inside out and could discuss it effortlessly. What made her anxious was the social aspect of evenings like this, where there were unspoken rules to follow and people she didn't particularly care for. The worst part was playing the role of Avalon Pierce's wife, putting on a performance for a room full of people who had preconceived notions about what that meant. It was exhausting, trying to live up to their expectations, and she felt like she was losing herself in the process. The thought of being judged and scrutinized by others was overwhelming, and she wished she could just be herself, without the burden of being someone's wife.

As she stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair, he suddenly showed up in the doorway of the bedroom, catching her off guard.

Dark jacket. No tie. The particular version of himself he deployed for evenings that required presence without effort.

He looked at her.

She was in the green dress.

“You’re wearing that,” he said.

“I’m wearing this.”

“To a black tie fundraiser.”

“It’s not black tie.”

“It’s adjacent to black tie.”

She put on her earrings and turned to him. "Is everything okay?" she asked, noticing the concerned look on his face. "You seem a bit off," she added, trying to sound casual. "What's going on?"

His eyes lingered on hers, holding her gaze for a beat too long, as if searching for something, or maybe just savoring the moment.

“No,” he said. “ No problem.”

The place was an old warehouse, located south of Market, but you could tell someone had put a lot of cash into making it look all rundown and neglected, like it had just been left to decay.

Selene walked in beside Avalon and felt the room shift the way rooms shifted when he entered them.

People turned.

Not at her but at him.

Then at her.

Then the specific recalibration of people deciding what to make of both of them together.

She had gotten used to navigating those moments of change without letting on that she'd even picked up on them.

James found them within minutes.

"He leaned in close to Avalon and whispered, 'The Hendersons have arrived, they're sitting at table four.' He paused for a moment, then added, 'They've been searching for a way to get involved with the foundation for months now, so this could be the opportunity we've been waiting for.'"

“I’ll go to them,” Avalon said.

“After the opening remarks,” Selene said.

Both men looked at her.

"We're going to present together, first," she said, looking at Avalon. "And then we'll work the room, as a team." She emphasized the last word, her eyes locked on Avalon's, making sure they were on the same page. "Together, we'll make this happen."

“Okay,” he agreed.

She noticed the slightest hint of a smile on James' face, just a tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth.

The opening remarks were hers.

It wasn't until that morning that she had let Avalon in on a little secret. Up until then, he had just assumed they were in this together, that they would be sharing the credit for their work. But she had quickly set him straight, her words firm and clear. The foundation, she had told him, was hers and hers alone - she was the one who would be presenting it to the world, and he would just be standing there beside her, putting on a show of support, making it look like he believed in it too.

He’d looked at her for a long moment.

I do believe in it, he’d said.

Then it should be easy, she’d said.

Standing at the podium now she understood why she’d needed it to be hers.

Not to prove anything to him but to prove something to herself.

She looked at the room. At two hundred people in good clothes holding drinks and waiting to be convinced of something.

She thought about Susan Park and infrastructure. About Kevin Walsh and forty two young people. About David Torres saying dignity was someone asking and then actually listening.

She put down the notes she’d prepared and spoke without them.

She talked for eight minutes.

It's not really about the numbers or the structure of the organization, or even how the foundation is run.

But about  a question written in a dead woman’s board notes fifteen years ago and what it meant to build something toward an answer rather than away from a problem.

The room was very quiet.

When she finished she didn’t wait for applause.

Just stepped back from the podium and found Avalon’s eyes across the room.

He was looking at her the way he looked at her when something got through.

The unguarded version with his father’s laugh on his face.

The Hendersons found them.

Richard Henderson was sixty something. Old San Francisco money with the confidence of a man who had never been in a room where he didn’t belong and had stopped noticing that privilege decades ago.

He shook Avalon’s hand and the  turned to Selene.

He thought it was really something. The question part was what caught his attention. But whose question was it to begin with, he wondered.

“My husband’s grandmother,” Selene said. “ Lorraine Pierce.”

Henderson looked at Avalon.

“She built something,” Henderson said.

“She did,” Avalon said.

“And now you’re finishing it.”

Selene spoke up, "We're going to keep going with it. I think there's a difference that needs to be considered."

Henderson looked at her.

Something shifted in his expression.

Respect arriving. 

He said his wife had been searching for a cause to really get behind something that truly mattered. "Something real," he added, glancing at them both. Then he smiled, seeming to suggest that she might have finally found what she was looking for.

An hour into the evening Selene stepped outside.

Just for five minutes.

She stood in the cold air and felt the adrenaline of the podium leaving her body.

Footsteps behind her.

She turned expecting Avalon.

It wasn’t Avalon.

Claire Whitfield was just a few feet away, wearing a black dress, and she had this look on her face that suggested she could really use some fresh air, you know, just a few minutes outside to clear her head.

They looked at each other.

“The remarks were extraordinary,” Claire said.

“Thank you for coming,” Selene said.

A pause.

Not uncomfortable.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Claire said.

“Ask.”

She stopped for a moment, looking at Selene with a serious expression. "We're talking about the foundation, and the community legal services part of it," she said. "The thing is, you don't have a legal partner lined up yet." She took a deep breath before continuing. "For the past three years, I've been running pro bono clinics on my own, without any real organizational backing." Her eyes locked onto Selene's. "I think it's time for that to change," she said, her voice filled with conviction. "I'd like to suggest a formal partnership between us - something that could really make a difference in the community."

Selene looked at her and asked for the proposal to be sent over, explaining that Amara would be the one reviewing all of the applications that came in."

“Of course.”

“But Claire.”

“Yes.”

"Go ahead and send it on Monday, I'll make sure she takes a look at it as soon as possible."

Claire held her gaze for a moment.

“Thank you,” she said.

She went back inside.

Avalon appeared thirty seconds later.

He stood beside her.

“I saw her come out,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay.”

“She wants to propose a formal legal services partnership.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“What did you say?”

“I told her to send the proposal Monday.”

He looked at her profile.

“Selene.”

Selene spoke up, "She's really good at her job, and the foundation could really use her skills." She gazed out at the city, her eyes narrowing slightly as she added, "I'm not going to let your past get in the way of something that could be really beneficial."

He said nothing for a moment.

Then: “You’re extraordinary.”

“I know,” she said simply.

He laughed.

She turned and looked at him in the cold outside air. At the man who had told her not to give his uncle a bullet on the first night of their marriage. At everything between that moment and this one.

"Come on," she said, "the Hendersons are ready to pay up."

She went back inside while he followed right behind.