Charity Case Book Novels & Stories

she asks, making me nod. “Ah yes,” I sigh dramatically, trying to feign some sort of sorrow. “ I did hear about the tragic case, very sad.” “Oh please,” Clarissa laughs. “That bitch deserved what she got and her useless husband too. I always thought he didn't deserve to be Alpha, a rat would have been more deserving and as far as Charity goes, I'm not over the glue situation at camp.” I let out a laugh, she and her never did get along, Charity was a snob. Even as a kid, she was clearly an entitled future bitch of a Barbie wife.“Well, whoever did the job deserves a Grammy and a high five that's for sure.”

Janet stood behind all of them, and when the reporter on the TV began to interview someone, she abruptly turned and headed towards the entrance, spotting Charlotte. "Welcome back, your royal highness," she said, walking past her. Her father's girls' charity operated with that bank. Thankfully, Charlotte had all her money in a savings account, and that was insured by the FDIC. But the charity... its assets were in bonds. And that wasn't insured.

“You have?” I nodded eagerly. “When I was in university, one of my lecturers used your keynote address at the Global Children’s Development Summit as a case study.” Her eyebrows rose at my words. But I continued nonetheless. “I’ve also read your articles on sustainable community education and your foundation’s rural literacy projects. And that one thing you said that real charity isn’t measured by the size of the donation, but by how many lives never have to ask for help…it was heartwarming…” I stopped myself to take a breath, realizing I had said too much too fast. And she looked too stunned and speechless for a moment before she let out a genuine laugh.

I flip through them slowly, methodically, scanning for anything that ties this firm to the Bainbridge orbit. Halfway through the stack, I find it. An invoice on a thin, fading letterhead, billed to a Bainbridge-connected charity. One I vaguely remember reading about in a Tribune piece years ago. It was a glossy, high-society endeavor, all cocktail fundraisers and red-carpet photo ops, and then, suddenly, gone. Shut down within months, with no explanation. The invoice is for “strategic consultation,” a bland catchall, but the amount is significant. The date jumps out at me. Three weeks before the charity dissolved.

Every evening, I collapsed into bed mentally exhausted but weirdly satisfied. I chose a clean, elegant theme for the event. Nothing too loud. Nothing too childish. Just warm, thoughtful, intentional. Books displayed beautifully. Reading corners. Sponsor banners that didn’t look embarrassing. Refreshments simple but polished. Even the invitation list took me almost two hours because apparently, when rich people do charity, half the work is deciding which version of wealth should witness it. And somehow, through all of it, I didn’t hear a word from Dave. Not one. No call.

he asks filled with boredom. “Of course, it’s YES Mr. Bailey. How can I say No to such an offer.” “Alright.” He hands her a key. Charlie giddily reaches for it. “That is the key to the mini library. Once again, let me tell you about the task. This is a passion project by someone who wants to keep it anonymous. You’ll need to sell the books, set up a bid online perhaps or set the displays on the physical store. A fourth of the profit will serve as your commission, while the rest will be sent as a donation to charity for kids who will need to go to school but cannot afford it. Every month, the owner of the books would like to hold an auction of some of the best books they have. They’d like for

CHARITY 'I'M REALLY sorry things turned out this way. I tried my best to get Genevieve to sign you some sort of testimonial so you could be able to secure a job at some other company in the city but she wouldn't have it. Your portfolio and of course your award should be able to get you a job somewhere else but I guess not in this city anymore. I transferred money that should be enough to secure you another job, let's say my way of apologizing. Trust me when I say you’re a great person, I had fun with you. Goodbye, miss Everton"

"Not a denial. I don't want us touching the accusations directly. I want a statement that makes the accusations irrelevant." "Go on." "Lead with the gala. The cause, the organizations we're supporting, the specific work. I want the beneficiaries named and I want their impact numbers, how many families served, how many women placed in employment programs, how many successful legal aid cases. Make the charity the story, not the marriage." "That redirects the narrative but doesn't address the questions about Mrs. Blackwood specifically."

Seeing him twenty-four-seven was just something I could not and would not do. I was currently at the office, documenting some files for Dimitri before we make our way to another meeting. There is a charity event coming up, and since the date had been decided for the event, he has been getting meetings nonstop with clients who want to be a part of the event. Usually, they would come in as a form of bribery during big cases that are going on where they are against the public for a lawsuit. Attending the charity event for them and donating would only be a ploy to gain the favor of the public and maybe have lawsuits dropped against them.

She looked at both of them, then turned away with a sniff that might have been emotion disguised as disapproval. Elaine opened another record. “Here. Legal clinic archive. A complaint was submitted regarding interference with charitable support obligations.” Daniel moved closer. “By Julian Reed?” “The visible index says J. Reed prepared the complaint. It was reviewed by supervising counsel and dismissed before escalation.” “Reason?” Elaine read silently first. Her expression hardened. “Elaine,” Daniel said. She looked up. “Dismissed for lack of beneficiary confirmation and concerns regarding beneficiary communication reliability.” The room went cold.