Donovan shook it. Donovan Price, old friend of Adriens's. He let the word old land where it wanted, and Terrence said nothing. He'd met men like Donovan before. Men who used courtesy as camouflage and whose compliments arrived preloaded with a secondary meaning.
The correct response was usually silence because silence gave them nothing to work with. Donovan turned back to Adrien. I heard about the campaign halt. Brave call. He said brave the way someone might say reckless.
I hope the board doesn't make it complicated for you. The board is aligned. Adrienne said, "Good, good." He smiled. I'd hate for something like this to become another Harbor Light situation.
The table nearest them had a brief lull in conversation. Donovan's timing was not accidental. Adrienne held his gaze. It won't. Donovan moved on smoothly without urgency as though the exchange had been a pleasantry rather than a warning.
Terrence watched him go. Then he looked at Adrien. Her expression was exposed. Her left hand at her side had closed into a loose fist. For the rest of the evening, Donovan circled.
He didn't return to them directly. He didn't need to. He told the story of the Harbor Light TA disaster twice in Terren's earshot. Once to a cluster of board adjacent donors, and once to the foundation's director of development. The story was smooth, well practiced, and completely sympathetic to Donovan.
According to him, a talented young director had been given too much responsibility too soon. She developed a personal attachment to the cause, which led to an emotional and unprofessional decision to sabotage a campaign that had taken months to build. The client relationship had almost collapsed. Donovan had stepped in to manage the fallout, salvage what he could, and protect the young woman from the worst consequences. He never said Adrienne's name directly.
He didn't have to. Everyone in that room knew who he was talking about. Adrienne didn't respond. She continued her conversations, held her ground at every table, and gave Donovan nothing to point at. Terrence understood the strategy.
Engaging would confirm the story. Silence was the only dignified option, but silence had a cost. He could see it accumulating. Across the room, Patricia Ames was watching Donovan's performance with an expression that was carefully neutral. The face of someone recording rather than reacting.
Near the end of the evening, a Foundation board member named Elliot Haynes pulled Adrienne aside briefly. "Terrence was close enough to hear." "Your guest tonight," Haynes said pleasantly. "He's from Oral." "He is," Adrienne said.