My stomach dropped to my feet. “What? Why?”
Axel cleared his throat, his jaw flexing. “A protest is forming at the main door.”
“A protest against…us?” I squeaked out.
Damian nodded while Axel sighed. “It’s some whacko Manhattan group. They’ve never targeted us before but…well, now they have.”
The words still didn’t make sense to me. “But…what are they even protesting?”
Damian and Axel shared a weary look. When Damian met my gaze, he looked haunted. “There were rumors that our business supports sex trafficking. It’s completely batshit, but it’s based on the fact that a company we acquired not so long agowasassociated with trafficking. We bought the company so we could put a stop to it.”
When I was unable to form a response, Axel spoke up. “They think they’re saving kids. They’re not. And now we have to figure out a way to get rid of them.”
Damian looked sullen, the same stress lines eating at his face as when I’d started working at Fairchild Enterprises.
“There is no way to get rid of them,” he muttered, swiping through his phone.
“Like hell there isn’t,” I told him. “Can’t we call the cops?”
“I’ve got Francis on the line,” Axel told us, phone pressed to his ear. “He’s in touch with legal. We’re exploring options.”
“They’re probably legally protected,” Damian said, his jaw flexing endlessly. “As long as they’re on sidewalks, I’d imagine it’s fine. Probably all they want is to get attention and to block people from entering our fundraiser.”
“Shit bricks,” I muttered, nibbling on my lip as Damian’s face went from sullen to dour. “There’s got to be something we can do.”
“Jessa, we might as well cancel,” Damian said in a low voice. “If people can’t come in, what’s the point?”
“Well, the point is…” My gaze drifted around the room, over all of the carefully curated opulence, the diamonds dripping from chandeliers, the fresh blooms tumbling from vases. This needed to be enjoyed. The Fairchilds needed to get the word out. “The point is that this is a setback. It’s not a dealbreaker. We can get through it.”
“That’s what you think,” Damian said quietly.
“It’s what Iknow,” I told him.
“This whole night is about reputation damage control,” he said, stepping closer. “What’s more damaging to our reputation than an active protest about sex trafficking allegations? They’ve got signs, Jessa. They’re not mincing words down there. They’ll tank the whole thing before it even gets started.”
His words sank into me, the gravity of his prediction feeling like the heaviest lead blanket. But I refused to surrender. They still had a fighting chance to turn things around, and I wasn’t going to let go of it.
I blinked rapidly, struggling to see pathways through the dark roadblocks. His words hung heavily in the air between us as an idea slowly gurgled to life inside me.
“What if we go…down there?” I said.
“And do what? Join them?”
I shook my head. “No. But you and I could be, like, the welcoming committee. Showing our faces despite the protest.” The idea was taking shape faster than I could spill it. “We could hire protection, so nothing happens. Bodyguards, whatever. And then we could stand out in front of the protesters and welcome each guest personally.”
Damian watched me curiously. Axel seemed to be tuning in, phone still pressed to his face.
“It wouldn’t be so dire. It would be more of a nuisance, really. And with us escorting each guest in individually, they won’t even get a chance to be pummeled by whatever bullshit they’re trying to say down there. We’d be the front-line receivers, let’s say.”
“You and Damian down there?” Axel asked, phone pulled away from his face.
“Yeah. Why not? I’m not afraid of some dumb protesters.”
The corner of Damian’s mouth started to curl. “Even protesters in New York? Jessa, it could get out of control. I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t even want you near the potential of getting hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt,” I said. “Because we’ll have big, beefy bodyguards that you can hire in the next thirty seconds because you are Damian Fairchild.”
He held my gaze, amusement swimming there.