a roses thorn

Chapter Seventeen

Kelia and Matty joined my parents at an auction today while I cleaned up the house and had a zoom call with my team with a cup of tea.

I had the afternoon to myself. I added a podcast interview with Emma Chamberlain and Choice magazine to my schedule this week to squeeze it in before we leave for Africa.

It's not about the money as to why I'm squeezing so much shit in my schedule. It's about getting as much awareness about this project of mine as I can. As I get closer to the date of my departure and I speak more of it I hope that I'll get more donations so I can get more of the shipments.

I put my heart and soul into the last two months of planning and spending money. I wanted to rebuild their destroyed church and remove debris from their crop fields. I want to build a trauma area that'll help with the ones who survived but were injured. I want build food shelters and give people clean water and enough calories to get them through the day.

I just want to help them regrow and help them get back to their everyday lives.

"How do you feel about this weeks schedule?" Jack held her puppy calendar that she keeps in her brief case. She didn't look up at the camera and flipped the pages. "Tomorrow we'll meet at SNL stage with Pete and Kim at three. The interview will go live at five and the broadcast will end at six. Have you reheard your lines?"

I nodded, rummaging through the ten packets sitting on top of my desk to look for the script. "I plan to do a little look over before I sign these documents and go to sleep."

"Perfect." She finally looked up from her book. "Once the show is finished, you'll meet Matty at Kim's for her celebration dinner that she's throwing you. That'll clear your schedule for tomorrow."

I slid my arm across the top of the desk and pushed all of the packets of paper onto the ground to look at my calendar with a pen in my hand.

I quickly wrote down the times and made sure that I was writing down the right events. "Okay. Monday?"

"Monday..." she glared at her calendar and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Monday we meet at Emma's house at noon for her Victorian Brunch podcast. Have you watched her podcast YouTube videos?"

"Of course I have." Some. I'm lying. I'm such a horrible person.

"So you know that you'll be discussing your movie and getting into your thoughts about the Victorian Era while sipping on English tea and biscuits with people dressed in Victorian maids outfits waiting on you?" she glared into the camera.

I nodded, "Believe me when I say that I can speak about the Victorian era for hours."

She raised an eyebrow and she sucked her teeth lightly. "She sent over the brunch menu. Looks like porridge with the option to add cinnamon. Fresh cut fruit. Fish with the options of mussels, oysters, eels, and whelks. Poached eggs and bacon. Any allergies that she should be aware of?"

I shook my head. "Sounds delightful. I can't wait." My mouth waters at the thought of oysters running down my throat. It tastes like fried chicken. I love it. I love seafood.

"You should be finished shooting before four where you'll head over to the office and choose which photos you'd like to be used for vogue magazine." I wrote as she spoke.

"Tuesday morning at nine sharp—we have a meeting with Choice magazine to decide what the plan is going to be for Saturday's shoot here at the office. You requested the afternoon off for personal time so you're clear for the evening after we finish with the meeting."

"Wednesday we meet with Netflix over Zoom at 11:30 in the morning to discuss what should be caught on camera and how the documentary is going to work. I had no idea how long the meeting was going to take so I left your afternoon open for the remainder of the day."