Chapter 21
In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
It had become a mantra, and an effective one at that. Whenever she felt a tinge of stress, she put her mind on her breathing. It took her out of her mind and into her body. She felt the carpeted floor beneath her feet, the florescent lights above her head, the slight pinch of her control top pantyhose…
"You have nothing to be worried about, Christine." Marie walked with her into the conference room. "I've reviewed that slide deck tooth and nail. The numbers line up perfectly, and you know them better than anyone in our organization."
Christine nodded absentmindedly. Something had happened in the last few months. She had grown into her voice in more ways than one. The idea of presenting was no longer as terrifying as it had been. She was still nervous, but she focused on her breathing and on the muscle memory of her knowledge. She felt ready to speak.
"And I'm behind you if you need me." Mindy commented in a wicked singsong from behind them.
Christine narrowed her eyes. If Mindy was behind her it was usually with a knife in hand. Mindy had been none too pleased when she found out Christine had allowed the volunteers in to watch the show. Mindy couldn't even bring it up with Marie as Marie was the one who suggested it as a way to get more help for the event. In addition, the volunteers had all behaved beautifully. Mindy and Christine both knew that the point of that power play was to make Christine look bad at the end of the evening if the volunteers revolted and everything went to hell. Since that time, Mindy had been oddly solicitous. Christine didn't buy it for a second. Christine triple checked any numbers that Mindy supplied. The result was that her workload was doubled, and she started drinking caffeine again. Coffee never tasted so good.
A board meeting was also an event at the opera house, though far less grand than a fundraiser. In attendance were ten board members and key staff members who would present on topics relating to operations of the opera. Most attended in person though a handful, Erik Gardner most importantly, joined remotely.
A catered lunch had been laid out for attending members with wait staff folding napkins into intricate shapes. Sparkling water with lemon filled the goblets on the table. Christine would be seated in the rear with Mindy. Marie filled in as lead of the meeting as Erik appointed her to do so. The bi-annual board meeting usually lasted two to three hours. There was a discussion of the health of the endowment, followed by discussion of the upcoming season, community outreach and finally results of fundraising activities. Christine's review of the masquerade would close out the meeting.
The sideboard had been covered with a buffet of food options including Salmon in a Beurre Blanc sauce, Chicken Marsala and Pasta Primavera. The smell of the salmon was making her somewhat queasy, so Christine skipped eating and sipped at the sparkling water in front of her. She winced at the taste. She'd never liked sparkling water, but she hoped it would settle her stomach.
"We're pleased to see that the endowment did not struggle with the recent decline in the stock market. Our current split focuses on conservative investments in private equity and bonds. More recently we have experimented with a 10% diversification into ETFs. This is atypical with our endowment model but will allow greater return in the long term as interest rates come down."
"We seem to be somewhat heavy in cash right now, have we considered interviewing new hedge fund managers so that the cash is put to some use?" An older woman in the back dressed in head to toe Chanel suggested.
"Yes, the cash on hand came from a recent disbursement from one of our investments. I have shared with you all our current analysis of different options. We will review those and vote on them later."
Christine enjoyed seeing Marie in charge. She imagined what it would be like when she was more established in her career, able to manage meetings with such calm confidence. The idea was exciting. In two weeks, the recruitment process would begin. She had already sent her resume to Philip Cantor, and he had responded warmly. It was a good sign.
She shifted somewhat, feeling oddly restless. Her heart beat was faster than normal. Perhaps it was the coffee? Erik has told her caffeine was a no no and she had taken a sort of perverse pleasure in resuming its intake.
In through the nose, out through the mouth.
He would be watching her today. The thought made her squirm as she thought back to the night of the gala. What would have happened if she hadn't told him to stop? She felt blood rush to her cheeks and the back of her neck.
She drank more water, refilling from the personal bottle seated at her spot at the table. The artistic director, Andrew Feuer, spoke next.
"Several of the attendees at the gala came up to say how much they enjoyed Taylor Lipa's performance from the more modern Faust. I wanted to suggest we sponsor a limited run of performances of the group from the Nashville Opera group to coincide with the spring season. Perhaps we could even do an artist exchange – providing them with a limited run of one of our productions."
"That is not traditional opera!" Georgiana Crown interjected. "Let the Broadway crowd have their rock opera. We can restage Gounod's version."
"Why can't we do both?" Dr. Mitchell Yoon suggested. "I was one of the donors who enjoyed the performance and I have since downloaded the concept album. I think of Randy Newman as our own American Gounod."
"It would bring a lot of publicity…" Christine offered and then swallowed a gasp. She should not have added anything. She was not supposed to talk at the meeting outside of her presentation. Mindy gave her a sharp look with an accompanying shake of her head.
"There is that as well," Dr. Yoon offered, ignoring the awkward interjection. "Given how successful the gala was when attached to Ms. Lipa's name, this could further that relationship."
"I agree, Mitch." Erik added on the screen, and everyone stared at the phantom voice coming from the speaker phone. "We can even create a studio album with the singers, partnering with Borderline records. Perhaps Ms. Lipa would be willing to record that song for the album."
Christine felt herself get agitated as her memory fell back into that dance with him. The romantic lyrics were so in conflict with the turmoil of that meeting. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She could feel her heart racing wildly and for once she could not settle it.
"If they are willing to collaborate with us, I think this can be a great way to engage with our youth outreach as well." This was said by the community outreach director Theresa Morton. "We could involve with local schools."
"I think we agree that the potential upset for both fundraising, publicity and community engagement is high. If this is coming to a vote, I vote Aye." Dr. Yoon said.
Christine could barely focus as the vote was taken on the Faust suggestion and also on other matters relating to finance. Theresa's presentation on community outreach was brief and Christine struggled to keep up. She would be called up next. Her hands were shaking, and she grabbed the bottom of the chair, willing her body to be still.
"Finally, I am very happy to bring up our Foundation Assistant, Christine Derring. Miss Derring has been with us for just under two years while she completes her MBA at Columbia University. Her understanding of ROI is the best I've seen in my career. In addition, it was her idea to develop the relationship with Miss Lipa."
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Christine could barely hear Marie's words over her rapidly escalating heartbeat and harsh breathing. Everything seemed far away as she stood from her spot in the rear of the room. She stumbled as she walked forward, seeming to have lost control of her feet.
"Are you okay?" Marie put a hand on her shoulder, holding her up slightly. Christine could see her lips moving but could not make out the words. She shook her head at Marie in confusion. What was wrong with her?
She turned back at the table, faceless men in suits and women in sheath dresses and cardigans stared back with concerned looks. Did Mindy arch her eyebrow?
"What did you do?" She whispered. At least she thought she whispered. She couldn't hear anything besides the rushing in her ears.
"Marie, I think I need…"
The world altered, there was no other word for it. She was falling backward on the ground looking up while her body began a series of rhythmic contractions and movements of which she had no control. She couldn't make her mouth cooperate to ask for help, but she felt when a pair of kind hands rested on her arms.
"Christine! Christine!"
So far away and getting further. The room was dim now. That meant it was nighttime, right? That meant it was time to go to sleep. Blackness enveloped her and she knew no more.
Erik watched as every member of the board was on their feet. Dr. Yoon, a well-known ENT doctor, rushed to Christine's prone body.
"Get an ambulance!" Erik yelled over the zoom channel. He had never felt so incompetent, so very far away. "What the hell is happening?" His view on the camera was obstructed by the people standing over her. Was she breathing? He couldn't see her chest. Her feet were still moving erratically.
"She's having a seizure." Dr. Yoon took off his suit jacket and placed it under her head and turned her on her side. "Marie, does she have epilepsy?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"For Gods sake, someone call 911!" Erik shouted over the speakerphone. Marie looked at Dr. Yoon who nodded.
"Hello 911, we have an emergency. We need an ambulance the Gardner Opera." Marie spoke clearly to the operator. Erik could see Dr. Yoon counting to himself, marketing the longevity of the seizure. It was the longest minutes of his life as Christine's convulsions slowly ceased.
"She's unconscious. Marie, Mindy – do you know if she is on any medications?"
"I've never asked." Mindy responded. She seemed, flustered, defensive. She stood against the wall, her arms wrapped around body. "Is she going to be okay?"
Dr. Yoon was feeling her pulse. "Her pulse is racing, she could have tachycardia. We should get her to Columbia Presbyterian. I have admitting privileges there."
Columbia Presbyterian. That's all Erik needed to hear.
"Garret," he called on his phone. "Get the car right now. We need to get to the hospital."
If he realized that the entire board heard him bark the order, he didn't care.