Let’s wind it down and plan on reconvening late next week for a debriefing so we can review the final totals from tonight’s charity gala at the clinic.” Eager to get home and indulge in a long, luxurious bath as well as some serious primp and polish time, Juliet responded to Pastor Gene Thomas’s decree like the twenty or so others who gathered around a conference table at a meeting room of Trinity Christian Church: she smiled his way then assembled her file folders, pen, and notepad into a neat stack to carry out to her car. Pastor Gene stilled their motions by continuing. “Before we scatter, though, I want to give some recognition to Juliet Rossiter who orchestrated not only tonight’s event, but the development of this entire project.” Juliet cringed. She tried to push away the round of applause that accompanied Pastor Gene’s kind words, but he wasn’t finished yet. “The Rushton Free Clinic was Juliet’s brainchild, and not only did she pour a substantial amount of funding into the project, but she also backed up monetary assistance with effort—solid sweat and muscle.
