Page 46 of Fake it For Good
“I don’t think you need to talk it up,” he said. “We show off the toys. We give some away. Nothing big.”
“And this is the big event of the year?” I asked.
He nodded. “It’s like our Super Bowl.”
“You give away toys?”
He shrugged. “Yes. It’s a chance to cut deals. We have to give some to get some.”
“And this event is for the rich and famous?” I questioned. It was a little bit of an interrogation. I had an idea in my head, and I was hoping I could find the way to say the words.
“I don’t know about famous, but a lot of the attendees are definitely wealthy,” he answered.
“And you give them your expensive toys?”
“Yes, I suppose we do. Not just us. It’s all about the swag. They get toys, perfume, purses.” He shook his head. “People walk away with armloads.”
“Would you ever consider doing a small event?” I asked. “Like what you were talking about. You give away swag but on a smaller level.”
“Tonight was pretty small,” he said.
“I mean smaller than that,” I replied. I didn’t know how to ask him what I really wanted. It felt forward. He was already paying me a lot of money just to pretend to be his fiancée. It didn’t feel right asking for more. But then I reminded myself it wasn’t for me. It was for the kids. I would do just about anything for the kids. It was why I had signed up to sell myself as a date in the first place.
“I’m not sure that would do anything for us,” he said. “The idea is to present our products to a large number of people. They take them home and talk them up.”
“What if you did a toy giveaway to some kids that would really appreciate what you were handing out?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The orphanage I spend a lot of time with is having a toy drive,” I explained. “Please don’t think I’m forward suggesting it, but if I could tell people you were going to be there, it might drum up some publicity. We’re asking people to donate a toy to get into the party. It’s nothing grand. There won’t be caviar or shrimp cocktails. There will be punch and cookies.”
“A toy drive?” he asked.
“Yes. People bring a new toy to the orphanage. In exchange, they get to have cookies. Cheap, crappy cookies.”
“That sounds like a hell of a trade-off,” he said, laughing.
“That’s what a real charity does,” I told him. “We don’t waste the hard-earned money on caviar. People can buy their own caviar. We want toys. We want pajamas. We want coats and gloves for the kids.”
He looked thoughtful. “What can I do to help?”
“Just say you’ll be there,” I said. “Just having your name attached to the project will help. People are drawn to a celebrity. I wouldn’t expect you to stay for long. If we could just put up some social media ads announcing you’ll be there, it might be enough.”
“How many toys do you get when you do these drives?”
I shrugged. “It depends. Usually enough to cover the one orphanage. If we ever get extra, we share the wealth. Our goal is to make sure every child in foster care and the orphanages gets at least one toy.”
“Really?” he asked with his lip curled. “One gift.”
“It’s better than nothing,” I countered.
“No, I mean, of course, I just, well, it’s not much,” he said.
“No, it isn’t,” I said, sighing. “But when you have nothing, you only need a little to feel like you’re rich.”
“I would love to,” he said. “Sign me up. Well, you’ll have to send me the date and then I’ll forward it to my assistant. She’ll get it on my calendar.”
I felt so guilty for pushing it on him, but I couldn’t afford to have any shame. Not when I could give one kid something special. “Thank you,” I said. “Truly, you are going to make a huge difference.”
