Coffee mug in hand, Christopher Marland took a seat on one end of the black leather sofa inside the San Diego office of Prescott George. It was quiet for a Wednesday morning, or maybe it just seemed that way to him. As an architect who’d created designs for buildings all over the world, and a divorced parent of teenage twins, he had a million things on his mind. One of his most important roles, though, was here, as the president of the San Diego chapter of Prescott George, a club of sorts for African American millionaires. And at the moment, the problems plaguing the organization were foremost in his mind.
Vaughn Ellicott, an old friend who served as treasurer of Prescott George, sat on the opposite end of the sofa, drinking from his own mug. “Listen, Chris. We need to talk about what happened at Jordan’s studio.”
Chris felt his face crease into a frown at the mention of the incident. Jordan Jace, a gifted sculptor and fellow member of Prescott George, had recently had one of his sculptures vandalized during a Prescott George party he’d hosted at his gallery. That would be upsetting enough in itself, but there was more to it. “I’m still pissed that he would accuse Jojo.” Chris wasn’t the type of parent to believe his children could do no wrong, but he knew his daughter. “Jojo isn’t a troublemaker.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I know Jojo’s a good kid.”
“I mean, I drop thousands every year for her and Jack to go to one of the best private schools in the city.” Chris ran his free hand over his head. “She makes the honor roll every nine weeks, she does her chores and she never gives me a bit of trouble.”
“Jordan was bugging, Chris. It was probably just the stress of the whole incident that had him talking crazy like that.” Vaughn took another long draw from the mug. “Try to cut him some slack.”
While he understood that Jordan had been upset, Chris still didn’t like the way things had gone down. He felt insulted on his daughter’s behalf. “I know, I know. But I’m just not sure what to do here. I can’t go for him talking about my daughter that way. And at this point, he’s just piling on. There’s already so much bad press out there about us right now.”
Vaughn nodded. “Right. With the break-in here, and now this vandalism thing, we’re looking way more scandalous than I would prefer.”
“You and me both. As chapter president, all this drama reflects badly on me.” Chris sighed, drinking down about half his coffee in one long swig. The way this day was going, he would need the caffeine. “And the timing of all this couldn’t be worse. We finally got the Chapter of the Year nod, we’ve got a gala coming up in less than six weeks and everything seems to be going to the left.”
With a rueful shake of his head, Vaughn asked, “So, what are we going to do about all this?”
“We’ve got to think strategically, then find the underlying cause of this mess before the chapter goes down in flames.”
“Right. Can you think of anybody who might be holding a grudge against us? Either as a chapter, or as an organization as a whole?”
Chris shrugged. “Not off the top of my head.”
Vaughn set his mug aside. “I know it’s a sensitive subject, man, but I have to ask. Do you
