Page 13 of Watching Her

“The conference she’s helping with. They had some issues with the hotel and she’s furious. No water in the room. No snacks. She had a full list. I can’t remember all of them. She was talking so fast.”

“And what did you tell her?” I searched the hallway, more curious about her than before.

“I mentioned she should talk with the event department. I hope that was alright.”

“That’s what you should have done. I’m sorry you had to deal with an irritated guest.”

“Well, she did leave me a tip.” He showed me the twenty-dollar bill in his hand as if offering it. Interesting.

“Keep it. You earned it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

I wasn’t angry with the woman. I was genuinely interested, but not in my usual way. Why she’d intrigued me I wasn’t certain. I remained where I was while a hundred or so people passed by. All while a knowing smile crossed my face. What if I allowed myself to play?

When I slipped back into the oversized conference room, my buddy Sebastian lifted his gaze. He was amused at my absence, purposely looking at his watch. As the CEO of Innovative Visions, one of the largest and inarguably most successful media companies in the world, he’d done his time serving on various boards. Whether Triton knew it or not, he was likely to resign after the ball the next night.

He’d been a good friend for years, his dark and devious antics as demented as mine. He knew I was up to something.

The president of the board, Sam Miller, was finalizing his prepared speech, for once the aging man impressed with the level of generosity provided by our core donors.

All thanks to the work I’d done in alerting the CEOs of various Fortune 100 companies they had no option but to open their checkbooks. Or in their cases, authorizing a transfer of funds.

“Ah, welcome back, Christian. I was just remarking to the group about your work ethic.” Sam didn’t mince words, but he did believe in stroking the egos of those who augmented his reputation. By now, he should realize I couldn’t give a shit about compliments or criticism.

This wasn’t a competition.

Perhaps Sam hadn’t clued into my methods of encouragement. In my mind, the reminders I used in obtaining what I wanted were fair game when it came to charities. Besides, perhaps their consciences could be cleared.

I had none.

“Just doing my part, Sam.”

“Well done,” Ronald said from the other side of the room.

“Yes,” Xander chimed in. Xander Graham was half owner of Graham Sussex Venture Group, a publishing company holding the number one spot within the Big Five. A ruthless bastard, we’d hit it off immediately on the first day of stepping foot onto the hallowed grounds of Harvard. Our love of all things sadistic as well as our fathers’ backgrounds in organized crime had made for lively conversations as well as comparing notes. “Very well done. We could all take lessons from you.”

The sarcastic comment went over Sam’s head, as most things did. He was a nice enough old guy, but should hand over the helm of Triton. I could see my name as the new board president.

I chuckled inwardly while trying to keep from drumming my fingers on the table. It wasn’t often Xander, Sebastian, and I were in the same city, let alone surroundings. Perhaps karma was providing a temptation none of us could ignore.

“Yes, well, simply doing my part as a good citizen, Sam.” I resisted checking my watch at this point. I’d committed to going to the ball as appearances still counted for something in the world of hospitality. However, I wouldn’t be staying long and had no desire to make basic small talk with anyone.

Sam was appropriately pleased. “Then I believe we’ve come to the conclusion of our meeting. I look forward to tomorrow night’s festivities. We certainly have brought together an incredible group of items for the auction.”

Including a painting from my private collection.

As the others rose from the table, I took a deep breath while allowing my thoughts to drift to the woman in the coffee shop.

Both Sebastian and Xander remained behind as I knew they would. Once we were alone, Sebastian finally stood, leaning over the table. “You have a hell of a hotel here.”

“I’ll say.” Xander stood, immediately buttoning his jacket.

I’d left mine on the back of the chair. “Coming from two sanctimonious bastards, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They both laughed. The three of us had formed an odd bond where violence and imagination were infused with too much power and money. I could easily say we were three of the most dangerous men on the planet.

“What the hell happened to your arm?” Sebastian’s question was laced with a curious accusation.