The Christmas Gamble
Page 20
“Thank you. I might just do that one day,” I said. “Tell me though, what was this misunderstanding?”
“It doesn't really matter now.” He waved his hand dismissively. “It's been taken care of. Go on in and make your way to your table. Enjoy yourself!”
“Thank you, Mr. Wallace.”
He nodded as he ticked my name off the guest list and waved his hand in the direction of the path that led to the entrance of the hall. It was expertly lit up with beautifully colored LED lights, and looked quite like a fairy tale. I strolled up the path and into the hall, which was also magnificently decorated. Smartly dressed waiters and waitresses carrying silver platters of drinks and hors d'oeuvres were gliding through the crowd of impeccably dressed guests, who all seemed to be over the age of sixty. I took a glass of champagne from one of the waitresses and looked around to see if I could find my aunt.
I couldn't pick her out in the crowd, but my eyes did alight upon someone who I had absolutely not expected to see here—Lanie!
My heart immediately began to race and excitement buzzed through my body. Was it really her?! I walked a little closer, staring intently at her. It was! She looked beyond stunning. She was made up, her long hair done beautifully, and was wearing a sleek, body-hugging dress that showed off her slim figure and her well shaped curves. Seeing her like this simply took my breath away.
I knew that I had to go over and chat with her, and this time I sure as hell wouldn't make the same mistake again. I would get her number this time. After all, this had to be fate! How could it not be? I had been thinking about this girl non-stop since we had that chance encounter at Plant Power, and had been feeling depressed about the fact that I would never see her again—or so I had thought.
She seemed distracted, lost in her thoughts, so it was easy to sneak up behind her. And I knew exactly what line I was going to use to open the conversation.
“Excuse me,” I said to her, “is this the takeout line for Plant Power?”
She turned around immediately, and I saw shock and utter surprise splayed across her face—but it was delighted surprise. I couldn't stop myself. I beamed a huge smile at her, and we simply stared at each other for a while, just looking deeply into one another's eyes. Again, I felt that incredibly powerful sense of connection with her.
“Oh my, Jax, it's you! I, uh, what, why, what are you doing here?!” she managed to stammer, breaking the silence.
“I should be asking you the same thing,” I said with a grin.
“Look around you,” she said, smiling with a glimmer of pride. “See all this, how good the place looks? I organized most of it.”
I nodded appreciatively. “It looks amazing,” I said, and I meant it. “So, you're an interior decorator?”
She shook her head. “No, not at all. But I've been working, um, how do I put it, outside of my field recently.”
“Oh yeah? How so?”
“Well you know Mr. Wallace, I'm guessing?”
I nodded. “Yeah, of course. He organized this whole thing.”
“I'm working as well, sort of his assistant,” she said. “I'm hoping to be CEO of my own investment firm one day, so I'm sort of doing, like, an apprenticeship with him. Although to be honest, we haven't really done much in the way of, you know, learning about business and investing. Well, we have, kinda, but in a very roundabout way. It's uh . . . it's complicated.”
“Life can be,” I chuckled. “We often find ourselves in situations that we don't plan to be in. Sometimes they work out well, sometimes . . . I don't know what I'm trying to say.”
We both laughed. Suddenly, however, a strident voice interrupted our conversation.
“You're late!”
I turned to my right and saw my great-aunt standing there, glaring at me.
“Oh, I'm sorry Aunt Cara, I just had a few things I had to take care of, but—”
“No buts! There's no excuse for tardiness, especially at an event like this. Now stop talking with this, this waitress, or whoever she is, and come with me! There are some people you need to meet, people who don't like to be kept waiting.”
I felt furious, being interrupted like this and ordered around, but I knew that Aunt Cara was looking out for my best interests, and if there were people that she thought I had to meet, I guess I needed to do that.
“Sorry, Lanie, I have to go—but I'll come find you later, all right? Please, please don't leave before talking to me again, all right?”
She stared at my aunt with a hostile gaze, but then smiled at me. “Of course. I'd like to talk to you a little more as well.”
“Hurry up!” snapped Cara. I shook my head as she led me away.
“Who are we going to meet?” I asked as we strode briskly toward a group of white-haired people in their seventies.
“Raymond Villiers,” she said. “He was a prime backer of Google way back when they first started, and he invested heavily in Facebook too when it was in its infancy. This is the sort of man you want to get to invest in your company. Now I'm going to introduce you to him, and you're going to speak to him respectfully, and tell him exactly what you're doing at your company. And explain it in a way that will convince him that you're about to take off. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
She sidled up to a large, portly man with a big, white beard and thick glasses, and gently tapped him on the forearm. Suddenly, her demeanor changed in an instant from dragon-like to meek and personable.
“Raymond,” she said sweetly, “how are you, my dear?”
“Cara, it's lovely to see you,” he replied with a smile. “How are you doing this evening?”
“Fine, Raymond, just fine. Wonderful, actually! Isn't it a lovely evening?”
“It is, it is.”
“I know just how interested you are in all things software and social media, so I'd like to introduce you to my nephew, Ernest J. Cooper IV.”
I shook his hand, and we spoke for a while about software and social media. I had an enjoyable conversation with him, but it was impossible to get my mind off Lanie. All I wanted to do was go back and talk to her. Eventually, I managed to get away from Raymond—after getting his contact details, because he did want to talk more about my latest project—and began walking through the crowd, seeing if I could see Lanie anywhere.
I walked around a group of old men in tuxedos who were all laughing about something, and then almost walked straight into another young woman I knew, although not one who I wanted to see.
“Sara.”
“Hi, Jax. You look very good in that tuxedo . . .”
I had to admit that she looked good too. Her hair was done spectacularly, and she was wearing a very revealing, tight white dress cut on the side all the way up her hip to the bottom of her ribs—and it seemed, from that revealing opening that she wasn't wearing any panties. Her round breasts were pressed tightly against the see-through fabric, her nipples clearly visible. She was wearing some very flashy diamond jewelry, and her high heels, extremely angled, showed off the curves of her long, shapely model's legs.
Still, I didn't want to have anything to do with her. The only woman on my mind was Lanie, and I wasn't about to let Sara play games with me or try to manipulate me with her body.
“You look good too, Sara. Now, if you'll excuse me—”
“Have you thought about my offer, Jax?” she asked. She reached down and brushed her fingertips across the top of my hand seductively, stepping closer to me, staring into my eyes all the while.
“I uh, I have, but I haven't made a decision yet, sorry.”
“Maybe you want a little more than just the money I'm offering? Because if you want . . . more . . . I can offer you other things. Things that will bring both of us . . . immense pleasure.”
I stepped back, pulling my hand away from her. “I have to go speak to someone, Sara. I'll think about your offer—the money.”
“Speak soon, handsome,” she said with a lascivious smile on her full, g
lossy lips.
I hurried away from her, and immediately saw Lanie, who seemed to have seen what just happened between Sara and me.
“Hey,” she said with a smile. “Are you and that woman, uh . . .”
“No, no, no,” I hastily said. “We're not . . . no. And we've never, we haven't done anything. And I'm not going to. I uh, I don't like her.” Man, I was feeling like a teenage boy again, tripping over my tongue like this.
“She's gorgeous though. Wasn't she a swimsuit model?”
“Yeah, yeah, she was,” I said. “But she's nowhere near as stunning as you.”
She looked up at me, an intense look in her eyes. “It's not nice to make jokes like that,” she said softly.
“I'm not joking. You're far more beautiful than she is.”
She looked into my eyes, and I knew she could tell that I meant every word I was saying. “You . . . you really mean that, don't you?”
“Every word. I promise you.”
Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my pocket as it started ringing. Great, yet another interruption! When was I going to get a chance to have a decent conversation with Lanie? I took out the phone to see who was calling me. The number was one I didn't recognize.
“Excuse me, Lanie, I just need to see who this is,” I said.
She nodded. “Sure.”
I answered the call.
“Hi, is this Mr. Cooper?” asked an unfamiliar male voice. “This is the San Jose police department.”
“Oh uh, okay. What can I help you with?” This was surprising. Why were the cops calling me? I hadn't done anything wrong.
“You are good friends with a Mr. Peter White, is this correct?”
“That's correct.”
“I'm sorry to inform you that he's been involved in a serious car accident. He's in the ER at San Jose Central Hospital.”
“Oh, my God . . .”
Shock rushed through my system.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Cooper.”
“I'll go there right now. Right away. Thank you for informing me.”
“I hope he's all right, Mr. Cooper.”
Lanie could tell right away that something was wrong.
“What's happened, Jax?”
“My . . . my best friend has just been in a car wreck. He's in the ER right now.”
“Oh my God. I'm so sorry to hear that.”
“I have to go, I gotta go see him,” I murmured, feeling shock rushing through me and numbing me. “Quick, give me your number though . . . if you want to.”
She nodded, grabbed a napkin, and scribbled her number onto it, and thrust it into my hand. “Quick, Jax, there's my number. Now go, hurry, your friend needs you!”
I nodded, turned around, and sprinted out of the hall.
CHAPTER 11
Lanie
I still couldn't believe that Jax was here. It had to have been . . . well, fate, right?! I had never believed in anything like that before, but this was uncanny. I mean, how else could I explain just randomly bumping into the guy I thought I'd never see again—the guy who had been on my mind non-stop since our first chance encounter.
But just as soon as we got chatting, that bitchy old woman who had given me a hard time at the welcome table earlier came and interrupted us and hauled him off. Great, just great! And once again, she had looked down her wrinkly old nose at me, and had called me a waitress. I know, I know, I was sounding a little bitchy and petty myself, but seriously, why speak to someone like that? I understood that she was obviously tremendously wealthy and successful, just judging from her clothes and jewelry, but that didn't give her free reign to simply treat me like an inferior being. And yeah, you're allowed to get away with a little bit of attitude when you're in your twilight years, but even so, you don't have the right to be so rude and obnoxious to people.
I was still feeling upset about this when Bill came waddling my way. The warm smile on his face put me in a better mood immediately.
“Do you need me to go back out to the welcome table now, Mr. Wallace?” I asked.
“No, no, that won't be necessary. Everyone on the guest list is here now.”
“I'm . . . sorry I almost lost my cool out there,” I said to him, blushing slightly. “It really wasn't very professional of me.”
“I don't blame you,” he said. “I almost lost my cool myself.”
That was quite a surprising and unexpected thing to hear. Bill was always so calm and collected, and while he could be a little thorny at times, I couldn't picture him losing his temper.
“Really?”
He nodded. “That Cara Smoot is a horrid woman,” he muttered. “She and I . . . we go way back. Old rivalries, you see. But I won't go into detail about all of that, not now. I unfortunately had to let her young associate—an equally unpleasant fellow, it seems—into our ball. They would have caused too much of a scene if I hadn't. She has agreed, though, that she owes me a favor now. A big one. So, it's good to have that on her.
“Anyway, Miss Carmichael, let's not think too much about her and her unpleasant friend right now. Let's enjoy the evening. I have some friends you may like to meet—investors who are interested in current trends among America's tech-addicted youth markets. You could learn a thing or two. They're busy now, but I'll call you over when it seems that they have a free moment for conversation.”
“All right,” I said to him. “I'll talk to you later, Mr. Wallace. And remember, if there's anything that needs taking care of—”
“I'll get hold of you. You have proven yourself to be most capable and reliable, Miss Carmichael. Don't worry, I have actually noticed this!”
I chuckled. “Thank you, Mr. Wallace, I appreciate you saying that.”
He nodded, still smiling amicably, and shuffled away. I, meanwhile, headed over to one of the tables to snack on some of the delicious appetizers that were on offer. While I was busy packing a few of them onto a small side plate, I felt the presence of someone beside me. I turned to see who it was, hoping that it was Jax, but saw that it was the good-looking but creepy guy who had tried to bribe me earlier.
“Hi,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “Look, I think you and I started off on the wrong foot. It was stupid of me to do what I did. The truth is, I was just following Ms. Smoot's orders.”
I didn't know how sincere this apology actually was, but this was neither the time nor the place to argue about that.
“Thank you,” I said coolly, “for the apology. I appreciate it.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Look, I'm really not a bad person, all right? I'm just . . . I'm working with Ms. Smoot, and she can be real bossy. She pushes me to do things that I wouldn't usually do.”
“Like offer people bribes?”
He blushed and nodded, looking ashamed. “Uh yeah, like, um, offering people bribes. I just want you to know that that was totally a spur-of-the-moment thing. She honestly told me that my invitation to this ball had been sorted out, that everything was taken care of. Then, when we got to the table and you said my name wasn't there, I just, I guess I freaked out, I panicked, and I did something stupid. Please don't hold it against me, all right?”
“We all do foolish things sometimes,” I said, still feeling kind of suspicious about his intentions. “Just forget about it, and I will, too.”
“Thank you,” he said, looking relieved. “By the way, I don't remember your name, sorry. I'm Chad. Chad Burton, CEO of Burton, Inc.
“And I'm Lanie Carmichael. What do you guys at Burton, Inc. do?”
“We're an investment firm who provide capital to new software and tech start-ups—and we connect interested investors with the kind of start-ups that can make them big money quickly.”
Now I took a bit more notice of him. That was exactly what I wanted to get into. “Really, huh? And how long have you been doing this?”
“A good couple of years now. We've done super well, actually. I seem to have a knack for picking up software start-ups that really blow up.”
He gri
nned with a proud, self-satisfied smile.
“I see,” I said. “I'm actually interested in getting into that field myself.”
He reached into his pocket and took out a business card. “Here,” he said, handing the business card to me. “If you ever need any advice or tips or whatever, give me a call. I'll help you out, no charge, as a gesture of how sorry I am for how I acted earlier.”
“Thanks, Chad,” I said, putting the business card into my bag. “I appreciate that.”
“I have to go do some more networking,” he said. “There are lots of people I want to chat with here tonight. But thanks for accepting my apology. I really do mean that.”
“Sure thing. Have a good evening, Chad.”
He nodded and walked away briskly. I still felt suspicious about him, even though his apology had come across as sincere. There was just something about him, something I couldn't quite place, that seemed to set off warning bells inside my mind.
I turned around and then saw Jax walking out of the crowd. A delightful little thrill rushed through my body at the sight of him. Finally, we would get to talk again—and hopefully without interruptions this time.
However, someone else stepped out of the crowd, a tall, shapely young woman who looked to be about my age. I recognized her face—which was heavily made up—from somewhere. Where had I seen her before? Oh yes, that was right, she was Sara Wood, former swimsuit model turned investor.
I couldn't believe how provocatively she was dressed. Yes, she had a fantastic body, but what was she trying to do, give these old men heart attacks? And come on, dressing like you were about to walk onto the set of a freakin' porn film wasn't classy in anyone's books. The dress may have been a designer item that had cost thousands of dollars, but that sure as hell didn't make it classy. In fact, it was downright slutty and whorish. She hadn't left anything to the imagination; she may as well have showed up here nude.
To my horror, she glided over to Jax and planted herself squarely in his path. Even more shocking was the fact that they seemed to know each other already. They started talking, and while they were too far away for me to hear what was going on, it was blatantly obvious that she was all over him.