King Of Wrath
“I
can’t believe he’s here. He never comes to these things unless
it’s hosted by a friend…”
“Did you see he bumped Arno Reinhart down a spot on the
Forbes Billionaires list? Poor Arnie nearly had a meltdown in the middle of
Jean-Georges when he found out…”
The whispers started halfway through the Frederick Wildlife Trust’s
annual fundraiser for endangered animals.
This year, the small, sand-colored piping plover was the alleged star of
the show, but none of the gala’s two hundred guests were discussing the
bird’s welfare over their Veuve Clicquot and caviar cannoli.
“I heard his family’s villa in Lake Como is undergoing a one-hundred-
million dollar renovation. The place is centuries old, so I suppose it’s
time…”
Each whisper grew in intensity, accompanied by furtive glances and the
occasional dreamy sigh.
I didn’t turn to see who had the normally cool-as-ice members of
Manhattan high society in such a tizzy. I didn’t really care. I was too
focused on a certain department store heiress as she tottered toward the
swag table in sky-high heels. She quickly glanced around before swiping
one of the personalized gift bags and dropping it in her purse.
The minute she walked off, I spoke into my earpiece. “Shannon, Code
Pink at the swag table. Find out whose bag she took and replace it.”
Tonight’s bags each contained over eight thousand dollars’ worth of
swag, but it was easier to fold the cost into the event budget than confront
the Denman’s heiress.
My assistant groaned over the line. “Tilly Denman again? Doesn’t she
have enough money to buy everything on that table and have millions left
over?”
“Yes, but it’s not about the money for her. It’s the adrenaline rush,” I
said. “Go. I’ll order bread pudding from Magnolia Bakery tomorrow to
make up for the strenuous task of replacing the gift bag. And for God’s
sake, find out where Penelope is. She’s supposed to be manning the gift
station.”
“Ha ha,” Shannon said, obviously picking up on my sarcasm. “Fine. I’ll
check on the gift bags and Penelope, but I expect a big tub of bread pudding
tomorrow.”
I laughed and shook my head as the line cut off.
While she took care of the gift bag situation, I circled the room and kept
an eye out for other fires, large or small.
When I first went into business, it felt weird working events I would
otherwise be invited to as a guest. But I’d gotten used to it over the years,
and the income allowed me a small degree of independence from my
parents.
It wasn’t part of my trust fund, nor was it my inheritance. It was money
I’d earned, fair and square, as a luxury event planner in Manhattan.
I loved the challenge of creating beautiful events from scratch, and
wealthy people loved beautiful things. It was a win-win.
I was double-checking the sound setup for the keynote speech later that
night when Shannon rushed toward me. “Vivian! You didn’t tell me he was
here!” she hissed.
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Updated 53 Episodes
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