Page 10 of The Plus-One Deal

“Oh, nothing big. Just a shipping disaster.” I pushed my garment bag aside and hunched over my keyboard. “I might be a bit late for tonight’s big event. If you catch Verity before me, talk me up, would you?”

“You know it,” said Conrad, tapping on his own keyboard. “But don’t be too late. These things get boozy. You’ll want to catch her while she’ll remember your name.”

I snickered my agreement, already neck-deep in work. Tonight would be great — I wasn’t worried. I had Conrad with me, and we were the dream team.

Nothing ever went wrong while he had my back.

CHAPTER 4

CONRAD

The view was so gorgeous it was stealing the show, miles of white beach, gentle surf, waving palms. The sun hung low over the ocean, the sky stained all shades of orange and pink. Like the inside of an enormous conch shell, white trails of clouds forming its rim. Most of the guests had come out for a look, spilling over the terrace and onto the beach. Inside sat bid sheets for the silent auction, temptations eclipsed by nature’s display.

“It’s the same sun in LA,” came a high, nasal voice. “But I never saw any sunset looking like this.”

“Because the air’s cleaner here,” said someone else. “LA’s full of smog, so it’s like a dirt filter. Like an old photo, but without the charm.”

“LA’s not that dirty. Smog was more from the eighties.”

I moved off down the beach, away from the smog talk. Claire hadn’t shown yet, but I wasn’t worried. The night was still young. She’d be down soon.

“Conrad Farley!” A tall woman strode over, her husband in tow. I placed her quickly — Helen Wright, a photographer. She’d photographed pretty much everyone worth knowing. She’d taken Claire’s portrait for the cover ofForbes. Now, she was smiling. “Where’s your other half?”

“She’ll be down any minute, but?—”

“Oh, good. She’s so lively. She’s sort of my safety hatch for these types of events: I get stuck with someone boring, I whistle her over.”

I gave a wry chuckle. “You saying I’m boring?”

“Actually, no. I was hoping you’d be here. You haven’t sat for me yet, and that’s — oh, hold on. Sorry.”

Her husband was beckoning from down the beach, along with a stout man in a Savile Row suit.

“We know him,” she sighed. “We all go back years. If I don’t say hello, I’ll be in the doghouse.”

I smiled politely and waved her on. Immediately, I found myself pulled away in turn, drawn into a huddle of half-soused VCs. Later, I’d have to help Claire avoid them. They stood for everything she couldn’t stand — unsustainable growth, shareholders as kings — and still they pursued her, gunning for Timeless.

“You here with Claire Colt?” one of them asked me.

“When are you going to get a saddle on that filly?”

One of them whinnied, and I grimaced, disgusted. “Bit of advice,” I told him, “you’ll want to chill with the horse jokes. That nonsense gets back to Claire, she’ll have you for breakfast.”

“But she listens to you. You’ll talk us up, right?”

I flashed them a thin smile. “I’ll make her aware of your presence.” Then I turned my back on them and headed off to find Helen. They wouldn’t get anywhere near Claire as long as I had a say.

By the time I found Helen, she’d joined another couple, a ruddy, red-cheeked man and his willowy wife. The wife looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her. She looked about forty, but her husband was older, a silvery fifty, but still in good shape.

“This is him now,” said Helen. “Conrad, meet Verity, and her husband Kenneth.”

“Ken.” He shook my hand. “So, you’re Claire’s other half? We were hoping to meet her here, but I haven’t seen her.”

I opened my mouth to correct the “other half” rumor, but Verity got going before I could start.

“You two, I’ve got to say, you’re such a gorgeous couple. And you met in college? That’s just…” She made a hand-flutter gesture over her heart. “I admire loyalty,” she said. “Knowing a good thing and grabbing on with both hands. Ken was my first love, since our ninth-grade spring fling. He was the first boy I ever danced with.”

I coughed. “Oh, uh?—”

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