Page 36 of The Marriage Pact
“What are we actually going to do at this thing tonight?” Kaitlyn asked.
Alex had forgotten this would be the first time she’d ever been to something like this. To him, it was an everyday occurrence — show up, press the flesh, smile and nod, drink a little, but not too much, and eat a few canapés. Circulating was what mattered. Everyone there had to leave thinking they’d had his time and attention. If that was the case, the night would be a success, and the final details of the Jamaica deal could be worked out. Get it wrong, and it might prove to be a very costly night.
“We’ll get there and mingle a little. I’ll have to talk to Hilary first to make sure I know all the names. There’ll be drinks and hors d’oeuvres. I don’t tend to eat much at these things. We can pick up something on the way back. Just smile and be pleasant. That’s all,” he replied, glancing at her with a smile.
Kaitlyn looked nervous, but it was too late to explain further. The car had pulled up outside the Hotel Excelsior, where a red carpet was laid out for them and dozens of photographers were waiting for a snap. Taking a deep breath, Alex stepped out of the car, nodding to the journalists, who bombarded him with questions.
“Is this the last hour? How many jobs are going to be lost if this goes wrong, Mr. Lancaster?” one called out.
“Will you take responsibility for closing the deal? Are livelihoods at stake?” another shouted.
But as Kaitlyn got out of the car, attention quickly moved to her. Shutters clicked, and Alex smiled, glad to see she’d proved to be the distraction he wanted her to be. Offering her his arm, theyglided up the red carpet to the hotel doors, where Hilary was waiting for them.
“Let me introduce the two of you,” Alex said, since Kaitlyn and Hilary hadn’t yet met.
“It’s a pleasure,” Hilary said as the two of them shook hands.
Most of the guests hadn’t yet arrived, and Alex familiarized himself with Hilary’s list, noting the photos next to the names. It always reminded him of a high school yearbook.
“I think I’m ready,” he said, aware Kaitlyn was standing on her own by a large ice sculpture in the shape of a Chinese dragon.
“And what if they ask you something about her?” Hilary whispered.
Alex looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean? I’ve known her since high school,” he replied, thinking it was a strange thing for Hilary to say.
But there wasn’t time for an explanation. The first guests were beginning to arrive, and Alex hurried over to Kaitlyn, directing her toward a group of dignitaries from the Mexican embassy in Washington.
“What are we going to say to them?” Kaitlyn whispered.
“Just… talk,” Alex replied, smiling, as he extended his hand to the first of the guests.
“Good evening, Mr. Lancaster, and what a delightful setting you’ve brought us to,” the man said, smiling as they shook hands.
“Señor Gonzalez, how good to see you again. How’s your daughter? I remember you telling me she wasn’t well last time we met in Washington,” Alex replied.
In truth, he hadn’t even remembered the man’s name, but Hilary was an expert when it came to gathering intelligence and had listed the details of their previous conversation in her folder. The man seemed pleased.
“Ah, much improved, thank you. She broke her leg in the swimming pool, diving when she wasn’t supposed to. Kids, huh?” he replied, shaking his head.
Purposeful small talk was something Alex had learned at Harvard. They’d practiced it, creating ever more outlandish scenarios for one another in role-play, often involving the whole cohort.
“Remember, everyone’s trying to catch you out,” one of his professors had once said, and Alex had taken these words to heart.
He always liked to have the upper hand, and that was why information like that contained in the folder was priceless.
“And this is your wife?” the Mexican man asked, turning to Kaitlyn, who smiled and curtsied, which seemed slightly odd to Alex, given the man was only from the embassy and not even the ambassador.
“We’re engaged,” she said before Alex could make the introduction.
“This is Kaitlyn. We’re to be married later in the year,” Alex said as Kaitlyn shook hands with the other delegates.
“And what do you do at Lancaster Holdings?” one of them asked, an imposing-looking woman with long, dark hair, in an emerald-green dress and a diamond necklace.
“Oh, I don’t work for Alex. I’m an artist,” Kaitlyn replied. “I work with ceramics, mainly. I used to have a studio in San Francisco.”
“I adore San Francisco. I grew up in Tijuana. Sometimes, we’d go on road trips right up the coast,” the woman said, her expression changing as she smiled.
“It’s a wonderful city. My studio was in Haight-Ashbury,” Kaitlyn said.
