Page 14 of The Betrayer
“I will wait to pick you up, sir.” My driver seemed skeptical of the Mercedes but returned to waiting by his vehicle as I slipped inside.
“You’re going to the museum, right?” The driver’s suit wasn’t quite as sharp as the limo driver’s, but it wasn’t bad.
“That’s the one. And I’m late, so anything you can do to hurry...” I let my sentence trail off, hoping the man would get the message.
“Gotcha.”
Thankfully, the man turned around and clicked on the blinker before easing back into traffic. I took out my phone to flip through my emails, only to see multiple messages from Paul. Groaning inwardly, I hit the button for the messenger app.
Noise from the front of the car became words I didn’t hear.
“What?” I asked distractedly.
“Isn’t the museum where that big gala’s happening tonight?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”
My gaze flicked up to catch the driver nodding.
“I heard it’s a big deal. Lots of important people there. I took a social media influencer there earlier—looked pretty amazing.”
“Oh, yeah?”
The driver must have taken my non-answer as interest because he kept talking.
“Yeah, totally. I can’t remember her name or handle, but you’d probably recognize her. Blonde, super-hot. Said she’d been invited personally.”
I bet I wouldn’t, I thought but decided it wasn’t worth an answer.
In all honestly, I hadn’t seen the guest list, nor had I cared. Nor did I care as the driver continued to talk, his voice background noise as I read Paul’s texts.
Are you almost here?
You’re going to be here, right?
Where are you?
Are you coming?
Dad, we have to go over the speeches.
Where are you?
The gala starts in less than half an hour. Where are you?
My son seemed to have forgotten that the later you came, the more fashionable you were. It was like some odd game to the social elite in this city—you weren’t anyone if you showed up on time. Which made me the man of the hour, though I was late simply out of laziness and a lack of desire to be at the event at all.
Dad, we have our speeches to give.
I can’t believe you’re not here yet. Not only are you part of the auction, but we’re supposed to announce our acquisition of C Company to our investors tonight. How is it going to look if you’re not here?
I could just see my son typing away angrily on his phone. Despite my disposition and outlook on life, and my ex’s laidback view of living, our child had somehow ended up as serious as they came. Even as a kid, he’d been quiet and solemn, always anxious, worried about something, and acting too old for his age. It was as though he felt, lacking any other qualified personage in the room, he had to be the adult. Never mind that he had always been cared for, always had food on the table, and always got to school and his extracurriculars on time—we had never let him fall or fail too hard. I might not have been the perfect parent, but I had paid far more attention to him than my parents had to me.
But it had become a defining factor in Paul’s personality. As far as I knew, he hadn’t had any fun in college but spent all his time studying. Aside from Angela, he’d certainly never had a life outside of the business.
Dad, I swear, if you don’t show up—
