Page 20 of The Betrayer
It also looked like I wasn’t needed tonight. Paul had pulled it all off without my help, just like I knew he would.
I was relieved and proud at the same time. Now I could focus my attention on other, more pleasurable things.
After the price of the auction, Steffanie’s blue eyes and attention were entirely on me. Fake or not, I couldn’t tell, but I liked it. There was a possibility she would angle for a sugar daddy, which wasn’t my thing, but for now, at least, I could have fun.
Chapter 9
Paul
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ISTUMBLED OFF THEstage, the sudden change from bright lights to the dim hallway making it difficult to see where I was going. I nearly tripped on a wire, then had to catch myself from slipping down the short set of stairs. Thankfully, no one was around to see me, and I took that moment to catch my breath.
Public speaking had never been my thing, though I had grown better over the years. I’d gone from being petrified to do something as simple as a school presentation to regularly presenting information to potential investors and the board. Those I could do in my sleep now.
But an entire museum full of people who expected me to be my father in the best and worst ways? Aside from simply supporting me and being there for the company’s important night, I needed my father here to make most of the speeches. He was, after all, the natural speaker, the one everyone was drawn to, the one who could charm his way out of a snake pit.
Since my father had decided against joining me on stage, I had taken his presentations as well as mine.
The important thing was that I had made it through. Maybe I hadn’t been as charismatic as my father might have been, but the audience hadn’t seemed too bored. They had even laughed at some of my jokes, including those I’d made up on the fly, and had clapped at the appropriate intervals.
Hopefully, no one had noticed I sweated through my white button-down under my tux—I guessed that was one reason tuxedos were black. It hid the stains and dampness.
Even though my pulse was finally coming down, I was still too hot. I was suddenly desperate to get out of the close heat of the backstage room.
I slipped through the museum behind the stage, dodging around servers and other members of the event staff as I traveled down a back hallway. Ignoring their strange looks, I finally found a back door propped open with a rock.
The servers crouching down or leaning against the wall as they took drags of their cigarettes looked up as I pushed through the door, ensuring it stayed propped open. I nodded at them, and they nodded uncertainly back, taking in my tuxedo. I was clearly part of the crowd they had been serving, not part of their crew. From the looks they exchanged, they weren’t exactly happy about the fact I was disturbing their solitude.
I moved over to the wall on the other side of the door, giving them space. Leaning against the rough brick, I let my head fall back. My eyes slipped closed to the sight of the dark sky visible through the towering buildings.
The sound of the city was all around me: the rush of traffic, horns honking, and people talking and walking by on the sidewalk beyond the museum. Something snuffled under a pile of boxes, and the scent of car exhaust mixed with drifting fumes from restaurants and trash still wet from yesterday’s rain.
It all made me remember where I was, in the middle of one of the largest cities in the world. I was just one person among the millions. For a moment, that was all I wanted to be. For a moment, I tried to forget I was the COO of a major corporation, that I had just spoken for forty-five minutes off and on, sharing the stage with an emcee, to an enormous room full of people.
I wanted to forget how badly my father had let me down tonight.
