Chapter 6 - The Prelude to Noon
By Monday evening, the news of Harbor House’s sudden corporate buyout had sent a small tremor through the local commercial real estate community, though no one yet connected the acquisition to the viral video that was still accumulating millions of views online.
Sloane Mercer spent Monday night hosting a "Celebration Party" at a luxury rooftop bar downtown, paid for entirely by Evan’s corporate credit card. She spent two hours doing live Q&A sessions with her fans, laughing openly whenever someone asked about the "Coke Waitress."
"Guys, stop asking about her!" Sloane laughed into her phone camera, adjusting her diamond necklace. "She probably got fired anyway! That’s what happens when you have an attitude in the service industry! Always give the customer what they want!"
Evan stood behind her, holding a bottle of aged tequila, roaring with laughter as his friends cheered him on.
"To Tuesday morning!" Evan yelled, raising his glass to the city skyline. "To big money, big boats, and never taking crap from the help!"
Ten miles away, in the quiet, dimly lit library of the Rainer estate, Dominic sat in a high-backed leather chair.
He was wearing a black silk robe over his trousers, looking down at an ancient chessboard set up on the low mahogany table before him. Sitting across from him was Marco.
"Harrison Caldwell’s legal team has just confirmed their arrival for ten o'clock tomorrow morning," Marco reported, setting a thin stack of financial dossiers beside the board. "They are bringing Harrison, Evan, their head of legal counsel, and the senior loan officer from Eastern State Bank."
Dominic moved a black knight to a central square.
"Has Evan been informed of the location?" Dominic asked.
"Harrison ordered Evan to attend," Marco said with a thin smile. "Harrison wants his son present for the photo opportunity when the contracts are signed. He thinks it will give Evan some public credibility as the incoming Vice President of the development group."
"Good," Dominic murmured. "A boy should always be present when his father pays his debts."
Grace walked into the library, wearing a soft cream cashmere sweater, carrying two cups of chamomile tea. She set one down beside Dominic and leaned over, resting her chin on his shoulder.
"Are you ready for tomorrow, Grace?" Dominic asked softly, reaching up to cover her hand with his.
"I’ve spent five years carrying four heavy dinner plates at once without spilling a drop, Dominic," Grace said quietly, a faint, dangerous smile gracing her lips. "Tomorrow, I’m only carrying one."
"And what plate is that, my love?"
"The bill," Grace said.
May you like
Dominic let out a low, deep rumble of laughter that echoed off the book-lined walls. He moved his black queen into an open lane on the board, trapping the white king against the edge of the carved frame.
"Checkmate," Dominic whispered.
