Chapter One:
Ian
The red carpet wasn't exactly rolled out for me this evening, but I hadn't exactly done anything except behind-the-scenes work for the foundation's website. I stepped out of my Rolls and walked toward the entrance, passing clusters of folks who had all been in attendance for the real show--the parade of Hollywood stars here to support the event. My car pulled away, driven by my close friend Grayson, off to find a parking spot. For the man who redesigned everything about their website and central avenue for communication with the world, I'd have thought they'd have given me a bit more honor where honor was due, but I supposed that was what the check for a quarter million dollars was for.
The foundation was a promising non-profit organization dedicated to preserving and restoring the Earth's ecosystems. Their mission was ambitious but necessary, especially in today's world where the environment was under constant threat from industrial and technological developments. I hoped that my part in helping them expand their reach to obtain more donations aimed at extending research made a difference. I wasn't the biggest environmentalist but I cared. Plus the paycheck didn't hurt.
The uniformed staff swiftly ushered me inside, their voices lost in the cacophony of chatter around me, directing everyone toward designated areas for cocktails or silent auctions or dinner reservations. People milled about in groups, heads bent together in conversation, their laughter punctuating the low hum of conversation.
I crossed the sprawling lobby, navigating through an ocean of sequins and silk, tuxedos and theatrical hats. It was like walking into another world--one where glamor and philanthropy intersected. It was all too showy for me. My plain black tuxedo was nothing to scoff at, but compared to the outrageous couture on display, I felt severely understated. However, my modest attire was in keeping with my personality--I was a man more comfortable behind a computer screen than under a spotlight.
I made my way to a corner of the room that appeared a little less crowded and started to observe the people around me. High powered business moguls, movie stars and even renowned scientists were mingling with each other. This was a world where influence and power meant everything--where the right conversation with the right person could make or break millions of dollars in donations. It was a game I loathed and would never stoop to be a part of despite my desire for more backing for my own firm. It would grow without the fanfare; I'd see to that.
"Well if it isn't Ian Gregory..." The voice curdled my blood and roused my temper instantly, but I kept cool on the outside, forcing a smile. I turned to see Ward Nelson, the only true rival I had in my field, and a former friend. The breakdown of that relationship was a story all of its own.
"Ward," I said dryly. He'd bid on this contract too and had failed to secure it. Not only had he been underbid by a dozen firms, but his company was "pretentious and showy" according to the head of the foundation, who preferred my style to Ward's. Just looking at the flashy tux he wore spoke volumes about him, not a trace of modesty in his bones.
"I've seen the site. The soft launch was a good touch." He sipped a glass of champagne meant for toasting later but leave it to him to greedily indulge.
His eyes flickered with a mix of respect and animosity. I could tell he was trying hard to conceal the latter, but it wasn't working.
"Thank you, Ward," I replied, keeping my tone steady and my expression calm. "I assume you're not just here to congratulate me?" The question hung in the air between us like the sweet smell of the exotic flowers decorating the banquet hall.
He chuckled, uncaring of the sarcastic undertone in my voice. "Well, isn't that a bit cynical? Can't old friends have a friendly chat without ulterior motives?"
"I think we ceased to be 'friends' quite some time ago," I reminded him. But I also knew he was right. This was no place for cynicism or bitterness. It would serve me well to maintain a facade of diplomacy, no matter how much I loathed it.
"Of course," Ward said after a moment's silence. He raised his glass towards mine. "To old times?"
"To progress," I countered, clinking my glass against his with barely concealed disdain before turning away from him.
We stood for a moment in silence, bathed in the light of the many chandeliers overhead. I was uncomfortable at these sorts of events but it was where Ward shone, Grayson too, for that matter, but he agreed to wait in the car knowing it would only be a few minutes until I got fed up and ditched this thing. I had to show up and make an appearance. That didn't mean I had to stay.
The emcee took the stage followed by a trail of other people I had either been introduced to before once or had never met at all. It was a line of scientists and donors, I gathered that much. Or at least that was my assumption. I'd seen one face while building the website, one I'd not soon forget.
"Lanie Gray..." Ward's voice echoed my thoughts. He whistled under his breath and leaned in to taunt me and I had the nerve to elbow him but again I restrained myself. "Foxy... That scientist has great tits."
Her low-cut top was slightly revealing but he was an ass for being so graphic about pointing it out. This was supposed to be a classy joint, not a strip joint. And I thought Ms. Gray looked nice, though I'd never say that to her face. I was certain we would never get along anyway. People like her left no carbon footprint anywhere, concerned only with saving the environment. I, on the other hand, drove a Rolls and drank soda from plastic bottles which I didn't recycle.
"Cool it, Ward. Just pay attention." My irritation with the man grew by the second. The only reason he stood beside me was to goad me. Ever since his firm took off and mine continued to struggle with growing pains, he acted like God's gift. His constant jibes every time we were in the same place had become more than just annoying.
"What? Can't a man enjoy the view?" He was up to something. Ward was single on purpose, but not because he played the field. He was a closet gay, which I had no problem with at all. He just made a mockery of himself every time he tried to act like he wasn't. Only assholes and misogynists spoke like that about women.
"Cut the crap."
"You know, you need a woman like that, Ian. Someone to hem in your unruly side and help you settle down. I bet that scientist is fire in the sack too."
I took a step farther away from him so I could try to focus on what the emcee was saying. The introduction portion of the evening was just starting and I was already about to bail. I knew Ward would be here. He'd never miss an opportunity to weigh in on my success while debasing me and making me wish I hadn't even shown up. And he knew I'd be here. It was obligatory--signed in ink on that contract for this job.
"Will you shut up so I can listen?" Another sidestep away and he only moved closer.
"I bet you could never nail a woman like that anyway. You're too much of a fucking geek." He chuckled under his breath and the woman standing in front of us shot us a glare then walked away.
