“Where are you off to?” Piper asks me. “Everyone’s going to be here in a few minutes.”

“I am going,” I say grimly, “to find Sebastian and Daniel, and give them a piece of my mind.”

“What did Daniel do?”

“He told me to keep our threesome out of the tabloids, then gave our department millions of dollars to make up for being a dick.”

Piper looks confused at my brief explanation. “I know it doesn’t make any sense,” I say over my shoulder, walking toward the front door. “I promise I’ll explain everything tomorrow. I’ll swing by the restaurant.”

“Hang on,” she grins, “are you dropping out of Monday Night Drinking so you can get laid?”

“Are you even listening to me?” I ask in exasperation. “I’m really pissed off with them. I’m going to kick their asses.”

“Sure, Bails, whatever,” she says. Her eyes twinkle. “Somebody's going to get laid. I can’t decide if I should sing ‘bow-chika wow, wow,’ or tell you to ‘go forth and fornicate.’”

“There’s going to be no fornication,” I insist weakly. “You have the situation all wrong.”

But the words feel like a lie as they leave my mouth, and judging from the amused grin on Piper’s face, I’m not doing a very good job convincing her.

20

Wealth is the ability to fully experience life.

Henry David Thoreau

Daniel:

At seven, not too long after I walk into my home, there’s a knock at my front door. I go downstairs to find Sebastian standing there, a frown on his face. “I need to punch something or someone,” he says. “I thought I’d come here instead.”

“I have beer.” I stand aside and he walks in. “What happened?”

“You know Mina, the restaurant manager at Seb II? She fired a waiter who is a buddy of Ben, and Ben was a surly bitch the whole day yesterday.” Sebastian clutches at his hair. “Don’t tell me to fire Ben.”

“Fire Ben.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Lead me to the liquor, Hartman.” He enters the kitchen and grabs a beer out of the refrigerator, handing me one at the same time. “Any word from Bailey?”

“No.” I’m nervous. I thought I might hear from her today about the package I sent her, but there’s been no word. And if news of the Hartman Foundation grant has reached her? I shudder to think of the conclusion she will draw.

Sebastian reads the expression on my face. “What did you do, Daniel?”

I tell him about the grant and he laughs out aloud. “Daniel,” he shakes his head at me, “did you really spend a hundred and fifty million dollars to apologize?”

“Of course not.” I even sound defensive, damn it. “I sent her a gift with an apology. The NYU grant has been in the works for a long time. I merely suggested to my mother that she shouldn’t give it to the business school. They would have just built a fancy building and named it the Hartman School of Business. An endowment to Liberal Arts is much more useful. They’ll hire professors and fund scholarships for graduate students.” I roll my eyes. “You know, the actual purpose of higher education.”

“Dude, I wouldn’t know about any of that,” Sebastian says. “I didn’t finish high school, remember? Despite my lack of education,” his voice is laced with sarcasm, “I’m going to hazard a guess that Bailey isn’t going to be thrilled when she finds out that the billionaire who owes her an apology gave her department a hundred and fifty million dollars.”

“Come on,” I protest, “she can’t possibly hold the grant against me.” I down the beer as I think through his words, a sinking feeling going through me. Then I get a short, terse text message from Bailey, asking if I’m at home and announcing that she’s coming over. She says she wants to talk to both Sebastian and me. I quickly reply in the affirmative. “She’s coming over,” I tell Sebastian, showing him my phone. “She sounds irritated, don’t you think?”

Sebastian looks puzzled as he reads her message. “Why does she want to know if I’m here? You fucked up, not me.”




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