Annihilate Me (Vol. 4) (The Annihilate Me Series) (29 page)

“Oh,
my God, Alex.
 
Stop.”

“You’ll
be screaming that later.”

I
giggled at that.
 
“Unlikely.
 
But come on, stud.
 
We’re here for a reason.
 
But first let’s get a drink.”

“What
would you like?”

“A
martini.”

“You’re
such a martini girl.”

“Liquid
courage and all that.”

“I’d
also like one.
 
Let’s go to the
bar.
 
Then we need to find Welch and
Faust.
 
We’ll say hello to them and
their wives, feel them out, and see if any of them take our photographs when we
walk away.
 
It won’t be comfortable,
but we have to do it, so that’s our mission.”

We
moved into the crowd.
 
And as we
did, I admired the first floor of Henri Dufort’s penthouse, which obviously had
been designed for entertainment since the first floor essentially was one long
rectangular room.
 
It was a huge,
decadent space, not unlike his rooftop, and it was designed to impress.
 

Everything
was on point—from the dark paneled walls to the warm lighting from the
sconces on those walls and the massive chandeliers that glimmered above
us.
 
Original paintings from his
private collection were prominent, and despite how many people were here, the
noise-level was somehow manageable, which surprised me.
 

Thinking
that there had to be a reason for that, I looked up and saw that Dufort had
placed acoustic tiles in discreet, strategic locations along the ceilings to
diffuse the noise.
 
What I could
hear is exactly what he wanted me to hear—a bit of the crowd, and a lot
of the orchestra, which was at the far end of the room where I could see heads
lifting and dipping as bodies swirled to the music.

“This
is amazing,” I said.

“He
knows how to do it.”

“And
I thought it was impossible to trump Peachy’s joint.
 
Not that I’ve been to the places you’ve
been.
 
But still.
 
Would you look at this?”

“It’s
impressive,” he said, and then he looked at me.
 
“Would you like something like
this?
 
You know, so you could
entertain?”

I
shook my head at him.
 
“God,
no.
 
It’s lovely, but it’s way over
the top for me and, not to slam Henri, but it’s a bit pretentious.
 
I’m more simple.
 
I want our home to be our home, not a
place where people marvel at what you have, Alex.”

“What
we
have.”

“What
you’ve done with your apartment seems as if it was designed for you, not for
other people, which is not the case here.
 
Yours is more intimate.
 
It
feels like a home, not a showplace.
 
Although I have to say that your views are pretty show stopping.”

“At
some point, when we’re married, the board will expect us to entertain.”

“Which
is why we rent out, say, the Four Seasons should we need to.”

“Maybe
at first, but eventually we’ll need to play the game, Jennifer.
 
People will want to see our world.
 
That’s just how it works.
 
You should have seen my apartment before
my parents died.
 
It was very close
to this.
 
When it became mine, I
stripped out everything, turned it into a contemporary space that suited my
style, and with the exception of a few friends, and obviously you, I’ve never
entertained there.”

I
nudged past an older couple coming toward us.
 
I saw the woman take us in, and then I
saw her lips part in recognition.
 

“Then
maybe we should have two apartments,” I said.
 
“One to entertain and to please the
board, and another—your current apartment—that’s just for us.
 
I don’t want to make a big deal out of
this, but I don’t want people traipsing through our space, and judging us for
what is or isn’t on the walls.
 
Or
how it’s decorated.
 
Or how large it
is and if it has the right views, the right feel, the right whatever.”

He
shot me a bemused glance.
 
“You
really couldn’t care less about all of this, couldn’t you?”

“I
couldn’t.
 
Look around.
 
Do you want something like this?”

“No,
but it’s inevitable.
 
And there is
an upside to it.
 
Henri makes deals
happen here.
 
He’ll make a few
tonight.
 
That neither of us can
ignore.”

“I
agree with that.
 
So maybe we should
look for another apartment in the city for that reason.
 
Why can’t we live in two places?”

“It’s
not unheard of…”

“I
think Madonna has fifty apartments in the city.
 
If that’s the case, certainly we can
have two.”

He
laughed at that—and it was at that moment that we ran smack into Gordon
Kobus, who looked at us with such utter hatred, it sent a chill down my spine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Gordon,”
Alex said without missing a beat.
 
“It’s nice to see you.”

“Is
it, Alex?”

“Of
course it is.”

“I
can’t say the same.
 
I think we both
know why.
 
First you go after my
airline, which you’re not going to take from me.
 
Then you have the balls to think that
I’d have anything to do with whatever the hell is happening between you two.”

“I’m
sorry if I offended you.”

“You’ve
offended me on many levels.”

“I
hope we can get beyond that.”

“I
doubt it, Alex.”

“Or
at least be civil at a public event such as this.
 
Have you met Jennifer?”

Kobus
looked at me with open hostility.
 
“I haven’t,” he said.

This
was the first time I’d seen him up close in person, and though he was now in
his fifties, it was clear that he once had been very handsome.
 
He still was, only grayer.
 
And maybe a little too tan for his own
good.

“Jennifer,
this is Gordon Kobus.”

I
smiled at him and held out my hand, which he looked at before he decided to
shake.

“I’ve
seen you around, Ms. Kent.
 
Especially in the papers.”

I
ignored the slight and decided to keep it light.
 
“It’s nice to meet you in person, Mr.
Kobus.”

“Is
it?
 
I wonder if I believe that.”

“I
don’t know you, so I’m not sure why you wouldn’t.”

He
raised his eyebrows at that, and turned around and reached for the dashing
young man behind him.
 
“Since we’re
being all friendly and everything, please meet my son, Jake.
 
Jake, this is Jennifer Kent, and I think
you know Alex.”

Jake,
I had to admit, was something to behold.
 
He was taller than Alex, who was six-two; he had curly black hair that
was trimmed close; and he had a square, masculine jawline that was shaved
clean.
 
There was a deep cleft in
his chin.
 
By the looks of him, he
was around thirty.
 
And he didn’t
look nearly as hostile as his father.
 
In fact, if anything, he made no secret of the fact that he was soaking
me in.

“It’s
nice to meet you, Jennifer.”

“And
you, Jake.”

“Alex,”
Jake said, proffering his hand.
 
“Nice to see you, too.”

“Jake.
 
It’s been awhile.”

“Dad’s
been pretty busy lately, which means all of us have been busy.”

The
undercurrent of what he said was clear, but at least he reined it in, unlike
his father.
 
Still, I wished he’d
stop looking at me so openly.
 
It
was uncomfortable, especially since he knew I was with Alex.

I
looked away from him at the very moment that a photograph was taken of the four
of us.
 
I winced from the light,
lifted a hand because I was blinded for a moment, and then I saw that the
person who snapped the photograph was a member of the paparazzi.

“Thanks,”
the man said.

“Fuck
you,” Alex said.

“Just
doing my job, Mr. Wenn.”

“Fuck
you and your job.
 
Get out of here.”

The
man took another succession of photos of us, and then gave Alex a smug smile
and walked away.

“What
an asshole,” Alex said.

“You
should know one when you see one, Alex,” Kobus said.

“Look,
Gordon, I know I’m the last person you want to see tonight, so I’ll just say
this, then Jennifer and I will leave.
 
I appreciate that you took the polygraph test.
 
I know there is a lot of tension between
us, and that you didn’t have to do it.
 
I apologize if you were offended when you were asked.”

“If
I’m going to kill you, Alex, it’s going to be by keeping my airline out of your
hands.
 
That
will kill
you.
 
Because from what I know about
you?
 
You hate to lose.
 
And I
was
offended.
 
I’m not some fucking murderer, so how
dare you go there with me.
 
I took
the test to shut you down and to tell you to go to hell.
 
Which is what I’m doing now.
 
Good evening.”

And
with that, Gordon Kobus put his hand on his son’s shoulder and turned him away
from us, and they moved deeper into the crowd.

*
 
*
 
*

“Well,
there’s that,” I said as Alex and I walked over to the bar.

“It
could have been worse.”

“True.
 
He could have slapped you like I slapped
Immaculata.”

He
grinned when I mentioned that.
 
“That evening was epic.”

“She
deserved it.”

“Only
a woman could have gotten away with it.”

“And
I’m that woman.
 
Obviously not one
of my proudest moments, but I don’t regret it.”

“Let
me get our drinks.”

He
held up a hand, got the attention of one of the bartenders, and ordered two
martinis.
 
“Belvedere,” he
said.
 
“No olives.
 
A twist in each.”

“Absolutely,
Mr. Wenn.”

I
put my arm around his waist.
 
“Nothing like a martini.”

“Nothing
like it.”

“Kobus
is a gentleman.
 
Are you OK after
that?”

“Are
you kidding?
 
That was nothing.
 
Now that you and I are back on track,
nothing can touch me.
 
But I did
want to thank him for taking the test.
 
That was important to me, regardless of the fact that he can’t stand
me.
 
He didn’t have to do that, so
it was the right thing for me to do.”

“Have
you seen the other two tonight?
 
Welch and Faust?”

“Not
yet.”

“I
haven’t even seen Henri.
 
We need to
find him and thank him.”

“He’s
so short, we might not even see him.”

“Here
are your drinks, Mr. Wenn.”

Alex
put a bill down on the bar, thanked the man, handed me my cocktail, and touched
glasses with me.
 
“To us.”

“To
us,” I agreed.

He
sipped and then he stopped.
 
With
his mouth still at the rim of his glass, he said, “And to your right is John
Welch and his wife, Savanna.”

I
looked to my right.
 
“Where?”

“Black
tie for him.
 
Dark hair.
 
My age.
 
She’s easier to identify.
 
Red dress.
 
Blonde.
 
Hair pulled away from her face.
 
Diamonds blinking everywhere.”