“I heard him.”
“You’re remarkably calm.”
I took another sip of coffee.
“I had twelve years to stop being surprised by him.”
On the screen, Vanessa lifted her champagne glass.
“To winning.”
Then Arthur Bell appeared.
Daniel’s smile widened immediately.
Arthur was seventy-two years old, silver-haired, impeccably dressed, and frightening in the quiet, courteous way certain powerful men become after decades of never needing to raise their voices.
Years earlier, Arthur had invested in Daniel’s company.
More recently, he had joined one of my advisory boards.
Daniel spotted him near the entrance and hurried over.
“Arthur! You came!”
Arthur shook his hand.
“Wouldn’t have missed it.”
Vanessa leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“We’re honored you’re here.”
Arthur looked at the newlyweds for several seconds.
Then he glanced around the ballroom.
The cameras.
The champagne tower.
The journalists.
The investors.
The employees.
The business partners.
