Page 2 of The Client
“Yes,” I agree. We certainly have a lot to discuss.
Not only do I need to know what’s bothering her, but I also need to tell her that my grandfather is handing the company over to me. In five years I’ll be running a multi-billion-dollar empire. I can already see us there, holding court in a party to shame this one, accepting congratulations. All my dreams are coming true. With her at my side, I’ll be unbeatable.
“Rhys!” my father bellows over the din.
A sigh of irritation escapes me, and Celine lets out a little laugh.
“Best do as the birthday boy asks.” Running her fingers lightly over my cheek, she says, “And happy birthday yourself,mon chéri. He didn’t forget; don’t worry.”
Grabbing her wrist, I turn her hand over and kiss her palm. I’m not worried that my father “forgot” that we share a birthday. I’m not worried at all, in fact. I’ve had a lifetime of this.
And now that Celine is back, I have plenty of my own ideas about how to celebrate.
Before I can share any of them with her, however, she tilts her head to tell me that my father is approaching. Then she saunters away to mingle, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing server as she goes. God, the way she moves. Like water, like wind, like a dancer.
A harsh slap on the back rudely pulls me from my thoughts.
“Son. You made it!”
“Looks like I did,” I say dryly.
He grips my shoulder tightly, steering me to the edge of the crowd.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asks. “Some news your grandfather may have passed along this afternoon?”
Some things about my father are predictable: an iron-clad belief in himself, for one. He thinks his father was prepping me to become his right-hand man. Luckily for the company, my grandfather isn’t an idiot. Another predictable thing: good drinks, and plenty of them.
I grab a glass of scotch off a tray and take a sip. “It was a confidential meeting, so no. Is there something you want to tellme?” I shoot back at him. “Maybe, happy birthday, son? I couldn’t help noticing my name isn’t on the cake.”
The light in his eyes darkens. His jaw works back and forth while he watches me sip my drink rather than roll over and show him my belly.
“Fine,” he says tersely. “I suppose we both have our secrets, don’t we?”
It’s a cryptic thing to say, but I don’t have time to ponder it because suddenly the lights dim and a spotlight shines down onto a stage at the end of the room. Without another word, my father trots over there like a celebrity about to host a live game show, grabs a microphone that someone tosses him from the wings, and makes a grand “ta-da” gesture.
“Would you just look at this turn out tonight! I will be damned. Here I was, thinking I had no friends but the devil himself, and then you all came out to celebrate me.”
He gets a round of good-natured laughter and some applause from the crowd.
“Honestly, though, from the bottom of my heart. I am so grateful for each and every one of you,” he says, laying it on thick. “This is what life really is all about.”
More applause, and all the while I’m cringing inside.
He yammers on some more, thanking the caterers, the live string quartet, the people who put the party together, and then takes a bow.
I roll my eyes and toss back the rest of my drink. Replacing it with a fresh flute of champagne, I search for Celine as the crowd compresses around the stage. Time for us to find a quiet corner. I want to ask her to marry me, and then get out of here. My bed has been cold for two weeks and I can’t wait one more minute to see her beneath me, wearing nothing but my ring.
Spying her in a corner, I start to make my way over.
Dad’s voice drones on, but I barely bother to listen. Celine grabs a fresh drink and begins moving closer to the stage…the crowd parting to either side as she moves toward the stairs and climbs up to stand next to my father.
What the fuck is she doing? I have a brief vision of her disrupting my father’s speech to do a Marilyn-esque birthday song for me, but of course I haven’t told her yet that I’ll soon be president and CEO.
My dad looks over at Celine. The lights fall on her, making her glow, from her halo of white blonde hair to the diamond choker to the soft sheen of her silver dress.
“It may be my birthday, but there’s another reason I’ll never forget this night,” he says.
She slips her hand into my father’s.
