Page 81 of Rival to the Billionaire

I grab a bottle of wine from a nearby lunch table and pour myself a glass, downing it in one gulp.

"Wow, I haven't seen a person put alcohol away like that since…well, me yesterday morning," a woman says, a grin on her pretty face. The gold-plated necklace again around her slender neck reads, ‘Lena’. "Are you okay? That wine you just poured is like twenty percent alcohol, and in Vegas, pounding back the vino means you're either having an awesome time, or you're about to have a really bad time."

I pause to look at the vino, wincing when I realize it's two-thirds gone already.

"I'm fine," I lie and take another gulp of wine, my whole body tingling. "Just thirsty."

It's the truth, alright.

I need an alcohol high. Some kind of mechanical, chemical high. And wine is definitely my drug of choice. It's steady and boring, but it's there.

Lena smiles slightly and snorts. "Uh huh."

"No, seriously. I'm okay. I promise," I insist and take another drink, toasting it sky-high. "See? I'm standing here and I can still talk and everything."

"Well, you're doing better at it than my girlfriends who are still by the pool, but I think you have a little bit of color on your cheeks."

A blush spreads across my face and I fan myself. "Yeah. Okay. Not really. These conference sessions can get really intense, can't they? Everyone wants to impress everyone else, that's all."

Lena nods slowly, pouring herself some wine. "Mm, I get it. I mean, I wouldn't know since I'm crashing the place and all. This is my first tech conference ever."

"Are you? Good for you. You don't have to endure the pretentious bullshit." I shake the temporary bitterness off. "I'm Jenny, by the way." I extend my hand and she shakes it, her hand soft.

"Lena. Nice to meet you."

"Same here." My curiosity has my gaze roving over the almond-eyed, dark-haired woman in front of me. She seems slightly younger, dressed in a white silk halter top with a tiered skirt, a small scarf wrapped around her neck. "And speaking of 'bad times', I'm guessing there's a reason you're here, perusing through a boring conference instead of partaking in the city's pleasures."

"It's an interesting story," she says with a shrug.

"Let me guess. Guy troubles," I say, taking another sip of wine. "Or maybe I'm just projecting those onto you. But face it. A pretty girl who isn't competing to outshine the next pretty girl doesn't belong at a tech conference."

Lena laughs lightly. "I guess I've been found out."

"Cheers to that." I raise my nearly empty glass.

We both take a drink.

"Actually," she continues, "I'm here to scope out my brand-new boss. Technically, I haven't started interning with him yet, but I hear he's here, so I came to see what he was all about…or at least that's the theory I'm going with today," she states vaguely, her dark eyes thoughtful.

"Really? I might be able to help you with a little intel then. Well, at least, I might be able to point you in his direction," I reply. "Who's your new boss, if you don't mind me asking?"

Lena smiles, her teeth white against her olive skin. "That would be awesome. His name is Alton Anderson."

My body nearly freezes as she says it and I choke slightly on my wine. "What?"

"I said Alton Anderson. He's the CFO of Hare & Holeton publishing company. They're supposed to be presenting a new, cutting-edge app to the conference," she explains, matter-of-fact. "I'm just trying to get a connection to him. He's got a reputation for not being very sociable. I haven't been able to get ahold of him. Or maybe I tried too early, I don't know. I'm just trying to get to know him and his staff a little better, understand his business mentality, so I can make a good impression."

I cough again and shake my head, the wine going down the wrong hole. "And his name is Alton Anderson? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He's supposed to be some sort of genius, the forward-thinking law and finance guy who takes on the risks and helps get stuff done. But what I know is he also sounds like a real hard-ass who's used to getting his way."

"Must've gotten that from his brother," I mumble, rubbing my sweaty palms against my pants. "Still…"

"Meaning?"

"Um, I was just saying that I am familiar with Alton Anderson. We work together.”

"Oh! Wow. Well then. Maybe you and I met for a reason. Maybe we're meant to be. Maybe you're my new connection."

---