Page 2 of Catching a Con Man

The people in the room were mostly older. Well, the men were. The women seemed to be a mix of old society wives the same age as their husbands, and trophies who brought the average age in the room down by about two decades. Everyone was dressed to the nines, men in tuxedos and women in fabulous satin gowns. Waiters weaved expertly between them all as they mingled, offering and refilling glasses of champagne and appetisers.

I snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waitress and a couple of little salmony things from a waiter, who looked me up and down appreciatively. Maybe he was angling for a tip.Not just the tip, though.

I was halfway through one of the little snacks when a voice spoke into my ear, making me jump.

“Delectable,” said the voice, dripping like honey into my ear. It was a deep, rumbling voice and made me shudder just to hear it.

“Want some?” I squeaked, holding up the little snack stupidly, then cursed myself internally before turning around to face the man who’d spoken in my ear.

Oh. My. Wow.The man’s voice hadn’t even done him justice. He stood almost a foot taller than me, in a deep navy suit that looked like it probably cost more than a decade of my salary. He must have been in his mid-thirties. His light brown hair and tanned skin were a few shades apart, and it gave the impression he was carved out of bronze. He looked familiar, but then again I could have seen him on the cover ofForbesorGay Times.He would have both of their very separate audiences drooling for different reasons.

“Oh no, I’ve had my canapés,” he said. “It wasn’t those that I thought looked so edible.”

I could feel my whole cool, composed mask slipping as my heart fluttered against my polyester shirt.Pull it together, Tyler.

I took a nervous sip of champagne and choked, almost spitting it over the man’s shirt. I covered my mouth with my arm as I spluttered and tried regaining control of the situation.

“Tyler Bev- Tyler Quinn,” I corrected myself, holding out a hand to shake and noticing I’d just coughed up a bit of salmon onto my sleeve.

“Ade,” he replied, not offering anything else. “I’ve not seen you around much before.”

“Well, I’m rarely out in society,” I replied. “Grandfather rarely sees any need to be so…publicly charitable.”

“I see.” Ade smiled, and his teeth were, of course, perfectly white and perfectly straight. I really hoped he had a really weird-looking penis, because nothing else could balance out the perfection everywhere else. “My family prefers the publicity of charity. It might seem a little…selfish, but I hope that in affecting change publicly then we can convince others to do the same.”

“I see,” I parroted, still looking into his caramel-brown eyes and feeling completely unable to look away.

The orchestra stopped, and then someone was tapping a spoon loudly against a glass. “Could everyone please take their seats?” asked the maitre’d.

“I’ve got to step out for a second, but I hope to see you later,” said Ade, flashing a smile and disappearing into the crowd as it dispersed, patrons heading to their seats.

I walked in with the crowd, stuffing the salmon canapé into my mouth when I realised I was still carrying it. I knocked back the glass of champagne and put it on a passing waiter’s tray.

The other four spaces on the table had been filled when I got to it. There were only two free spaces, that of me and…Addison Crane. Typical that the notoriously early old man would be late for the first time in his life. Not that I needed him per se, but he was the richest person here. I wanted to be at the table where it happened.

“Oh, aren’t you delightful?” said a woman across the table. She looked a bit like a trussed up turkey in her big red feathery dress, her auburn hair piled high above her head. “I’ve not seen your face around here before.”

“Leave the man alone,” said the man sat next to her. “Sorry for her. She drinks. I’m Derek Cummings and this is my wife, Gloria.”

“Nice to meet you both,” I smiled. “Tyler.”

“Are you here with Addison?” asked Gloria. “He does like his younger men…”

I had just taken a sip of the water in front of me and almost spat it out. Addison Crane, happily married septuagenarian who’d fathered five children, wasn’t straight? Could I use that to my advantage tonight? I’d used sex to get me things before…but never with someone so old and wrinkly.

“Uh, n-no,” I stammered. “My grandfather…is Holden Quinn. I’m just here for the same reasons as you.”Whatever those reasons might be.

“Oh, Holden! Used to be such a party animal. Shame none of us have heard from him indecades. Money corrupts, that’s what I always say. How is he?” Gloria seemed to speak at a hundred miles an hour, and seemingly didn’t mind being corrupted by the surrounding opulence.

“He’s…fine. Still…reclusive,” I said, thanking God that this woman who knew him had no way of contacting him. Otherwise my cover could have been blown before I even started.

“Oh, here’s Addison now. Darling, you look wonderful!” Gloria was looking over my shoulder as a shadow fell over me. I stood, ready to introduce myself.

“Hello Addison,” I held out my hand as I turned. “I’m Tyler…”

I trailed off. Because the man standing next to me wasn’t the seventy-year-old that I was expecting, but Ade. The beautiful man who’d already rocked my false confidence was back to do the same all over again.

He pulled out the chair marked for Addison, and I instinctively held out a hand to stop him. “Sorry, I’m waiting for…” and I looked behind him, still expecting to see Addison Crane. And then it clicked, all at once.Addison Crane Seniorwas one person, and Ade was…short for Addison. I had been waiting for Addison Crane. And I was looking at him.

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