As we are drivenacross the French Riviera city, I look out the window, lost in thought. “Look, are you alright?”
I turn to Storm, distracted, “Sorry.”
I force myself to be present, as she takes my hand. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I say, distracted, and distant. I’m trying to calculate how many hundred million I could lose, if I screw up the next three days.
Also, how to craft the deal memo with Dante, and how to structure the deal we hope to do. Storm is holding my hand, but she slowly removes it.
I’m instantly pulled back to reality, and I look over at her. “I’m sorry baby, I’m just tired and distracted.”
“Are you sure?”
I rub my neck, and I sigh. “Yes, and my apologies. I have too much on, and it’s also hard to think, with you here so close… ”
“Look, sorry, I can go, I just… ”
“No, I asked you to come, and I need you here,” I say taking her hand. Our eyes meet, and we are clearly on edge. “We’ll be fine, and we jet home tomorrow, right!”
Storm smiles sweetly, and nods. Her big brown eyes warm. “So, nothing else?”
I shake my head and sigh. “Just too much going on.”
“Well just remember, I’m here,” Storm says.
As always, she’s a team player, and she is completely down to earth. I squeeze her hand, and I wink at her as we reach the marina.
We walk arm in arm toward the yachts, and I know which one it is. It’s the largest super yacht, it makes sense.
Supposedly thisis the film festival party to attend, and it is where the biggest players will be.
Like Dante, myself, Troy Remington, and all of our global competition.
I know some of my staff will be here, so I will not be working alone. As I go to call Dante, and Troy, I find a message from Troy.
Stuck in deal meeting. Trying to package six movies. Enjoy. Can not attend.
I think about Dante, and I know he will be here.
“All okay?” Storm asks as she looks over the yachts.
“Of course. Troy won’t make it, but we’ll catch up with Dante.”
“Great, I like Dante. He’s gentle, and classy.”
“He is that,” I say, as I show our two lavish invites. “He is also supposedly wicked.”
Storm raises a brow, and she tries not to blush. As the staff usher us onto the yacht, I remember who is hosting the gathering.
It’s one of the world’s top entertainment banks, and a company I’ve borrowed from in the past. Around five billionover the last decade, which means in terms of interest I’ve paid them, I’ve basically paid for this yacht.
I shake hands with the bank’s US Vice President, and we have personally, done deals together.
“Lorenzo,” he says, with a firm hand.
“Benjamin, this is Storm.”
“Storm, that’s quite a name.”