Page 9 of Damaged Mogul
Chapter 3
Gage
This day steamrolled me.
I was so consumed by today’s drama, I toyed with the idea of asking my receptionist to accompany Lily at tonight’s event. Even in my pissed-off state, I recognized it was a bad idea. It’s one thing to justify not being able to meet her at the airport, it’s another to ditch her altogether.
As I stroll through the Pompadour Hotel’s lobby, I pull out my phone and shoot off a text to Michaela and Phoenix to let them know I’ve arrived. I also send one to Lily to let her know where to find me. All three of them respond.
Done.
I head towards the Baudelaire Bar for a much-needed drink. Since I won’t be here long, I refuse the hostess’s invitation for a booth, preferring a spot at one of the high tables offering an unobstructed view to the entrance. I’m too restless to sit down.
After placing my drink order, I begin the countdown until I’m able to inject my veins with alcohol. When the bartender drops a gin martini on ice in front of me, I lift my eyes to theceiling and let out a silent prayer. After the hellish day I’ve had to endure, I need to deep dive to the bottom of this glass, and never reemerge.
I drain half my drink in one go.
I drop the glass on the table, and realization hits me.
Lily and I never exchanged photos, and I didn’t stalk her online.
Since Fisher connected us, our few exchanges have been brief. Not that I’m complaining. I’d rather that than her texting me incessantly. On the downside, I have no idea who I’m supposed to meet.
I’m about to shoot her another text and attach a photo, when Mr. and Mrs. König appear at the threshold.
Phoenix lifts a hand in salute.
I respond in kind.
He and his beautiful wife head my way.
“Hey,” Phoenix says, patting my shoulder. “Did you survive the day?”
“Barely.” I lift my martini glass. “That’s why this is the first of many.”
“I saw the screaming headlines,” Michaela says. “Is any of it true?”
“Fifteen-year-old violinist Snow Hyman’s aggravating, loudmouth mom is convinced her daughter is the next in line for her own Vegas headline show.”
Michaela frowns. “Is her daughter that talented?”
“Snow has potential, but her bratty attitude is insupportable,” I say. “In the end, the public voted her off the show. Her fame-hungry mom has been vocal in expressing her outrage, but I never thought it would amount to her accusing my show host of sexual harassment.” My jaw ticks. “To add insult to injury, loud mouths on the internet are going apeshit crazy, chanting, ‘Nail the motherfucker’without knowing the facts.”
“Is there any truth to the accusations?”
I shake my head. “No, Phoenix. Not a shred of truth.”
“You’re certain?”
“I am. Matthew would never do that.”
Phoenix frowns.
I lean into him. “There are certain things I can’t reveal right now.”
He nods. “Got it.”
I take another swig of my drink.
