Page 7 of Pride
“He always nails it,” a deep voice said from behind as I was crouching to snap a section depicting a child on his knees, eyes closed, praying to a sky that had the words, ‘I see humans but no humanity’ written in the grey clouds.
I stood up and turned to find a young man with a lanyard similar to mine standing behind me, smiling. I was a little taller than him, and from the way he tried to hide his frown, I don’t think he liked that.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I replied, still slightly in awe of the complexity of the art, the images, the messages they conveyed, and because I needed something to say. I felt so damn awkward.
“And you never will,” he stated, a haughty proudness in his response as he glanced from me to the wall of art. “S.K.A.M. is a unique talent. There’s no one like him.”
“S.K.A.M.?” I asked, my brow furrowed, and he pointed to the bottom right-hand corner of the wall.
“That’s his tag name. S.K.A.M. No one knows his real name. But his pieces are always the highlight of our shows. We’re lucky he’s doing a live performance in our courtyard tonight at nine o’clock. He doesn’t often appear in person. And I promise you, you really don’t want to miss it, Miss...” he peered down at my lanyard to try and read my name, but when he saw it only said Press, he cleared his throat and thrust his arm out to me. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Lloyd Fairwell. I’m the head curator here at Berkeley.”
I took his outstretched hand to shake it. Lloyd appeared to be one of those men who was agreeable at surface level, but I got the feeling my ears would burn if I walked away now. He seemed to have an edge, like he was someone I wouldn’t want to make an enemy of. I felt it in the way he peered around the room, shaking my hand, but with one eye on what was going on around him. Like he needed to know everything, and didn’t want to miss out. If the opportunity came along to speak to someone more influential or prettier, he’d probably take it.
“Oh, wow,” I replied, slowly removing my hand from his grasp and discreetly wiping the clamminess he’d left on my palm down the front of my dress. “I’m glad I found you then. I would love to get your thoughts on the evening, and maybe a few quotes for our readers.”
He smiled wide, but his eyes were void of emotion as he regarded me and asked, “And you are?”
“Emma. Emma Belmont. I’m from the Merivale Echo.”
He took a cautious step back after I’d announced who I was. A clear indication he wasn’t a fan of our newspaper.
“Ah. You’re the one they sent in his place,” he said with a hint of suspicion.
“I was Mr Gold’s plus one, yes.” I was determined to maintain my confidence despite the look he was giving me. “But he was turned away at the door.” I figured I might as well be truthful. There was no point sugarcoating it.
“Plus one?” Lloyd frowned and shook his head. “He wasn’t given the option to bring a plus one. It was clearly explained to Mr Gold that if he wanted to cover this event, he had to send another representative from his...organisation.” He leaned a little closer to me, and in a hushed tone, he added, “Our director is not Mr Gold’s biggest fan. But I’m sure you know all about that.”
I didn’t. But I nodded like I understood, and he went on, “Gold can’t help himself. He always wants an in whenever the trio are in attendance at an event.” He tilted his head, gesturing towards a group of immaculately dressed and very intimidating men, standing in the far corner of the gallery, deep in conversation with each other as the rest of the gallery gave them furtive looks and glances that showed how revered they were. It was clear to me then that everyone here wished they were standing in that circle.
“I have no idea who they are,” I stated, and Lloyd’s brow hit his hairline.
“You don’t know the trio?” he paused a little too dramatically for my liking, but I went along with his theatrics, hanging on his words as he said, “Alex Kingston, Ethan Moore, and Tobey Falstead are three of the most influential men in this room.Probably in the whole city. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of them, being a reporter.”
I didn’t want to tell him I wasn’t a reporter yet, just the assistant that got roped into being Mr Gold’s lackey when he clearly knew he wasn’t getting in tonight.
God, I hated that man.
Even with the carrot dangling on a stick, promising that I might get a promotion from this, he still managed to make me feel like a prize fool. I wished I could have done some bloody research for this. I dreaded to think what Lloyd thought of me. But if he did think I was a hopeless reporter, he didn’t show it. Instead, he stared at the trio in admiration as he regaled me with the merits of each one.
I stared at the trio, too. There was a shorter man with blond hair who had a smile permanently etched on his face as he laughed along with his friends. Next to him stood a brown-haired man who was nodding and hanging on the groups every word, talking occasionally, but he seemed happier to let the others have the floor. And then, there was the tallest one. A dark-haired man who was the best-looking of the group. In fact, he was hands down the most handsome man in this room. His jet-black hair was styled to perfection, his jaw chiselled, and his cheekbones defined. He looked like he’d stepped right out of the pages of GQ Magazine with his natural tan and muscular build, all perfectly wrapped in a designer suit. And don’t get me started on the hint of a neck tattoo that was just above his shirt collar. He was the kind of man you couldn’t stop staring at from across a crowded room. But I knew, if I was in front of him, I’d probably struggle to look him in the eye. I’d struggle to speak, too, and no doubt say something wildly inappropriate despite myself. Sometimes my brain functioned a second or two behind my mouth.
Mr GQ had an air about him. He didn’t smile like the blond, or nod along like the brunette. He stood tall and seemed to control the conversation, from what I could tell. He was like the master. The conductor of the trio.
“Tobey Falstead is the creator of Linto. He’s the blond one, by the way,” Lloyd stated, cutting through my reverie. “And Linto isthemost cutting-edge dating app. One of the top twenty dating apps in the U.K., actually. It’s an amazing creation.”
“Really?” my voice sounded impressed, but I’d never heard of Linto, and I could only name about three dating apps off the top of my head. Maybe four. Definitely not twenty. So, I’d have to take Lloyd’s word for it that it was amazing.
“Are you on there?” Lloyd asked, and instantly, I wrinkled my nose as I said, “No.”
He didn’t look impressed with my response and ignored it completely.
“Tobey is a visionary,” he continued, overselling the man he clearly idolised. “His grandfather founded the Hanby chocolate empire, but Tobey is using the family name to steer it into the digital era.”
My eyes bugged.
I knew what Hanby chocolate was. I ate it most days. It was a household name. Fuck me, there was some money standing in that corner, all right.
“And then there’s Ethan Moore,” he went on. “That’s the brown-haired guy next to Tobey. He’s heavily into tech. I don’t know all the ins and outs, but I know he works at Silicon Valley. He’s only over here in the U.K. for this event, then he flies back tomorrow.”
