“Your mother is interested in taking a tour of our new offices here,” says Mark with a smile spreading across his face. “We love to explain what we do to our investors.”
He looks from me to Aleta waiting for a reply to make an appointment for a tour visit.
“How welcoming you are, Mark, but let me explain it to you more. My mother has a lot of responsibility for her and she sacrifices her time a lot with the church because they are so helpful with my father’s businesses and she loves to give back,” I say motioning for Aleta to explain further.
“My grandmother goes to church with Lowell’s mother. We heard about your charitable work in New York, and as a native New Yorker, I wonder if you could continue your tradition down here in Palm Beach County. The church is having a fundraiser for new landscaping since the last storm took down some trees and made a wreck of the grounds. The older ladies are so happy about making things grow and having something to take care of besides aging spouses. They have a leader of their gardening venture, Mrs. Villery. She loves to talk, and has a beautiful green thumb.”
Aleta sits back in her chair and waits for a reaction from Mark Marion at the mention of the Villery name, but he continues to exhibit the same polite smile to her dismay.
“Let me not waste anymore of your precious time, Mr. Marion. My grandmother is helping to put together this fundraiser and wanted to bring in some of the more successful residents to talk to the youth in the church as a type of motivation segment. You know, something along the lines of a “How I Created Success” kind of speech. It would be a huge draw for the people of the church. Most of them are doing okay, but they are not interesting, successful people the young kids would be interested in hearing from. They want to hear from people they can make a connection with, titans who are big on automation and social media, you know what I mean. My grandmother feeling she is too old and out of touch to talk with you, asked me to come by and ask if you could be one of the speakers. It doesn’t have to be anything long, maybe a fifteen minute speech. The kids can’t stay focused that long anyway. They would be so grateful if you could commit your time with them for a quick inspiring word.”
“I will be happy to do it,” says Shelby beaming. “I’m honored you would ask me. It’s nice to hear Mrs. Bartlett thinks highly of me. Since I’ve moved down here, I’m beginning to understand how these storms can ravage our natural surroundings. I will be happy to donate a small token to the fundraiser along with giving my time.”
Aleta begins to squirm around in her chair. She’s probably nervous about hearing those words leave his lips.
How can she accept a token when there is no fundraiser at her grandmother’s church?
It’s almost comical. I have to hold it together.
She won’t take his gift unless I signal her to do it.
I know she eyes him as a possible suspect in a murder. She shifts her weight in the chair, again. I want to laugh so badly.
“I would be happy to accept your token,” she says.
Okay, she’s a deceitful bitch.
I like her style.
“My grandmother and her gardening friends would be so grateful, but I better not accept the money because knowing me, I may misplace it. I will put something down and then forget where I put it thirty minutes later. I would prefer you to give it directly to Pastor Whitaker or you can send it to the Palm Beach Family Worship Center.”
“I sure will,” says Mark calling for his assistant to come to the office.
She walks in a few seconds later.
“Debbie, make out a check for me for one thousand dollars because I don’t want to forget about it.”
The…
His assistant, a blonde haired young woman with a heart-shaped face and red lipstick, does as she was told without a word. She enjoys receiving orders. I know this because I ordered her to give me head last summer. She wanted to continue the fling, but I’m done with her.
I have this mysterious brunette to turn me on hotter than any other chick has ever done.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ilook back and forth from the blonde hair of his assistant to the sandy brown hair of Mr. Mark Marion and decide to pursue my curiosity further.
“Let me tell you to thank you again, Mr. Marion, and my grandmother will be appreciative too. I will get the date of the fundraiser to you as soon as possible. I wish I had it fo you now, but they have not decided on a set day. I will talk to some other business owners in Palm Beach as well. I would like to talk to the Magan’s over the pool company and I have a friend that knows a fashion designer we can bring in to the fundraiser. I will also talk to Mr. Phillipson because he is a very well known man around the area and Ms. Edwards loves fundraisers involving the environment. Another person who is big on those issues is Mr. York if he decides to come back home anytime soon.”
“Oh yeah,” says Mr. Marion. “I heard about him going off somewhere, but I must tell you, Leta?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m glad he’s taking a little vacation. I’m trying to make a lucrative deal between our two companies and his shareholders a little friendlier to me about it than they are at the moment. It will be much easier getting this partnership done without him and then when he decides to make an appearance, I will be glad to tell him all about it.”
An image of Alan York tied to a chair in the basement of Mark Marion’s home until the deal
