In a manner of speaking.
Fucking Christ, I'm going to hell, aren't I?
You don't gotta lie to me.
The worst part is that the crowd is still clapping and looking at me as I make my way without any outward sign of distress.
I'm shaking Parker Trask's hand and looking out at them from the podium.
I know what they want to hear.
But all I can see is one woman.
The girl at the bar. She's standing up now. Her wide innocent eyes are taking me in. Her breath catches when she sees me looking at her and I look at the rise and fall of her breasts—even from all the way over here—and I start to forget who I am and what I'm fucking doing.
But just like the applause can take you by surprise, its quick death can be something that jolts you back to the present as well.
That's what happens to me and all of a sudden, I'm facing at least four hundred people dressed in their finest.
My mind completely fucking blanks as to what to say.
To be fair, when Joyce set me up with this speaking engagement, she gave me a list of things to say. I even have them here in my jacket pocket. I just have to get them out and read them.
But somehow, after seeing Pen
ny, it doesn't seem like it's doing enough justice.
I know. I sound like an absolute fucking idiot. It doesn't matter what I say, as long as I say it and get the photo op, right?
That's what Joyce would say.
And normally, even for something like that I'd fucking begrudge her. But not today.
"Ladies and gentlemen," I say into the microphone. "Most of you won't know this, but I'm really wealthy."
There's a smattering of laughter from around the crowd. Actually a fair bit of laughter.
It's not that everyone around me at this dinner today is super fucking wealthy. Some people don't even have a net worth past 1,000,000 dollars.
But that's not what I meant before you start to roll your eyes.
"I'm not talking about money," I say to clarify. That's right. I'm clarifying for everyone. "I'm talking about opportunity."
Now there's silence. Could it be that people loved my hook?
"I was born in New York City," I state. "Actually in this hospital itself. Then I lived with my parents on the Upper East Side. My parents aren't around now, but it's not hard to imagine my father and mother coming through the doors to this great hospital to schedule my birth. Hospital stays were expensive back then, and my parent's were modest. They didn't have much money. But my father was friends with the doctors. My mother went shopping with the secretary pool. So when they came into this hospital, they were treated like royalty."
People are quiet. They're listening to me speak. They must think I have something prepared for them to hear.
But the truth of the matter is that my brain is too jumbled now to recite or remember any of the talking points that I had. I'm just speaking from the heart now.
"Treating people like royalty is something that at Davion Development, we strive to do day in and day out," I say to them. I notice a few raised eyebrows.
What? You don't believe me?
"We make sure that any new construction for condominiums or residential towers includes at least 20% of the units allocated for low-income subsidized housing. Then we offer this housing to the people we're displacing," I say. Silence.
They're listening.