CHAPTERTWO
HENRY
Henry stared at the laptop screen in front of him and laced his fingers in front of his mouth, watching his own image in the camera mimic him.
He wasn’t typically one to be such a hard ass about negotiations, but there was something about making his benefactors sweat a little that made his job have some type of thrill.
“Is that something that you’d be interested in, Mr. Darrow?”
Henry smirked behind his hands, making sure to keep the rest of his face neutral. He didn’t miss the slight inflection in Farring’s voice. In fact, it was one of the tells he had that gave him away the most.
He continued to remain quiet, knowing that one of them was bound to crack…
“Why don’t we re-vote on the gallery again?”
Bingo.
Letting his hands drop away from his face, Henry leaned back in his leather lounge chair and let out a long exhale.
“I want the gallery set up per my design requests. The lighting needs to be functioning at that level, or else none of the pieces are going to be showcased correctly. Not only that, but I do not want any paparazzi photographing inside the gallery at all. It’s going to ruin the entire experience for the guests.”
In the screen’s corner Zoom window, he could see Cunningham frantically writing down his requests on the notepad he was sure had long since been crammed with notes from this meeting.
“The paparazzi need to photograph the event, Mr. Darrow. How else will the media be able to publish anything about it?”
“As I said, they can photograph outside of the building as guests are coming in and out. But that’s it.”
There were a few frowns that graced his screen, but at this point, he really couldn’t care less. If they wanted his money and patronage, they were going to need to follow his terms, or else he’d be looking elsewhere.
“Is that all, Mr. Darrow?”
“And the guest list. I want that finalized.”
Farring sighed at the screen. “I still think you’re going to ostracize half the clientele if you cut down the parties that much.”
Henry shrugged. “All the more reason to publicize what they missed out on. It’s creating FOMO. The more people you force into that state, the more money that rolls in from people desperate to get into the next event.”
“Right…” Next to Farring’s Zoom window, one of the other exhibition hosts, whom he couldn’t remember the name of, shifted uncomfortably.
“Also. Since you’ve all made me late for my appointment by dragging your feet only to get to the same conclusion I gave you twenty minutes into this, I’d like for the museum to make a sizable donation to the charity that my artists pick out.”
Six pairs of eyes blinked at him owlishly.
“I-I beg your pardon?”
“You’re excused. Any further questions?”
Silence followed.
“Perfect. Get me the finalized list by tonight.”
Henry clicked out of the Zoom meeting and sunk back into his chair with a long sigh. His jet had been sitting on the tarmac for the past hour and a half with his staff mulling about, waiting for him to deboard in order for them to finally start cleaning up and go home themselves.
He felt like shit for that and even more pissed that the stupid benefactors had wasted all their time in the end.
No matter how thorough and dummy-proof he made these plans, there was always someone on the board that was stubborn and too stuck in the old ways to see that the future and modernization were upon them.
He sighed again and rubbed his face, feeling the headache inching its way over his skull.