"Ha ha ha ha ha..."
"What, you throw on a blazer and slick your hair into a side part, and suddenly you're some government big shot?"
"By that logic, I could buy a royal robe and call myself king!"
Fred was the first to burst out laughing.
Just as I expected.
They'd never believe me.
I shook my head with a resigned smile and decided not to bother arguing.
Someone in the group spoke up. "Mr. Gilbert, when are we going inside? Why are we waiting out here?"
"Do you even know where we are?"
"This is The Grandview Pavilion. Even someone of Mr. Gilbert's status has to make a reservation and wait in line."
"The fact that he got us all in to see the place—that alone shows how much pull he has."
Fred let out a derisive laugh.
"The Grandview Pavilion—what's the big deal about it?"
"I've been away for a long time and only recently came back. I'm not really up to speed on these things."
The same person asked again.
This time, Fred kept his mouth shut. It was Melvin's turn to show off.
Melvin flashed a cryptic smile and leaned back against his Bugatti Veyron, lighting a cigarette.
"The Grandview Pavilion, in principle, isn't open to the public."
"When this place was built, the owner designed it specifically for entertaining distinguished guests."
"Or when the city government lands a major investment deal during trade summits—they'll host the reception here."
"Forget me—even my father doesn't have the clout to get a membership card to this place."
At this point, Melvin glanced at me with a half-smile. "The only reason I'm here today is because Sharon lent me her membership card. Otherwise, neither my father nor I would have the standing to bring people here."
"What?"
"Sharon lent you something that important?"
"Mr. Gilbert, you need to step up your game! I think you and Sharon actually have a shot!"
Fred said this with exaggerated enthusiasm.
I knew it was aimed at me, but I didn't feel like arguing anymore.
"I hope so. I'll keep trying," Melvin said with a modest smile. Then his expression shifted to something almost reverent. "You probably don't realize this, but the owner of this place has connections that go all the way to the top. He's got ties in the capital—it's no exaggeration to say his voice reaches the highest corridors of power. If I could get on his good side, our family's entire business empire could level up overnight."
"The owner's connections aren't that impressive," I said casually.
"Oh, you know him?" Fred sneered. "Honestly, Swanson, if you actually knew the owner of this place, you wouldn't be dressed like that and showing up in a cab."
"There's got to be a limit to the bullshit you spew."
Melvin shot me a sidelong look. "Swanson, if the owner heard you running your mouth like this, all it would take is one word from him, and you'd never work anywhere in this country again. Do you have the slightest clue how the upper echelons operate?"
"Mr. Gilbert, you said it yourself—upper echelons. How would a bottom-feeder like him know anything about that?" Fred scoffed.
I sighed and walked off to the side to smoke.
Their worldview was limited. The circles they moved in were limited. That was exactly why they didn't believe a word I said.
My return to work wasn't exactly a secret, but it hadn't been publicized either. At their level, they had no idea where I stood now.
I wasn't going to waste energy on it. I just wanted to get through this as quickly as possible and never see any of them again.
That was when a Maserati pulled up. Pink.
The door swung open, and a woman with long legs in black stockings stepped out.
Even Melvin dropped everything and rushed over the moment he saw her.
"Nancy Galloway! You made it!"
"I wasn't sure you'd have time to come."
