Chapter 160
So, I spilled the beans about my spat with Hogan to Wallis.
Honestly, I was pretty chill about how things have panned out, but one thing’d still got me on pins and needles.
Hogan was a smart cookie, and like he said, he’d got a zillion ways. to snag the deets on the party.
But once he dug up the dirt, was he gonna sniff out where
FreeMan’s at too?
After I filled her in, Wallis went into think mode. “The shindig’s at seven tomorrow night. I’ve been lurking in FreeMan’s fan group like there’s no tomorrow, totally blending in with the super fans. If all goes well, FreeMan’s gonna spill the beans on his travels tomorrow. We’ll follow the breadcrumbs and give it our all.”
Wallis‘ pep talk gave me a bit of peace of mind.
The next afternoon, Timothy showed up on cue at the hotel to whisk me away to the tailor.
He rolled up in a classic old–timer, decked out in a retro tunic suit, looking every bit the distinguished gent.
The vintage ride bumped along the twisty mountain roads, taking a scenic detour before pulling up to a quaint courtyard.
As we got out, a super polite waiter came up to greet us. Timothy nonchalantly flicked the car keys his way and asked, “Everyone here yet?”
“Almost, Mr. Temple,” the waiter replied with utmost respect, “Mr.
Chapter 160
Abbott and the others are waiting in the main hall.”
Timothy nodded slightly and shot me a look before leading me down the corridor.
The place was tranquil, with ornate carvings and paintings, the whole yard a picture–perfect slice of paradise.
Soon enough, I caught the sound of laughter, with women’s voices sweet and men’s laid–back. Even before laying eyes on them, I could feel the good vibes.
Sure enough, as Timothy and I stepped into the main hall, we saw a
group
of guys and gals mingling. The men were decked out in dapper suits, while the ladies were stunning in their own ways, like straight out of old–time big cities.
“Isn’t that Mr. Temple? And who’s this knockout? Haven’t seen her around before.”
Some dude was eyeing me up, not exactly playing it cool.
“Put a lid on it, will ya?” Timothy shot back with a serious glare, then introduced me to the crowd, “This is Xaviera, the big–shot IT whiz. Even I have to admire her talent.”
After that intro, the previous brazen stares turned respectful, and someone kicked things off with, “Hello Xaviera, have a seat.”
A couple of dress–clad beauties swarmed around me, ushering me to the center seat, making me feel all bashful.
Timothy played it cool, “You’re my senior, after all. They’re just doing what’s right.”
I glanced at the gals serving me tea, feeling a twinge of something.
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