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“I did and I have to admit, even though I’m not a big fan of his other work, Bastian Conti bested himself in this flick. At least this one had an intriguing plot.” She prodded Paxton. “There he is— like the tabloids states, always surrounded by women.”

“Hmm, one in particular seems to be glued to his side.”

“I don’t recognize her as an actress.” Knox took a picture and sent it off to Jordan before she made a quick call. “Hey, girl, I just sent you a photo of Bastian with four women. Please identify the brunette in the blue dress.”

They accepted champagne from a passing waiter.

“It’s Mia Kunz, a Swiss model who immigrated to the U.S. eighteen months ago,” Jordan said moments later.

“Anything about her and Bastian in the tabloids?”

Paxton stared at the way the young woman ran her hands over the older man’s chest as she listened to the conversation over the speaker phone.

“Nothing, except a couple of photos at other gala events where she seems to always be loitering in the background wherever he is.”

“Got it. Thanks, girlfriend. Keep digging into her background. Let us know if anyone jumps out at you or if you find something of interest.” Knox ended the call with her eyes on their target.

“I’m going to start joining conversations to see if I can separate celebs from business associates,” Paxton said. “See if you can wrangle an introduction to the man of the moment. It would be interesting to gauge Miss Kunz’s reaction to some unexpected competition.”

“Now you’re talking.” She smiled broadly as she brazenly plumped up her breasts and squared her shoulders. “And here I thought I wasn’t going to have any fun today.”

Paxton didn’t respond. She was already zeroing in on groups that were awkwardly out of place with all the glitz and glamor.

“Refill, Miss?”

“Yes, thanks. Isn’t that lovely.” She picked out a glass of Rosé and took a sip as she started to circle the Olympic size pool that glistened in the sun. Her ears pricked up as she listened to the various topics under discussion. They were mainly focused on views of the premiere everyone had watched earlier. Some discussed preferred vacation spots and then there was the odd conversation about the dire state of the COVID-19 pandemic that was crippling the world. She was quite taken with the variety of fashion face masks the women wore and that everyone seemed to practice social distancing.

“It's how business works in the real world.”

The certainty of the statement drew Paxton’s attention. She paused at an iron lace railing to remain within earshot while stealing furtive glances of the participants. There was a middle-aged man who stood head and shoulders above the wiry one who had just spoken. It was the way he carried himself that made her suspect he was an outsider— a businessman. His portly frame was swathed in the sartorial splendor of Savile Row linen. A small, familiar looking woman orbited the two men looking to enter into the conversation.

“Isn’t that a little oversimplified, Mr. Paul?” Paxton’s attention moved to the voice asking the question. Her memory sparked as she recognized her.

Well, well, what do we have here. Fancy seeing Thea Sutro here.

She was the founder and CEO of a well-known sex toy company. Thea had earned a reputation in the business world as an activist and leader for the Equal Rights Act. She was known to challenge venture capitalists in regard to their insular policies aimed at boosting the bottom line of large conglomerates rather than offering the much-needed funding to entrepreneurs and small businesses.

Paxton snapped an image and sent it to Jordan with a message to phone her once she identified Mr. Paul. She was particularly interested in information on the distinguished gentleman she’d been watching.

Paxton’s ears perked up to the yet unidentified man’s deep voice. The tone was drenched in ridicule, indicating his dislike for Mr. Paul as he sided with Thea. Rival opinions weren't uncommon at events like these but overt disrespect was rare.

“Mrs. Sutro is right. With the volatility created in the world as a result of the pandemic, businesses have to ask themselves if they’re benefitting the consumer or exploiting them, especially in relation to the example they’re setting for our youth. For what is real business acumen other than making wise decisions that keep the shareholder happy while at the same time producing something of value instead of just making money. My father always compared the glorification of unbridled greed and speculation to that of Icarus who became so intoxicated by flight that he flew too close to the golden Sun and melted the wax from his wings. He was a wise man who taught me from an early age that unrestrained greed is the product of an arrogant and self-destructive mind.”

Mr. Paul bristled visibly under the cleverly disguised insult, which Paxton surmised was by a man who had achieved success with his integrity and morals still intact.

Mr. Paul squared his shoulders. “Maybe you missed the point,” he said, sharply. “We buy stock in the health insurance industry, Big Pharma and privately run prisons. They’re all tied together. Incarceration is big business. Two-point-two million adults are behind bars. In California alone, it costs about $81k a year per inmate. More than half of that goes to security and healthcare. Add in food stocks and other collateral services and you have a goose that keeps laying golden eggs."

Paxton’s phone vibrated. She walked back to the iron rail before she answered.

“You’re rubbing elbows with the elite of the business world, Paxton,” Jordan said. “The thin man is Jack Paul, who dabbles in a little of everything. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize him. He’s the CEO of Allmart, the biggest domestic retail operation.”

“So that’s why he looked familiar. What about the thickset man?”

“Thomas Serra, born 1957, is a hedge fund manager, philanthropist, environmentalist, liberal activist, and fundraiser.”

“Hold on,” Paxton racked her brain as the penny dropped. “If memory serves, he’s the founder and former managing partner of Faradon Capital, right?”

“Correct. He also co-founded First California Bank, which became State Beneficiary Bank, an Oakland-based community development bank.”

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