The champagne bottles hadn't been opened yet and the hors d'oeuvres no doubt were in their final stages of preparation for the gala that would follow the award ceremony. The hundreds of guests invited including some of the most influential and wealthiest residents of Port Charles would be arriving many in limousines and all valet parked at the Regency Hotel, one of the classiest in this industrious town.
The sound system was still being set up and the emcee researching his lines while being made up by a couple of fussy artists lingering around him. There would be 10 award recipients this year representing different fields and industries from art and entertainment, to business and commerce, to sports. It would be one of the hottest attended events of the year where bullet proof vests weren't required.
But it wouldn't get started until the awardees showed up at the front door along with the presenters and the media. One such media mogul planned to be in attendance covering the gala for his syndicate of publications and internet news sites.
Derek Wells had been trying to finish up last minute paperwork on the 15th floor of his office after having flown in from a business trip in the Far East. Jet lagged and tired, he had really wanted to drive home to his spread just outside of town instead of attending an award ceremony where they would serve overcooked food, watered down liquor and pulling at his bow tie on his tux the whole time.
He didn't have another reporter to cover the event. Crystal, from the entertainment beat had to cancel out because she had left to catch a plane to L.A. to read for a bit part in an action thriller, well actually she had left the job. A note written on his desk had informed him that she needed a career where she felt more artistically fulfilled, closer to the subjects she wrote about for the newspaper. You see, as a budding actress she needed to be seen at the right events and photographed just when she had shown up wearing the perfect dress, her hair styled just right and lip gloss freshly applied.
Frankly he had felt he had been dating a Barbie doll that walked and talked and did…a few other things very well. And running through his Rolodex in the eleventh hour before the ceremony didn't yield him much luck…which meant…he'd be on his own perfectly fine with him.
Still that had left him shorthanded so he had to dust off the much hated tux and spent the afternoon brushing up on the dossiers of the award recipients from different career fields.
One of which naturally attracted his attention right away.
"Hey Alexis…"
She stuck her head cautiously in her office, smiling because she was glad to see him but a bit wary because when he used that tone…that cajoled even as it flattered…she knew to be on her toes, ready to be firm and just tell him no.
"What's up Jax?"
He smiled back at her, sitting comfortably in her space.
"Oh come on Alexis, neither of us have dates to this shindig…and we're both getting free dinner and drinks with the awards. Heard the entertainment's top notch too…"
She took one step closer and folded her arms.
"I'm not sure I'm going yet. I might stay home and reorganize my pantry."
He chuckled, and she knew why. They'd been married to each other after all.
"Alexis…you don't cook," he said, "we lived on takeout and microwave popcorn."
She nodded.
"Not that I minded…the fringe benefits…"
She put her hand up.
"Okay…but you know how I feel about events like this one. I'd just rather spend a quiet evening.
He paused to think about that…and he had to choose his words carefully because of the favor he had to ask.
"Well I feel the same way…but since we're both in the same boat here…we could travel together."
A self-depreciating laugh slipped from her lips.
"Or go down with it…"
Jax laughed.
"Oh come on Alexis…it's really not going to be that bad…"
She sighed, reaching for her iced tea.
"My favorite ex…"
"You're only ex…unless you're hiding another one."
She pursed her lips.
"Whatever…Jax…always the optimist. Okay I'll go tonight and pick up the damn award.
He leaned back in her chair, the leather squeaking and grinned at her like a little boy going to the amusement park as she shook her head.
She idly wondered if she could find a decent dress this late. She did know she owned one pair of kick ass heels.
Derek studied the photos sprawled in front of him as part of the media packet for the star studded event.
Heart surgeon Monica Quartermaine. Business owner Luke Spencer, he pushed that one aside. He was fairly sure that the former mayor would be a no show. Nikolas Cassadine, who ran his family's multi-billion dollar conglomerate and donated millions to worthy causes through his charitable foundation.
Jasper Jacks, the corporate raider who collected businesses as if it were a hobby rather than a vocation. His parents, wealthy and his brother Jerry, not one to be trusted.
Several other faces attracted his attention momentarily before moving along to the next, as his mind absorbed their bios committing them to memory.
Then he moved onto the last one, of the town's top litigator. Alexis Davis who had won three criminal trials last year and oversaw the acquisition of a half dozen corporations to Cassadine Industries.
She smiled at him, that killer smile of hers that could melt the polar ice caps and then refreeze them in a heartbeat. No doubt she had done that to those who opposed her in any arena whether it be the boardroom or the courtroom.
Or a couple…other venues.
Damn she looked beautiful, with her dark hair pinned up and her hazel eyes looking amused right now. Her lips curling into a smile and wearing a woolen gray dress that hugged her ample curves…the photo had been taken while she'd finished a court case as she had her satchel tucked under an arm.
Those same eyes could harden in an instant, a trait of her lineage. The Cassadines were a powerful cabal of alpha males not to be trifled with…he imagined there were a few alpha females in the mix as well.
Yet her eyes could be inquisitive, with an attention to detail just as the harsh edges of her face could soften enough to warm a man's soul.
He didn't know how he knew this. He just knew it was so.
Carly shrieked, tossing cocktail dresses right and left on the floor of the penthouse. The man with her just rolled his eyes, but out of her sight.
The diva in front of him could quickly turn into a shrew. Or a harpy with really long talons. If the boss hadn't been paying overtime to babysit his latest moll, Max would have gone to the fights with Coleman.
But now he was stuck. Because boss man wanted to wear Carly on his arm while attending some posh award ceremony at the Hotel where awards would be handed out like candy.
"I'm not doing it…"
He looked up at where she know leaned against the doorway looking peeved.
"Boss says you're going…"
She flipped her hair back, haughtily.
"He can't tell me what to do," she said, "Who does he think he is? Besides I'm not showing up. It's not like I'm winning anything."
Max sighed at her narcissism but that's how the boss liked his women for some reason.
"Why am I going again? They are NOT giving an award to that loser A.J. are they? I mean how can they do that and give Jason NOTHING?"
Max shrugged.
"No one said the world was a fair place."
She pressed her lips together.
"And to even think of giving anything to that Alexis," Carly continued, "I mean the woman needs some better threads to start with…she probably scared Ned away. Do you know that Sonny's actually thinking of using her as a lawyer?"
Max had heard that already. But diplomacy mattered in situations such as this one.
"He'd better think twice about that…and Jax…why isn't Sonny getting anything?"
Max didn't want to point out the obvious, that having ties to organized crime was an automatic disqualifier.
He didn't want to invite any trouble on himself.
Inside the hotel room, the man unpacked his suitcase after checking into his suite. He looked at his watch. Not much time to prepare before he had to head off to the gala tonight where he'd be face to face with his intended target.
He gazed at the photo he held in his gloved hand. The face that stared back at him had no idea that this might be the last night of their lives.