Chapter Seven

Owen let me go home early to prepare for the party and said he would come over to pick me up later. I wore a V-neck dress that looked like a wraparound dress but had a pencil skirt. It was an office dress but I had a little trick, which was to artfully sprinkle glitter to make it sparkle and look like eveningwear. It was a pain to remove later but the dry-cleaner's bill came up to less than if I had to buy my own dress for evenings.

I was all ready when Owen knocked at my door at 7pm. He looked extremely handsome in his tuxedo. It was unfair how some people seemed born to look good in anything. He looked me over with an appreciative eye. "You look pretty," he complimented. "Ready to go, love?"

"Thanks. Yup, I'm ready," I said. "You look very smart yourself."

I locked up and followed him to the carpark where Colin, also dressed in a tux but looking very uncomfortable about it, was waiting in the back of a silver Audi. "I didn't know you guys had a car," I commented.

Owen went to the front passenger door and held it open for me to get in. "We do, on occasion. It's a rental." He shut the door behind me and slid into the driver's seat. The radio was tuned to a popular radio station that played teeny-bopper music. Owen tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along to the music occasionally.

Traffic was surprisingly light and we got to Holson Galleria with little trouble. It was a small independent art gallery located on the outskirts of Notting Hill. A valet, a kid who looked like he barely got his licence and was no doubt hired just for the occasion, took the car to be parked when we arrived. Owen offered me his arm and I let him escort me in. Colin followed behind.

Owen skilfully led me through the gallery, navigating the crowd expertly. He was clearly the social butterfly of the pair. Colin was silent and looked like he would rather be getting dental work done than be here.

The art pieces hanging in the gallery were mainly astronomy and science themed. They looked beautiful but few people seemed to be taking much interest in them. Most of the attendees we passed were engaged in their own conversations in their little groups, and munching on canapés and drinking champagne and wine.

We entered the function room, where the heart of the party was and approached a man whom I recognised from photographs as Alex James. He was talking animatedly with a group of men but excused himself when he saw us approach. In person, he looked older and smaller than I had expected, but also looked very confident and jovial.

"Ah, Owen, Colin, so glad you made it to my little gathering," he greeted cheerfully, shaking their hands warmly. "And Ms Pieterson, so good to meet you. May I say, you look lovely tonight."

He had taken my hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss. I felt confused and flustered, having never met anyone who did this before and not expecting it right at that moment. I just mumbled something and hoped that it was interpreted as an appropriate response.

"How could we turn down such a gracious invitation, Alex?" Owen said, his arm tightening around mine though his voice bore no trace of tension. "It is a marvellous party. How exactly are you linked to Kerise Pharmaceuticals? Have we missed one of your latest investments?"

"Oh Owen, if you have to ask then you've been lax in your job," Alex replied. "Your information is clearly outdated. Kerise has proven a worthy investment and I've helped them grow both their product line and profits for a while now."

"They were on the brink of total bankruptcy and collapse just one and a half years ago. Did they contact you or you them?" Colin asked.

"I don't deny that my investment team is always on the lookout for new projects and so-called hopeless cases. I'm lucky this is one gamble that paid off," Alex said.

"Even if Kerise collapsed, that's what? Pocket change to you?" Colin retorted.

"I forget to offer you my compliments, Colin. Your head has healed remarkably well and left no sign that it affected your brain, don't you think, Ms Pieterson?" Alex said.

"No thanks to you," Colin said tersely, his eyes narrowed and shooting daggers. I had forgotten about Colin's head injury over the excitement of the past few days and so had no time to wonder how it had recovered so fast. Alex looked smug. Clearly, Round One went to him.

Owen quickly jumped in to defuse the situation. "Well, I'm sure there are others waiting for a chance to grab your attention, Alex. We mustn't be selfish and hog all your time. Come, Danae."

"Enjoy the party, Ms Pieterson," Alex said as Owen firmly steered me away. "I'm sure we'll see more of each other very soon."

Owen whispered something furiously at Colin that ended with something that sounded suspiciously like "behave yourself". Colin melted into the crowd after that and I did not see him until the end of the evening. Meanwhile, Owen kept me close and we wandered through the gallery. Now and then, he would stop and chat with some business associate, and would introduce me. It actually felt quite nice to hang out with Owen. He was a gentleman through and through and knew how to draw people out and make them feel at ease around him.

Soon after, there was an announcement to gather in the main hall for speeches and a toast to the company on its special occasion. I did not pay close attention to the speeches; they always bored me. Alex James also spoke. He was a good speaker, with a commanding magnetic voice. His speech was the usual polite spiel about what a marvellous opportunity it had been to work with Kerise and how lucky he felt to have had the chance to be a part of their corporate developments.

Owen seemed to relax more as the evening progressed. It might have been due to the copious amounts of alcohol being served at the party. He did take several glasses of wine and champagne. He also stopped keeping me on such a tight leash and I actually found myself alone at one point, absorbed in a painting of Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night Over The Rhone. I had only ever seen it in pictures on the Internet.

"Beautiful, isn't it, Ms Pieterson?"

I was startled and turned to see Alex James standing behind me, also taking in the painting. He took a step forward as though to take a better look at the painting. But instead, he leaned in and whispered: "I thought your keeper would never leave. May I have a word with you in private, Ms Pieterson?"

"What is it about?" I asked.

"Let's say I have proposition for you," he answered. "Shall we?" Without waiting for my reply, he firmly led me away, through the crowd and into one of the back offices. It was quiet there – the party had not reached this part of the gallery.

Alex James shut the door behind him. "I hope you'll allow me to call you Danae. Such an exquisite and unusual name, is it not?"

I did not reply. All the warnings Owen had given me about this man came flooding back and I was on high alert. I glanced round to see if there were any escape routes or weapons available. Unfortunately for me, there were none.

"How well do you know Owen Sinclair and Colin Bradley?" he asked.

"I just met them about a week ago," I said.

"I assume they've told you about this childish rivalry we are supposedly engaged in?" he inquired. My blush was all the confirmation he needed. "They always were so melodramatic. Tell me, Danae, do you believe there is truly good and evil in this world?"

Again, he did not wait for me to answer but went on: "No, there is only perception. One man's meat is another man's poison, as the saying goes. This game we're playing, Danae, there are no good guys or bad guys. There are only sides. And now, as I'm sure you have been told, you have to choose one."

"How can I choose sides if I don't know what game you're playing?" I asked.

"They haven't told you?" he realised. "The fools. What were they thinking? Well, here it is, Danae: it's about power, control and to have the ultimate fate of the world resting in your hands. Look at this world – all the pain and destruction and evil. If you could wipe it all away, have a clean slate and start over, would you? Why wouldn't you grab that chance to make this world better?

"You have a choice. It's simple enough. Like life, it comes down to this: Which side do you think will win? Which side will give you a greater advantage?" he pressed. "This is my one-time offer to you. Leave them and work for me. You owe them nothing and I can give you much better terms for your efforts. At my side, you can have riches and power. You could have half the world if you so choose. On the other hand are two strange weird fellows. They would see everything remain as it is and let the world stagnate and not progress. They can offer you nothing and you will always be a nobody with them."

I will not deny that the passion in his voice shook me. What he said did make sense in a way. Assuming he was being metaphorical, being on the team with the highest odds of winning was not a crime. One of the world's most influential and powerful businessmen was offering me a job and a chance to change the world. I should have been grabbing at it with both hands. I had told Owen earlier that I would do as much. So why did I have the feeling it was all wrong? The feeling that maybe he was being literal about creating a clean slate of this world.

"It is tempting," I said. "But I cannot make this decision right now. You were appealing to my sense of morality and right and wrong as well. My loyalty is not always for sale to the highest bidder. I'll have to think on your offer, Mr James."

"Please, Danae, call me Alex," he said. "And while you're considering, think about this too – how well do you really know your colleagues? What do you think you'll find if you scratch the surface just a little?"

"Everyone has skeletons in their closets, Alex," I said.

"I know Owen Sinclair and Colin Bradley. I've sparred with them a very long time. I think you'll find there are more than just skeletons to find. A word of advice: Don't be so quick to trust strangers," he said.

This was all making me uncomfortable and I suddenly felt stifled in this close room. "I think this interview is over," I said, edging towards the door. He made no move to stop me. "Thank you for your offer. I will give everything you said very serious thought."

"And I look forward to hearing from you," he said.