Chapter 567: New York City
Tuesday, February 28th, Night
The night was late, and the crowds were still lively. She sat quietly, watching; it was her way. Typically, one of two things would happen, they would notice her, and men, sometimes women, would try to pick her up or ignore her. She was unremarkable in most cases, short, barely five foot two inches tall, very slight frame, almost boyish build, with average colored brown hair. If they noticed anything, it was her eyes; they were intelligent and predatory. Most people wouldn't even know one of the wealthiest single women in the city was sitting among them. That was why she kept a low profile, just another move in the chess match that's life.
Fallon Stafford kept an eye on a trader. He came in with his buddies, and he added to her tasks. Fallon had only seen pictures of Bietio Hawk, but her friend Ellie was interested in him, and Ellie shouldn't be hurt. Bietio seemed to behave himself.
A trader looked over to Fallon. She saw the look in his eyes; this wasn't good. He wants fresh meat, and he targets Fallon. She swirled her drink and took a sip.
The trader extricated himself from the group and walked over. He gave Fallon a drunken smile with perfect teeth; he must have spent a lot of money on that smile.
"Hello, it's such a crime," he said.
"What is such a crime?" Fallon asked and took a sip of her drink.
"Such a beautiful woman; sitting her all alone," he said.
"You're never alone when you have daemons," Fallon said.
"What are you drinking?" he asked.
"Glenfiddich 21 year Gran Reserva," Fallon said dryly and sipped her drink.
"A woman after my own heart," he said.
"Let me guess, trader of some sort," Fallon said.
"Yes, I'm a…." he started to say.
"Also, you just closed a big deal and made a big commission, right?" Fallon asked.
"Yes, how'd you know?" he asked.
"Whatever you made, I made before I picked my head off my pillow this morning," Fallon said.
"What?" he asked.
"You can go back to your friend, laugh about how I wasn't good enough or a fucking dyke, as you'd probably call me, but just know that you ran across a true alpha and nearly pissed yourself," Fallon said.
"Wh-wh-what?" he asked.
"You heard the lady," another male voice said. Fallon looked up and saw who she was meeting. Grant Coyle said as he walked over to the booth. Fallon looked up at the trader, smiled, and sipped her whisky, then waved bye with her free hand.
The trader walked away in disbelief. Grant took a seat opposite Fallon.
"What was that about?" Grant asked.
"A gamma is looking to prove he could be an alpha," Fallon said.
"Oh! Thank god I'm a sigma," Grant said.
"That's a good thing," Fallon said.
"So," Grant said.
"So," Fallon said and took a sip of her drink.
"Why do you do what you do? Why did you pretend to be someone you're not?" Grant asked.
"It's not totally pretending, Grant, but I get what you mean," Fallon said.
"So, why?" Grant asked.
"Do you know anything about my story?" Fallon asked.
"You're rich with a capital r, and both your parents are dead," Grant said.
"My mom died on the Montauk Highway in a car accident; she was heavily intoxicated. Her side piece died with her. My grandma and dad raised me until I was sixteen," Fallon showed Grant her man's Rolex, "This was my last present from my grandma; she thought I was a boy; dementia had taken hold tightly by that time."
"So, you wear it?" Grant asked.
"It's how I remember her," Fallon said.
"Your father?" Grant asked.
"We moved to Tree Hill, he wanted a simpler life, and he met my stepmom. My dad enjoyed being down there and just being Baldwin. One night he went to get gas and was murdered in a botched robbery. My stepmom raised me, as one of her own, after," Fallon said.
"Is that where Adams came from?" Grant asked.
"Yes, her three daughters from her first marriage were Adams," Fallon said.
"You said you have four sisters," Grant said.
"I do, Kendall, or Keni, my youngest sister is my dad and stepmom's daughter," Fallon said.
"So, why the games?" Grant asked.
"I was sixteen when I was handed the keys to the kingdom; from then on, I was never sure if people wanted me or my money," Fallon said.
"So, it's a test?" Grant asked.
"A test, defense mechanism, weird fetish, perversion, I've heard it all," Fallon said.
"So, why do it?" Grant asked.
"Because there is still that scared sixteen-year-old girl who was sitting in an empty house with a knife thinking of ending it," Fallon said.
Grant nodded, "You know something, Fallon," he said.
"What?" Fallon asked.
"You'll never know if you aren't true to yourself," Grant said.
Fallon nodded and sipped her drink.
"I wasn't going to come," Grant said.
"Why did you?" Fallon asked.
"Breann convinced me to," Grant said.
"Why?" Fallon asked.
"She said, how we looked at each other," Grant said.
"Yeah?" Fallon asked, puzzled.
Grant nodded, "Alex said the same thing," she said.
"Alex, really?" Fallon asked.
"Yes," Grant said.
"Okay, I wouldn't expect that from Alex," Fallon said.
"Yeah, she's also full of surprises," Grant said, "I have an early morning, so I have to cut this short."
"I have to be at the foundation tomorrow," Fallon said.
"We'll talk soon," Grant said, got up, and left.
Fallon nodded and finished her drink.
