Ronald arrived in a dark suit and red tie, his favorite performance costume for men he wanted to impress. Priscilla followed behind him in pearls and a pale blue dress, looking like a woman prepared to forgive people she had already tried to destroy.
Graham Kessler waited at the head of the table.
He was heavyset, bald, and motionless, the kind of man who did not waste expressions on people beneath a certain net worth.
Three investors sat with him.
Ronald shook hands.
Smiled.
Ordered coffee.
Then began the lie.
“As you know,” he said, placing folders before them, “my transition from marriage into independent operations has created certain optics, but my relationship with Harrison remains strong.”
Kessler did not open the folder.
“Does it?”
Ronald’s smile tightened. “Of course.”
Priscilla leaned forward. “Alexis has always been emotional. But she knows family comes first.”
Kessler finally opened the folder.
