The Protege (7 page)

The
realization suddenly struck her. Sebastian hadn’t simply been invited because
he was the son of the organizer of this fundraiser; he was here to draw in more
people.
He
was the attraction. Of course. How had she not noticed it
before?  His name was important in Hollywood. His music had won several awards,
including two Oscars and a Tony. Then again, his notoriety at the university
was nothing to sneeze at.

He
had everything, she concluded; looks, talent, smarts, money and looks.  Oh, she
thought with a private smile.  She’d already said looks.  Well, it was worth
repeating.

After
a few moments, Sebastian returned, a sincere grin that begged her forgiveness
on his lips.  “I’d promised myself I wouldn’t leave your side again tonight,
but I already find myself having to break that promise.”

“I
really hadn’t suspected you’d be this popular.”

“Yeah,”
he said with a wry chuckle.  “A lot of people have underestimated me like that
over the years.”

Serena
was about to defend her statement when she caught his teasing gaze.

“I’d
forgotten all about it, but I have a little speech I have to give before
dinner.” He took her by the hand. “Come on. Everyone will be racing to the
dining hall any minute now.  I want to beat the rush.”

Several
people were already seated in anticipation of the dinner to come, but the vast
majority of the large round tables were still empty.  Pretty and elegantly
draped in white, each table had an all white floral arrangement, white linen
napkins and white china. The effect could have been stark and bare, but a touch
of gold trim on the silverware and stemware as well as the sprinkling of green
foliage among the pale blossoms gave depth and life to each table. The pure
white also had a sobering effect. It brought home the charity they were all
there for.  Serena was impressed. Sebastian’s mother really did know what she
was doing.

“We’ll
be seated with my mother.  I hope you don’t mind.”  He pulled a chair out for
her.

“I’m
here to do as you wish. I don’t think sitting through dinner with your mother
will be all that bad.”  She looked down toward one end of the room then the
other.  A couple sat quietly at one table while a foursome of elderly gentlemen
sat at another.

Serena
sat down and noted that people were already streaming in behind them. Sebastian
barely had time to sit down for two minutes before he was called to make his
speech.

“Wish
me luck,” he said with a wink. “This crowd can be ruthless.”

A
buzz of quiet conversation filled the room.  The scent of expensive perfume
mingled with the gentle fragrance of the flowers on the table. When Sebastian
took the microphone, all eyes turned to him.  There was no need for him to ask
for their attention; he already had it.

“I’m
honored to stand before you tonight,” he said, his voice strong and commanding.
“Many of my family’s closest friends are here and I can’t begin to express my
gratitude. My mother, Marika Sorensen, has a long standing relationship with
the Children’s Hospital and the money raised tonight will help rejuvenate a
wing of the hospital, as well as buy much needed and very expensive medical
equipment.

“As
a childless man, many people assume I have no idea what it is like to have a
sick child.  True, I can’t claim to have ever seen my own child suffer from the
treatments for cancer or from the effects of any one of the many chronic
children’s diseases.”

He
looked down at the floor a moment and Serena could have sworn she’d heard him
choke on the last few words. When he brought his gaze back to the crowd, his
eyes were red and filled with emotion.

Her
own eyes lined with tears.  Serena couldn’t imagine a man as haughty as he
sometimes showed himself to be, could be so touching; so moving.  With a hand
that seemed to shake with emotion, he pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket
pocket. The remainder of his speech, Serena assumed.  But when he turned the
paper to the audience, Serena realized it wasn’t his speech at all.

“This
is Paloma Lorre.”  Holding up the picture of a delightful little dark haired
girl, he scanned the audience to ensure everyone got a good look. “When she was
eight years old, she started to complain about a strange numbing sensation in
her legs.  Not long after her legs refused to function and she was unable to
walk, unable to even stand.  She was brought to the Children’s and soon after
that every part of her body began to shut down. Paralysis took over her entire
body. The only thing Paloma could move were her eyeballs.  The prognosis;
Guillaume Barre Syndrome.

“For
two and half long months, Paloma found herself in isolation. Her condition had
become so critical, only her parents were permitted to see her.  Doctors feared
she’d never walk again.” He let the silence linger a long moment as everyone
took in the disturbing information.

“I
wonder if any of you here tonight can imagine; over a year shut up in a
hospital.  Your body has shut down and you can’t remember the last time you had
a breath of fresh air, the last time you played a game, the last time you had
fun with friends.

“Paloma
never let that get her down.  Her determination and will got her through
treatments and physiotherapy.  Believe it or not, when Paloma finally left the
hospital, it was on her own two feet.  That is the power of research.  That is
the power of our money.  That is the good that comes out of the small effort we
ask of you tonight.

“The
smile you see here, it’s not just for the camera.  It’s always there.  To hear
this child talk and laugh, you’d never believe she’d ever suffered such pain. 
Yet, despite all the hardships she had to endure in her short life, she faced
her days in the hospital with an optimistic view that is confounding.

“I
know for a fact that most, if not all of you would whine, cry, complain and
scream out your discontent if you’d ever had to endure even a fraction of what
she’s been through. You could perhaps say that she’s not yet learned to be
cynical, to be jaded, to be defeatist, to be pessimistic.  I say she has the
joy and determination to live, regardless what obstacles are thrown her way.

“For
Paloma and all the other little valiant boys and girls who have had such
obstacles put in their path, I ask you, men and women who’ve been graced with a
charmed life, an easy life, to open your checkbooks and to be generous as you
fill it in.  As I look out at all of you, I know that many of you have built your
own fortunes with your own blood, sweat and determination.

“Mr.
Goldwater who successfully and solely built a real estate empire.  Mr. and Mrs.
Bingham who started their own line of high end children’s clothes and are now
in every elegant shop in America. Ms. Portman who borrowed a thousand dollars
from a friend and turned it into a multi-million dollar beauty conglomerate.

“But
I also know that many of you, Peter Bottom, Belinda Kyle, Garrett Thomas and
Richard Lynch, to name but a few, have had your fortunes passed onto you by
your hardworking parents.  You’ve lived the coddled lives of silver spoon fed
children.  You’ve never known hardship and barely know the meaning of the word
struggle.  If ever there was a time for you to step out and speak up for something
worthwhile, to make a difference in the world, this is it.

“Our
goal tonight is to raise twenty-five million dollars, a number I know is easily
attainable.  And rest assured; every last penny of it will go towards buying
much needed equipment and repairing that broken down wing the hospital, no, the
children so desperately need.”

He
put the picture away and stepped down.  After a long, almost guilt-ridden
silence, the elite crowd softly applauded him.

As
he came towards her, Serena became vaguely aware of the people who’d joined her
table.  While she assumed they were Sebastian’s family, she had no desire to
make eye contact with them.  Instead she looked at Sebastian as he came to the
table and pulled out the chair besides her. She knew her open admiration was
clear in her eyes, and she made no attempt to hide it. He was proving to be a
surprise at every turn and she had to admit she enjoyed that.

“You
don’t mince words, do you?” she quietly said as he sat down. 

Seated
on the other side of him, his mother’s glare was cold and hostile. Apparently
she didn’t share Serena’s assessment of his speech, but she said nothing.

“This
crowd needs to be shaken up sometimes. They get too comfortable, too
complacent. They forget… or in many cases have never known what it’s like to
struggle, to hurt.”

“I’m
sure your speech will have the desired effect and you’ll raise even more money
than you’ve asked for.”

He
took the glass of white wine set before him and held it up to her.  “Here’s
hoping.”

“Your
story about this little Paloma girl was very touching.  How do you know her?” 
She bit down on the internal gnawing sensation that suggested he’d made it all
up.

“She’s
the daughter of a colleague.  He’d talked about her so much that he finally
brought her into work to introduce her to us. She came to visit a few times
after that; a beautiful little girl who instantly stole my heart, I must say.”

Serena
noticed an older, straight-back white haired man sitting beside Marika.  He
looked intently at Sebastian, a wistful smile barely warming the crease at his
brow. He, too, seemed to disapprove of Sebastian’s actions.

“Is
that your father?” she asked, though she felt certain it was.  They’d not been
introduced and she couldn’t help but wonder if it was intentional or just a slip.

Sebastian
grinned and took a hold of her hand.  He looked past his mother. “Father, I’ve
neglected to introduce you to my date. Serena Singleton, this is Kaiser
Sorensen.”

Nodding,
Serena smiled when she saw his warm, soulful eyes and sincere grin.  “It’s a
pleasure to meet you.”

While
his eyes remained warm, he said nothing and Serena sensed Marika was the
reason.  Her back was glued to the chair as she stared straight ahead, her lips
pursed in disapproval.  After the brief introduction, she glared at her husband
and clucked her tongue.

Kaiser
was considerably older than Marika.  That much was clear.  And while he was a
handsome man in his own right, Serena got the impression his love for Marika
was based solely on her looks, on the impression she made on those around her. 
She was a beautiful woman and she surely went to great lengths to maintain that
beauty.  She was a trophy, but a slowly tarnishing one; one that constantly
needed to be shined; one that constantly needed attention.  Her resentment of that
fact darkened her pretty pale eyes and probably would have creased her brow,
had they had the liberty to do so.

Sebastian
went on to introduce her to the other guests at the table.  Willow was
decidedly reserved when Sebastian introduced her as his date.

“Charmed,”
Mrs. Brookes said at the introduction, though her facial expression was
anything but charmed.  Clearly, she echoed her daughter’s sentiment.

Seated
immediately to Serena’s left was Michael who leaned his knee into hers while
Mr. and Mrs. Faris, introduced as close and dear friends of the family, rounded
out the rest of the table.

Dinner
was served amidst financial conversation that Serena found tedious and old. 
Michael did try to strike up a conversation that veered away from finances, but
it always come back to the table.  It seemed every topic came back to money. 
It sometimes began with art, but turned to the value of a Picasso.  It
sometimes began with a family vacation, but ultimately turned into an
evaluation of this hotel, that cruise line or that exclusive boutique.

No
matter how or where the conversation began, someone found a way to bring it
back to money. How to make more.  How to spend more.  How to have more. Some
didn’t even bother disguising the discussion beneath anything else.  They just
came straight out and talked dollars and cents.  While some lightly discussed
wasting hundreds of thousands on some convoluted venture, others took to heart
the thousands of dollars they’d put down on their dress, or their car, or their
home.

“Are
you enjoying your meal?” Sebastian said when he was finally able to tear away
from his mother and pay some attention to Serena.  He draped his arm on the
back of her chair and leaned in close.

“Absolutely.”
She’d tried to ignore the sprinkling of words she’d picked up between him and
his mother, but some of the words she’d overheard hurt her more than she cared
to admit.  Far from talking about money, Marika seemed obsessed with
Sebastian’s future, namely his future with her.  On more than one occasion she
was referred to as, ‘that girl,’ and she thought she’d heard the term
‘commoner’ used to describe her.

Soothing
those hurt feelings, however, was Sebastian’s touch.  The heat of his fingers
as they drew a line across her bare shoulder was nothing compared to the heat
of his gaze.  For a brief instance, the room around them disappeared and she
was alone with him.  The heat became suffocating as his gaze intensified.

A
waiter came around them and offered more wine, breaking the private and all too
brief interlude.

“My
mother insists on having the best chefs in her kitchen,” he said after clearing
his throat.

“It’s
understandable.  With the crowd here, you don’t want to just serve them
something average and mundane.”

“Taking
my mother’s defense. How admirable.”  He grinned.

“Is
it just me, or do I sense a bit of tension between you and your mother?”

“If
you look closely, you’ll probably see there’s a lot of tension between my
mother and just about everyone in this room.”

“That’s
a little harsh.”