The estate was ready to welcome 50 distinguished guests of the night. It wasn’t heavily decorated, but tables were set up at the yard near the fountain, decorative lights were hung up, flowers arranged and an endless supply of champagne had been stocked for the night. The kitchen was preparing four-course fine dining meals for exactly 50 people who were arriving at the entrance.
They were all gathered at the parlor before they would have proceeded to the outdoor dining area. They greeted each other there, served with hors d’oeuvres and wine while waiting for everyone to arrive, and for the hosts to come down and greet them.
Amongst them was the Head of Facility, Mr. Robert M. Grant, who was also Head Scientist, the highest representation of the central government in Mofocity. Bob was the man who answered the red phone secured in his private office, a direct line from the central government that kept updated news from the outside world or what’s left of it. The phone doesn’t ring very often, in fact, it hasn’t rung for months now.
The Head of Departments of Cromwell’s corporation was also there, the human resources, finance, agricultural and logistics. Even though they all worked under Jacob Cromwell’s authority, they played a big part in controlling the day-to-day operation on the field. Gordon Barry had just arrived with his wife, he’s the owner of Mofocity’s electrical company and telecommunication company. Stanley Rocher, the owner of the only TV and radio station in town which controls the news that broadcasted to the people. Claire Barnes, the owner of Mofocity schools, and a handful of other important figures had been invited to the party along with their spouses. Except for Jack Ash, he was alone.
Colby Jones arrived alone too, wearing a suit that he only wears once a year or maybe twice. He was off duty but at a time like these, he’s never off duty. A gun was tucked neatly underneath his jacket and another one strapped around his ankle. Matt’s men with guns were nowhere in sight, they were told to stay off the party and guard the estate from blind spots.
Colby scanned the room, these are the people that will come up with the most important decisions Mofocity would ever have to make, he couldn’t find one face that may have the people’s best interest at heart. The people’s representative was not invited, the head of the people’s market was not there, and neither were the community leaders. He was there to consult everyone on the security side, but he was also there for another mission.
The parlor was looking like a decorated Christmas Tree with people wearing jewelry in their best outfits. The sound of rich people laughing at their own jokes, talking about how great they’ve made their lives, hinting here and there how much they own and showing off their success. Fake smiling all through the night, pretending they enjoyed each other’s company, was not something that could keep Colby amused. He had always been a part of that scene from the start. He tolerated them, he knew he needed to be part of it to survive.
He scanned the room to calculate his next move, people kept approaching him for unnecessary chit-chat that he didn’t really have time for. The Cromwells were nowhere to be found, so he was the next best thing for the guests to find out how things are going around town. He kept his conversations brief but informative enough to keep people off his back.
Just as he got closer to the door, he saw Matt, Jacob, his wife Iris, come out from the door at the back of the parlor, a door that goes into the library. “Good evening everyone! Welcome, honored guests!” Matt greeted the room and took everyone’s attention. Colby slipped through the door going out to the gallery.
Everyone cheered at the hosts. “Thank you for coming, we are most honored that you have made the time and effort to join us for the celebration of my son’s 31st birthday!” Guests were clapping. “Yes, yes, he’s fairly young, but we all know how he had managed to lead the Cromwell’s corporation with excellent foresight and a business intuition sharper than any of us had when we were at his age.” The clapping sound went louder. Matt went on with his speech praising how Jacob had done such a good job, a prodigy, and what a good son he was. A speech that Jordan can never relate to, yet he had to listen to it more often than his liking and raised his glass to agree on it.
He took another glass of wine, even though he hadn’t finished the one on his other hand. He didn’t think too much of it when he saw Colby slipped out the door, he wished he could’ve done the same, and skipped the whole welcoming speech altogether. “Here … here!” People cheered on.
Then, it was Jacob’s turn to do his always so elegant delivery of sequences of sentences. His silver-tongued brother was always so eloquent in addressing whatever it is he would like to address. Jacob could make the description on a cereal box sound fascinatingly interesting, with sophistication and poise, he wooed the room.
“Thank you, dad, Matthew Cromwell Junior, everybody gives a round of applause to my father whom I give my utmost respect to,” he paused for the applause. “A man whom I admire and learned everything I know from, I’m so fortunate to be able to call him ‘dad’, and to be a witness of how this one man had changed the course of history in turning a disaster of biblical proportion into a growing and self-sustained city that we live in, and love today,” he raised his glass for his father and everyone drank to that.
“Even though times are changing like everything in life, a change is necessary and inevitable, but I have confidence in all of us, there are no better people to surround ourselves with at times of change than all the people in this room.” Jacob went on to give everyone a hint of what they were about to discuss later on the evening without giving them anything to worry about.
He mentioned the absence of his mother and praise to his lovely wife. Iris was sitting crossed leg on an armchair nearby, wearing a revealing neckline vintage dress, sipping her wine, smiling throughout the speech. A lot of eyes were on her. Iris was 5 years older than Jacob, but at the prime of her beauty nonetheless. There’s nothing the men in the room wouldn’t do to get a taste of Iris’s wine. There’s a very sensual vibe about Iris that attracts men, older and younger that quickly mesmerize her sensuality without her even trying.
The speech became more of a monologue that was enthusiastically responded by an occasional laughter, and gasped after a while. That was the magic of Jacob Cromwell when he was in the spotlight. People just couldn’t get enough of him, and by the look on Iris’s face, neither could she. A waiter came forward and whispered in Iris’s ear, then she hinted to her husband to end the deliberation because dinner was ready to be served.