Chapter 4
Item one on the retreat’s jam-packed itinerary was a dinner and cocktail reception hosted by the CEO. Everyone—entourages and all—came down to the restaurant patio in tropical casual. Khaki shorts, Hawaiian shirts, colorful dresses for the ladies. Quinn was grateful that suits or tuxes weren’t required for this. Outdoors, it was just too hot and humid.
For the indoor events, he was glad he’d brought more than just shorts. The hotel’s air-conditioning was damn near arctic. He’d adjusted it in his suite so it wasn’t quite so cold, but everywhere else? He almost had to bundle up to get down to the lobby, just to strip most of it off before going outside.
The evening was warm, but not as oppressively hot as earlier. With a nice breeze and a cold beer in his hand, Quinn was quite comfortable.
He mingled a little, saying hello to people he could stand, deftly avoiding those who’d make him want to rip off his own ears, and introducing himself to anyone he hadn’t met before. There really was quite a mix here. People hailed from all over the United States and represented every industry from oil to pharmaceuticals to high tech. Some were hardcore right wing. Others were somewhat liberal. The only common threads he could see were that everyone was powerful and had a net worth of ten figures or better. Quinn was worth around four billion—probably closer to three these days thanks to his bad streak—and it was strange to realize that at tomorrow’s meeting, he would quite possibly be the poorest man in the room.
His gaze landed on Elena Simmons, who was having a very flirty conversation with petroleum magnate Dan Woolman. They seemed to have tuned out everyone around them just as they seemed oblivious to the gold ring on his left hand, not to mention her ex-husband scowling nearby. Or maybe they weren’t oblivious; Quinn had run in these circles long enough to know monogamy only existed on paper and adultery was a hobby.
He supposed everyone had to get their kicks somehow. Cheating had never been his MO, but it seemed to keep people from getting bored in between running empires, scaling literal mountains, and jet-setting all over the world. To each their own.
“Hey, Quinn?” Kyle materialized beside him again, glaring at his smartphone. “Ain’t they supposed to have Wi-Fi here?”
Quinn took out his phone. “Why? Isn’t it working?”
“There was a network for a little while, but then it started getting slow.” Kyle huffed. “Now it won’t even connect.”
Quinn opened his connection settings. He’d been on the Wi-Fi earlier too without issue, but sure enough, there was nothing. No networks were even listed.
“Can you two connect?” Kit Mason joined them, holding up her phone and giving it a disgusted look. “I haven’t been able to find a network in over an hour neither have any of my assistants.”
“Nope. I’ve got nothing.” Quinn shook his head as he pocketed his phone. “Must be down.”
Kit made a face. “I’m going to talk to management. This is unacceptable.”
With that, she stalked off. Quinn watched her go, then rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. So the internet was down? Chill the fuck out, lady.
Though if they ran out of booze or something, Quinn would be the one having words with management. Except it was a little unnerving, being disconnected from the mainland when they were this far out at sea. Irrational, maybe, since they were on an island and not a boat, but he didn’t like the feeling of being unable to reach anyone beyond the island’s shores.
How did people do vacations before cell phones and internet?
Someone tapped a spoon against a glass, and conversation died away. Heads turned toward a freckle-faced white man standing beside the bar with a microphone.
“Good evening, everyone!” He smiled brightly. “I just wanted to take a moment to introduce myself and welcome you to our lovely Faraway Resort. Some of you have already met me, but for those who haven’t, I’m Kevin Riley, and I’d like to thank you all for coming to the RightPriceTek investors’ retreat.” He grimaced. “Unfortunately, our CEO had some last minute business to address, and won’t be able to make tonight’s reception. However”—he held up a finger—“he assures me he will be there for tomorrow’s first investor meeting. And we’d also like to apologize that, as I’m sure you’ve all discovered, we’re having some problems with internet connectivity. We’re doing everything we can to restore it, but the problem seems to be with the satellites, not anything here on the island.” He laughed. “And it wouldn’t be an issue at all if RightPriceTek were in the satellite industry, but unfortunately that is out of our wheelhouse.” He showed his palms. “We can’t be everywhere, I guess.”
Despite the collective annoyance at being unable to connect, a ripple of laughter went through the group.
“In the meantime,” Kevin continued, “please, enjoy tonight’s complimentary meal and drinks, as well as the rest of the hotel’s incredible amenities. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to speak with our 24/7 concierge, and if you haven’t been down to the spa, I highly recommend it, especially if you like Shiatsu massage.”
Well now that piqued Quinn’s interest. If he was going to spend the next week relaxing, it wouldn’t hurt to kick it off with a nice deep tissue massage. Okay, it would hurt at the time if she knew what she was doing, but he’d walk out feeling like a billion bucks. Sold.
The lack of internet annoyed him. On the other hand, though, maybe it was a good thing. He was sort of on vacation, after all. Those beaches, bars, and bikini-clad women would be a lot more fun if he wasn’t on his phone.
Especially if he could get a massage or three.