8. Delilah
Delilah
This wasn’t swimming with the sharks.
This was swimming with the alpha of the great white sharks—no, not just that. The alpha who had targeted me as the meat that he wanted for himself, that no other shark could even dare look at, let alone take a bite out of.
But the answer Adrian gave told me as much about myself as it did him.
Because in my work, the hotter a situation got, the more pressure that came with a situation, the more I thrived.
The harder the questions I asked.
And the deeper I dug.
Nothing was worse than a boring story with no layers to it. That required no skill at all, just the ability to write coherent sentences. AI could do it.
But what no machine and few other journalists could do was find a hot situation, dig deep to the core, and tell a story.
Adrian and I shared that same trait—the only difference lay in the outcome. He sought money, I sought the truth.
Realizing how similar we were made my interest in him rise uncomfortably high, to the point that I was beginning to genuinely doubt if I should even be in that room.
But like a shark who had caught a whiff of blood, I had caught a whiff of vulnerability in Adrian Vale, the man.
I could not, would not stop until I learned more.
Even if it meant getting bitten in the process.
“The cufflinks?” Adrian said, repeating the question in what was an obvious ploy to buy more time to think of a good answer. It was so common a tactic, even untrained people used it to their own benefit. “They’re just another example of why I’m the King of Diamonds.”
“They’re what people always refer to when they give an example of your nickname,” I pressed. “That tells me it’s something you highlight when you do interviews or videos. What is it about you, the man?”
“Are you my therapist or a journalist?”
I wanted to laugh, except the look on Adrian’s face was deadly serious. I could press, but I had to be careful not to let the recoil hit me in the face.
“You can answer what I asked however you wish.”
Adrian gave no reaction, looked out the window of his office, nodded, and then turned back to me.
“It was the first thing I ever bought when I had more money than I knew what to do with,” he said.
“Growing up, we were affluent, but we were never stupidly wealthy. I’d see people with jewelry that I knew even for our family would be a stupid purchase.
I wanted something reasonable, something that said wealth and power but not something that would be an unreasonable purchase.
The cufflinks seemed like a good compromise, given how often I wear button-down shirts. ”
“So it was the beginning of the King of Diamonds,” I observed. “The moment when you went from a man to a king.”
“Yes,” Adrian said, “the moment when I went from a man to a king.”
He thought he was stroking his own ego. I knew his repeating that line would make for a great quote…
… if not for the fact that said quote, obviously out of context, would make him look even more arrogant than he actually was.
No one would mistake Adrian for a humble, grateful guy, but no one, not even the stupidly wealthy, deserved to have their caricature exceed their reality.
Maybe that was a quote reserved for me and me alone.
After all, what Adrian had just said in totality was so much more than what he had probably said to anyone else. Maybe even his brothers.
“What kind of pressure led to that?” I asked. “What kind of pressure led to you being the man that you are? Maybe in your childhood?”
“You really are my therapist,” Adrian said with a laugh, though this laugh was much more relaxed, much more genuine than any that had preceded it. A long silence followed.
Too long, really. It told me a few different stories were running through Adrian’s mind, none of which he felt comfortable sharing. I’d have to elicit those stories carefully, the better for…
For what? For my own satisfaction? For knowing the King of Diamonds? For holding it over his head? Who really wants the control here? Him? You?
Both?
“We grew up with parents that pushed us hard,” he said.
“And I don’t think it needs to be said in great detail since it’s well known already, but the death of our youngest brother instilled in all of us a sense of seizing opportunity when you can.
When death is that close to your life, there’s no greater pressure. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“Do you, Delilah?”
Suddenly, Adrian was leaning forward at his desk. What had seemed like an intimate revelation was turning into something else. A power move.
“I don’t think you actually do, Delilah,” he said, moving around the desk.
He stood at the front of it, not so overtly as to be towering over me but very clearly indicating a greater position.
“You think you know that kind of pressure, working under deadlines and trying to satisfy your readership. But you don’t. ”
“Tell me about it,” I said. It was an instinctive response, meant to get as much information out of a source as possible. But in this context…
Adrian snorted.
“Spend time with me,” he said. “Be with me. Try to live like me. With an older brother for a CEO? With the youngest brother dead?”
And then he leaned forward in a way that was just a tad too close for professionalism.
“I don’t know that you could handle it,” Adrian said, followed by a wicked smirk. “I don’t think you could handle me.”
I gulped. My body was warming up in an uncomfortable manner. I did not want to admit to myself what my body’s sensations said; I definitely wasn’t going to admit it to Adrian. I had to choose my next words carefully.
“Try me.”
Forceful… but inviting. And yet, I didn’t feel bad about it. I was walking a thinner tightrope than ever before, and it was almost intoxicating. If this was what a gambler’s high felt like, small wonder so many in this city indulged in that vice.
“You?” Adrian said, his smirk still glued to his face.
“Invite the most beautiful journalist I know,” he said, his eyes locked onto mine, “as well as the most intelligent, fearless, and bold, to try to be with me? I will give you this, Delilah Reyes. Your wits and mind are almost as hot as your body. But you come into my world, you will see you have no idea what you are walking into.”
No, I would not. But I loved pressure and heat, did I not? I loved intense moments that offered more than what was on the surface, did I not?
“Maybe I don’t have the slightest clue what I’m walking into,” I said.
“Not that such ignorance has stopped me before. But let’s say I walk into something I don’t understand and can’t handle.
But then, I learn to handle it. I learn to take care of the situation.
Moreover, I learn to handle you. What then? ”
Adrian leaned forward. He was close to me. Very close. I could smell his breath and the mint that he had chewed recently.
“Then we’ll create something unbelievably unforgettable.”
Then he ran his hand through my hair. For the briefest of moments, my whole body melted; I wanted that hand to go to more places than just my hair. Let it run over me, into me, make me feel alive, make me feel…
Then I realized what was happening.
I stood up and took a step back. Adrian looked momentarily stunned, maybe even hurt. I drew in a breath. I was a journalist seeking information, and I had definitely gotten some.
But I had definitely also gotten way, way more than I bargained for.
Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he was charming.
Yes, I was getting deep into a game that could have all winners…
but it could also have all losers. I was risking everything for seeing where the thrill of the chase for the truth went, and if there was one thing more important than the truth, it was not losing my ethics in the process.
“I apologize,” I said, dusting myself off, even though I had nothing on me, “but I will need to go to transcribe what has been discussed.”
“You know there are programs for that now, right?”
“Yes, but it’s a chance for me to reflect as I transcribe,” I replied. “Adrian, I thank you for your time and your vulnerability.”
Adrian folded his arms.
“There’s absolutely no rush to leave, you know,” he said. “You are more than welcome to take a break. Grab some water, use the bathroom. Hell, take a shot of something if you’d like. I have liquor here, though I should warn you, it hasn’t been used that often.”
That would be delightful. Blame it on the alcohol. Get drunk, see where the night goes.
Right to his bed.
I literally shook my head, trying to get these crazed thoughts out of my head. Foolish! Stupid! Throwing away my career because of one good source… and for what ultimately amounted to what? A media relations war between two absurdly wealthy families who would be fine and rich no matter who won?
“As kind of you as that is, I will be going,” I said. “I will reach out to you for another interview when needed. In the meantime, I ask you to respect my time and allow me to work.”
“Of course,” Adrian said, bowing dramatically. “Of all the people, I most certainly know the value of working time. Don’t let me be the one to distract you from your job.”
Naturally, Adrian couldn’t let the last sentence be said without a knowing grin. I nodded to him, turned, and walked away as quickly as I could without looking like I was hurrying the hell out.
But as soon as I knew I was out of sight, I booked it out of the Ruby casino as rapidly as possible. I needed to get into a more professional environment to clear my head and remind me of why I was there.
And yet, even as I walked through the ding-ding-ding of the casino floor, even as I hurried through the silence of the parking lot, even as I turned on the car and put on my favorite tunes…
Thoughts of Adrian would not disappear. Thoughts of his presence, his touch, his words…
Adrian was right in one regard. I was entering a world I was not ready for. I might have been more prepared than most, but that didn’t mean I was ultimately ready.
I could only hope that, like every other time before, I would learn to adapt and comport myself as needed.