The Ardoon King Page 51
Chapter 49: Charity Event
“Fel!” Ben yelled as he exited the convenience store. The rude clerk has put him in a foul mood and this wasn’t helping. “Lay off the horn already! God!”
When he got to his vehicle, Ben leaned into the driver’s side window, which was down. “What?” he barked.
“We’re going to be late.”
“I don’t think the lake is going anywhere,” Ben replied.
“The lake?” asked Lilian. “Darling, that’s next weekend.”
Ben stared at the woman. She was wearing her “little black dress” and high heels, a designer purse in her lap. Her golden hair was made up elaborately atop her head.
“Next weekend,” he said, confused.
Lilian looked at the man with concern. “Ben, do you really think we would go to the lake dressed as we are?”
Ben stepped back and looked down at himself. He was wearing a black silk suit. His golden cufflinks were dazzling in the sun. “No?”
“Today’s the charity event. At the museum.”
“I know that,” said Ben. And suddenly, he did. He opened the SUV’s door and hoisted himself inside. “I was just asking the clerk whether he had any cigars. I left mine at the house.”
“Did he?”
“Nothing I’d smoke,” said Ben, starting the engine. “Everything he’s got is about ninety-percent paper and ten-percent ground tobacco, and all of that coated in sugar.”
Lilian laughed. “Serves you right. I’ll text Desmond.”
“The French guy?”
“Yes. He’s going to be at the event. I bet he hasn’t left yet. You two like the same thing, right?”
Ben pulled onto the road. “Yeah, everything he’s got is good. He’s got a humidor the size of the Vatican. A Maduro would be best, though.”
“Got it,” she said, punching at her smartphone screen. “Have you decided on our donation?”
The man grunted. “I don’t know. It’s not a real charity. We’re not talking about starving children. It’s for a music thing, right?”
The woman looked astonished. “It is a real charity, Ben. It provides musical instruments and classes to impoverished children who’d otherwise waste their time playing games on their phones, or swapping idiotic photos on their phones, or doing almost anything else on their phones.”
“You mean like that gadget in your hand right now?”
Lilian sighed. “This is for business. Anyway, how much?”
“I don’t know…half a million?”
“Ben!”
“What?”
“That’s hardly charitable! You know this is important to me.” She tilted her head to one side. “I was thinking five.”
“Million? What are we buying these kids? Stradivariuses?”
Lilian lowered her phone. “Des says he’s ‘got you covered.’ Yes, five million. Don’t be stingy. We’ve got more than that in our rainy-day account.”
“It’s for a rainy day, Lilian.”
“The world’s not going to end tomorrow, dear.”
Ben grunted again, and thought about that. Wasn’t it?
“Okay,” he said. “But in return you’ll agree not to give me any grief about the Italy trip.”
Lilian groaned. “You’ll spend two million dollars on an old book yet hesitate to give impoverished children money for music?”
“Music is a luxury, Lilian, not a necessity.”
“I could say the same about old books.”
Ben nodded. “Yes, and you have. Do we have a deal?”
Lilian shook her head, putting her phone back into her purse. “Very well.”