Chapter 32
Gatsby
I tooka drag from my cigarette, flicked the ash into the ashtray on my desk, then put it between my lips again as I typed on my keyboard.
Max Stanton
I pushed Enter, sending my query to the search engine. The stupid fuck’s face popped right up, along with a photo of him leading Daisy out of a building sometime at night. My jealousy flared to life. Smoking with my left hand, I scrolled the web page with my right, looking for something incriminating.
Everything I could find was glowing. The poster boy billionaire. Rich daddy, inherited every penny of his wealth, never truly having to work a day in his life. He went to the best schools in the country and went right to work as soon as he was handed the degree I doubt he actually earned.
I sighed and put out the cigarette, smashing it against the green glass. I sat up straight and went to work on a deeper dive. Somewhere, deep in the more unsavory parts ofthe World Wide Web, someone knew something about this asshole fucking my Daisy.
I scrubbed through web page after web page. There were rumors of his more abusive nature. There’d been a girlfriend when he was still in college who’d passed away under unclear circumstances, Andie Tournay. I’d found her obituary, but even the shady website I found it on only had the redacted version. Her cause of death had been hidden, as well as a description of the body when it was autopsied. Paired with the rumors and what I’d seen myself in that nightclub, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine he’d had something to do with her death.
As I searched, I found an interesting article from his college gossip magazine. He’d been a member of an unofficial group called the Champagne Circle. It was a group of rich boys, just like him. They’d been featured in the magazine for one of their ‘infamous’ parties. It was implied that these men were known for their one-night stands and inability to have second dates. The author of this particular article was clearly one of their past abandoned lovers.
While the article itself was boring and uneventful, it provided me a list of names to look into, and while Max’s name provided little information, the other members of the Champagne Circle weren’t as lucky.
Dean Dion lost his license after multiple DUI’s, one of them resulted in an accident that killed two young women. Drunk and disorderly was his MO, and even after losing his privilege to drive himself, he still did. I found a list of payoffs he’d made to various cops, lawyers, and other members of law enforcement.
Nathan Krendler was a serial cheater. He was already on his second marriage and he was barely 23. But the cheating didn’t stop in the bedroom. I found pages and pages of him bid rigging. And lastly, Yong Ji Hoon, known in college fortelling his lovers the morning after to “Get out of my room before the maid comes and thinks you’re trash”, had gotten in trouble recently for disposing medical waste improperly, creating a fuckton of pollution and ruining the area.
All these crimes had been covered up and scrubbed from public media with their money.
After hours and hours of printing out this information and looking it over, I was exhausted. It was a lot to go through. A knock on the door drew me from my investigations. Dewayne came in, dressed in a tuxedo. I noticed that he’d also gotten his hair freshly braided.
“Sir, the party has started, if you’d like to attend. Our guest of honor has arrived and is in the dining room.”
I blinked, glancing at my watch. I’d lost track of time. “Yes, I should go dress. Go check on Jules, please. That color looks good on you,” I complimented him. The army green jacket, paired with the black pants paired well with his rich umber skin-tone.
“Thanks, Mr. Gatsby. I thought it was time for some upgrades to my closet.” He pat me on my back and sent me on my way.
As I changed from my work suit into a tuxedo, I considered the Champagne Circle. They used their money to clean up their messes, and for that, I wanted to be angry. However, the moment I came into my wealth, I did the same. Could my spending be justified?
I had to shove the thoughts away for now. There would be time for these questions on morality. Right now, I wanted to see if any of these bastards had finally decided to show their faces at my party. I went downstairs, dressed to the nines, and began interacting with my guests, as if I were one of them. I picked up a drink and danced through the crowd, looking for members of the Champagne Circle.
While the only formal invitation ever sent was to Neal, Ihad promoters that would go around mentioning my weekend events. I was strategic in where I sent them, and the hotel Max frequented was one of them. Surely, curiosity would get the best of him...
I spotted Yong, and excitement exploded in my gut. I had to contain myself not to hurry over. Instead, I watched from a distance, and was elated to see Nathan Krendler and Dean Dion join him at a table against the far wall. Refilling my drink, I made my way over.
“Gentlemen.” I tipped my drink at them and started to pass by, but they stopped me.
“Hey, do I know you?” Nathan called out. I paused and cocked my head. He pointed to the empty seat. “Come sit. What did you say your name was? We’re trying to find him.”
“I didn’t.” I sat down. “Who are you looking for?”
“Gatsby.” Yong said. “You know, the guy putting on these parties? No one’s seen him.”
“Well, Max claimed he did, but you know how he is.” Dean snickered.
“Max, as in Max Stanton?”
“Yeah, he’s our buddy, but he’s also a pathological liar.” Yong laughed. “He could just have wanted bragging rights to having met the guy first.”
“Interesting fellow, I hear.” I picked up my drink and motioned at the party around us. “No clear reason to throw these parties every weekend.”
“I had an uncle who had a place in the Hamptons who did the same every summer.” Dean shrugged. “Said the parties helped fight the loneliness. He killed himself a few years back.”
