The dinner party took on a whole new life as the guests ate, laughed, and recounted the surprise proposal that had occurred just moments before. They all agreed it was quite the proposal, uniquely special because they were there.
Michael and Kat worked their way around the room. They went from person to person, smiling and shaking hands. Most of the guests already knew Kat, but Michael was the star of the night. A mysterious young man that none of them recognized.
"Katiella you look remarkable." Victoria Callahan announced as she looked Kat up and down through her purple glasses. Victoria was the oldest guest of the night and easily the wealthiest. Her back had a permanent hunch that she covered with an oversized and wrong time era fox fur coat. Her burgundy lipstick cracked with every wrinkle of her old lips.
"Thank you, Ms. Callahan," Kat gave a small curtsy. "You look amazing as well," She responded, reaching out to touch the fur, only to be met by Ms. Callahan's hand swatting hers away with reflexes too fast for her age.
"Of course I do darling, but tonight's about you." She forced a smile before turning to Michael, "Who is this theatrical young man that's fancied you?" Ms. Callahan reached out her hand towards Michael. Her hand hung for a moment while Michael pondered whether he should shake it or kiss it. He decided correctly on the latter, pulling the hand to his lips. Her wrinkled wrist smelled uncomfortably of vanilla.
"My name is Michael Robinson," Michael smiled.
"You remind me of my second husband." She examined Michael. "He had soft lips as well." She rubbed the back of her hand as Michael shifted uncomfortably.
"So, what's your occupation?"
"I'm an elementary gym teach—"
"He's my elementary understudy." The white-haired man stepped between Michael and Katiella. He grabbed Ms. Callahan's hand and pecked it multiple times.
"Oh! Victor Bissett, you white-haired devil!" Ms. Callahan pulled her hand back and did something with her eye that appeared to be a flirtatious wink at Kat's father.
"Since he has publicly proclaimed my daughter as his future wife, I plan to start training him tomorrow. He's going to be one of the greatest businessmen this world has ever seen."
Ms. Callahan lowered her glasses and picked apart Michael's entire body a little more closely, "I..I don't see it. He looks—" she paused to find the right word, "Ordinary."
Victor let out an explosive laugh. "Ordinary?" He let out a few chuckles, showing his complete disagreement with the word in its description of Michael. "Ordinary!" He laughed again, "Michael's parents were two of the most extraordinary minds I ever met in my entire life. When I saw who Michael's parents were, I knew he was the one for my daughter." He put a hand on Michael's shoulder. "This young man has that smart gene." He pulled Kat into his side. "Unfortunately, Kat only got half the smart gene," he signaled to his wife that was directing the caterers back towards the kitchen to fetch more wine.
Victor Bissett had met his wife while on a business trip to France. She was standing out in front of his hotel. When he had asked her what she was doing, she responded, "Looking for a businessman." When asked about their meeting, Victor claimed he was simply in the right place at the right time.
"Rarely people surprise me," Mr. Callahan continued belittling Michael as if he was not right in front of her. "For your own sake, Victor, I hope I'm wrong about him." She looked Michael in the eye, "But I'm rarely wrong about these things. Please send me an invitation. I'm free for the third weekend of August."
"Well, perfect, because that's the date," Victor exclaimed very much to the surprise of Michael and Kat. Ms. Callahan gave a shrug signaling their conversation was over. She turned and walked away to find another group of individuals to berate.
"That's two months away," Kat turned to her father, who kept a fake grin on his face waving at guests as they walked by with small glass trays topped with expensive cheese.
"We'll be fine,"
"This dinner party took four months of planning!" Kat tried to keep up appearances, but the distress was seeping through her overly powdered face.
"Kat, we'll figure it out." Michael tried to comfort Kat, who shrugged his arm from her shoulder, "If anyone can pull this off, it's you."
"That's my almost boy!" Victor tapped Michael's shoulder, "By the way, great speech tonight. Couldn't have written it better myself." He gave Michael an exaggerated wink. "Maybe would've changed a few lines, or said them the way they were written, but other than that phenomenal job—Now Kat quit pouting, and get back to mingling. This is your night."
Victor turned and hugged a guest. "Wonderful night, wasn't it?"
Kat forced a smile back to her face and wrapped her arm around Michael. Who do we charm next?
______________
Stuart Nicholson stared at the mansion across the street. He sat in his tiny blue electric rental that reeked of cigarettes of past renters. He had not been invited to the party but worked for someone more powerful than the entire entourage of guests combined. He squinted his eyes straining to make out what was happening inside. He regretted not bringing the binoculars he felt were too cliche' for the job. The man he had been watching visited the mansion daily. There were no clues to make Stuart guess that tonight may include a unique gathering of the area's wealthiest business personnel.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed his dispatch. They always complained when he called this late, but this would be the first night in three months something promising had occurred.
"Jack?"
"Stuart, if it can wait 'til the morning, let it wait 'til—"
"This time it's real, remember my theory about the shootings?"
"You're following a hitman. Everything's about shootings." The voice on the other line was groggy. Stuart had made a bad habit of calling Jack early in the morning, every time so far had been a false lead, but this time he felt confident.
"No, I mean, do you remember my theory about him subleasing hits—about him not being a hitman at all, but a man at the top?" Stuart was talking fast.
"Yes, I recall. I also recall you telling me the man was a gym teacher."
"He is a gym teacher, but no. Tonight they're all here."
"Who's where?"
"At the Bissett's, every guest that's here is a name you'd recognize." Stuart paused, waiting for a response but was met with silence. "Even Victoria Callahan," Stuart stopped to let the weight of the name to sink in.
"Stuart," Jack's voice was irritated, "You think eighty-year-old Victoria Callahan is running around in fur coats killing people?" Jack paused.
"No, but maybe—"
"Do any of those guests seem like the type of people who would put their freedom on the line to make a few extra dollars from a man that works as a gym teacher?"
"Probably not."
"The correct answer is absolutely not."
"But—"
Jack hung up.
Stuart slid the phone back into his pocket and watched as the guests began to trickle out the front door. He watched as the cars circled to the front of the courtyard. Each driver stepped from their vehicle and opened the door for the guests that were very much capable themselves.
Then Stuart saw the man he'd been watching step to the front porch with his girlfriend under his arm. The man who called himself Michael Robinson in this second life he'd created for himself. His right arm was wrapped around Kat and he used his left to wave at the guests as they climbed in their cars. If these guests weren't a part of his operation, how had he won their affection? If he was merely a gym teacher, why were they waving back as if he had been the main event of the gathering?
Stuart sat in his car as the last of the guests pulled away. He watched as Michael hugged Kat goodnight and turned to shake her father's hand. It felt as awkward as a high school prom send-off. Kat and her father went back into the house as Michael made his way down the driveway. His old rusty-piece of junk car came squeaking up the hill. The driver handed Michael the keys and did a short bow. Stuart waited until Michael's car passed his own parking spot before he started his engine.
Stuart couldn't fathom how such an extraordinary man could be so ordinary in his day to day life. After three months of watching, this was the first night that Stuart had witnessed anything even remotely suspicious from him. Then again, what did he expect? If Michael was the man they claimed him to be, it wouldn't be flaunted. He would want himself to seem as ordinary as possible.
Michael made no stops on the way back to his apartment. Stuart waited for Michael to enter his complex's elevator before logging his daily report. He wrote an in-depth review of the strange dinner party and his suspicions that Michael may be collaborating with the wealthy guests in attendance.
Stuart ended his report with a single short question: Who is Michael Robinson?