Her Younger Millionaire

“What the hell do you think you are doing here?” O’Brien demanded. “I never thought you would be so stupid as to crash a function like this, drunk or not!”

“I just really need to tell ya something,” Bruce said, lightly slurring. “While I still got the courage.”

“Dutch courage is no courage,” O’Brien snorted, wondering why he was even giving Bruce the time of day and not just marching him out. But then he knew that if he didn’t hear Bruce out then he was likely to try something even more outrageous until he got his point across.

“Don’t be like that, O’Brien, man…” Bruce said with a wounded expression.

“Never mind that,” O’Brien snapped. “Tell me why you came here tonight so you can get out and leave me to go back to the… party.” He could not help but give a little shudder as he really didn’t want to be there. This disturbance, although it was unwelcome, was still a relief from that stuffy atmosphere.

“That bad, eh?” Bruce commiserated. “Hey, maybe I can liven things up for you!” He made to leave, so O’Brien quickly reached out and caught his arm.

“Don’t be an imbecile,” O’Brien spat. “Just tell me why you came here before I loose what little patience I have left and have you thrown out anyway.”

“Ah, now that’s the O’Brien I know and love,” Bruce said with a dopey smile. “I just wanted to tell you that I sold all the Feinberg water shares because they were gunning for your spot.”

O’Brien stared at Bruce, stunned into silence. Bruce’s family had started Feinberg water even though they were nothing but minority shareholders now. The Russians had moved in and taken over.

“I just… wanted to tell you, so you know it’s the real deal with me and Dylan,” Bruce said, deflating. He sighed. “This wasn’t a good idea, was it?”

O’Brien looked down at him haughtily. “I will not answer right now,” he said. “I will tell you exactly what I think of that sentiment when you are sober. I don’t want to take the chance that you might forget what I have to say because of your inebriation and try to do something stupid like this again.” He stepped forward, noting that Bruce did not step back, although he did look a little confused. “Now I want you to go home and sleep this stupidity off.”

He took Bruce ‘s arm again and escorted him to the front of the building, using his free hand to grab his cell phone to call Allred to the front with the car. As they saw him approach, one of the security ran towards him, intent on removing Bruce from O’Brien’s custody.

“Mr. O’Brien! Let me deal with him for you.”

“No,” O’Brien said shortly, stopping the man as he reached out to apprehend the swaying Bruce. “I’m having him sent home. But what I do want is for you to find out how this drunken idiot managed to evade security and get to the function room. And I expect a full report of that failure on my desk first thing in the morning. Understood?”

The security man paled and nodded. “Yes, Mr. O’Brien.” He backed off and let O’Brien escort Bruce to the front of the building.

Bruce seemed kind of shell shocked and unable to parse exactly what was going on, so seeing as Bruce was in no state to make a proper decision, O’Brien made one for him.

“Allred, I would like you to take Mr. Bruce to the Leaky Cauldron shop.”

“Very good sir,” Allred said as he helped his employer get the drunken man into the back of the limousine.

“Don’t throw up in my car, mutt,” he muttered as he made sure that Bruce was securely seated.

“Hey O’Brien,” Bruce slurred as O’Brien made to pull away, “I meant what I said.”

“So did I, Bruce,” O’Brien said firmly. “If you can remember what you did and said tonight after you sober up, come to me and I will tell you exactly what I think.” He scowled, annoyed as usual. Let Bruce make of that what he would, but he was fairly certain Bruce would come, no matter what he thought O’Brien might do or say. At least he would if he remembered.

Bruce quailed a little bit, his alcohol soaked brain perhaps catching up with the fact that he had just done something even more monumentally stupid than usual, but he didn’t have time to say anything else as O’Brien pulled away and shut the door.

O’Brien watched as the car pulled away then pulled his phone out again. He pressed a speed dial and waited for the call to be answered by a sleepy sounding Dylan.

“The mutt is in my limousine on his way to you,” O’Brien rapped down the phone, not giving Dylan time to answer. “He is completely drunk and thought it would be a good idea to gatecrash the O’Brien Corporation End of Year function. I don’t care why he did it or if someone dared him to do it, but he had better not have been sick in my car.” He hung up before Dylan could say a word and turned to walk back into the building, giving his security the evil eye as he went.

He returned to the function room to the expected stares and whispering, but he put his best poker face on and carried on. One man finally dared to sidle up to him.

“Mr. O’Brien, who was that drop out just now and how do you know him?”

O’Brien momentarily considered telling the man, Benedikt something or other – not that it really mattered to him at this moment, to mind his own business. To be honest, anyone who was here and did business with O’Brien Corporation should have known full well who Bruce was as, despite all the odds, Bruce was one of the top speculators in the world, following only Dylan and himself. But then if he told this one person who Bruce was – and the couple of others who were shamelessly listening in – then the news would spread around the room and hopefully he would be left alone.

“He was someone I attended school with,” O’Brien explained. “His little group of friends were always trying to get me to join in with them and I suppose one of them dared him to come here for some kind of drunken laugh. It’s the kind of thing I would expect from them.”

“Ah, I suppose they only want to know you because you are a wealthy young man,” ‘Benedikt’ pontificated.

“Actually, they don’t,” O’Brien mused. “They have always been very genuine but, unfortunately, annoying to me.” With that, he deliberately moved away and back to look out of the window. Now that the gossip was sweeping the room, everyone was happy to leave him alone. At least for now.

He looked out of the window, noting that it was beginning to snow. It was probably just as well that he had sent Bruce over to the Shop in one of his cars. It was bitterly cold outside and with the state that Bruce was in, it wasn’t beyond the realms of imagination that he could have passed out and frozen to death out there. If that were to happen it would be the worst thing imaginable. Dylan would probably give up gaming in his grief and so he would never take the title from him.

But if he were truly honest, he was completely blind-sided by Bruce’s drunken confession. It really was most likely to be some kind of stupid dare fueled by alcohol and bravado and if that were the case he would think of a way to make Bruce pay later on. But if it were the truth, he had a lot of thinking to do. At least he would once this bore-fest was over with anyway.