Chapter 8

“I think we can guarantee no repeats of that,” you say.

Charelle makes a face. “Well, realistically, it’s not like you’ve got time to run background checks in the next fifteen minutes, but I know you’re pretty connected. There’s a reason I came to you.”

Charelle checks her watch. “Not a great situation,” she says, “but if I’ve got to leave it with someone, might as well be you.”

Then she passes you a sheet of paper. “Standard biography of Ms. Falter,” she says. “Your introductory speaker can read from it. Traditionally we’d rewrite it a bit in the speaker’s own words, but that requires time and vetting, so…”


You wave Charelle off absently, already skimming the page. It gives a short, glossy history of Angela Falter’s life and accomplishments: birth to a family of modest means, high scholastic drive as a teenager, early entrance to Harvard, MBA, shrewd investments and management practices, a keen eye for infrastructure and for engineering breakthroughs that might prove important.

Then, in recent years, the events that really made her fortune and her reputation. Sound investments in alternative energy technologies. The study of paths forward for the developing world that would avoid the waste and pollution of the developed world. Regular participation at summits in Davos and Aspen. The meteoric ascent into the ranks of America’s richest women.

What it doesn’t say: anything about her personal life. Anything about marriage or relationships, anything about her single child, anything about her sense of style or aesthetics.


Respect the client’s wishes, first and foremost: that’s what Platt always says. If she wanted to depict herself as a champion skier or a burlesque artist, that would be entirely up to her.

Breathe


You work for Platinum Concierge Services. Platinum put together tonight’s event: a red carpet affair with a celebrity guest list, event audio specialists, and an arrangement of bioluminescent plants in the Cactus Garden. The chef for the event was a protégée of Ferran Adrià before El Bulli closed its doors; she and her team were flown in earlier this week from Chicago. Each table at this event went for $50,000.

Lee, the lead concierge on Ms. Falter’s account, has gone ahead to the Burj al Arab to make some arrangements for a business conference Ms. Falter is attending tomorrow. That leaves you in charge. Of an event in which one of the headliners has just died.

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