SCARLET ♠️
Noah was pleased.
I could feel it radiating off him in the car, the specific satisfied energy of a man whose evening had gone according to plan, which for Noah meant contacts made, impressions landed, the Benson name deployed to maximum effect in a room full of people who mattered to his interests. He was good at galas. He had always been good at galas. They were his natural environment in a way that he sometimes forgot was not universal, that some people found these evenings exhausting rather than energizing.
I had found them exhausting for years. Tonight I was exhausted for different reasons.
He was talking. I was processing enough of it to respond appropriately, the Harrington connection, the conversation with someone from the arts foundation, a contact in the mayor’s of
