The Eternal World Read Online Free PDF Page A

least, that had been the case up until a couple of weeks ago. The company had been in turmoil since its CEO had died of a sudden massive coronary. His son, Simon Oliver IV, took the top position.
    The younger Oliver had used his family fortune to pay for an endless series of parties around the globe while his father worked himself into an early grave. TMZ recently caught him smashing a Lamborghini into a semi, then offering the other driver all the cash in his wallet to take the blame. David felt irrationally, personally insulted at that; he didn’t like drunk drivers.
    Wall Street didn’t take the news well, either. Conquest’s stock was down twenty percent, and analysts were on the business-chat shows telling anyone who’d listen it was time to sell.
    David wasn’t sure he wanted to work for someone like Simon Oliver IV.
    But the word on Wall Street was that Simon had no interest in the company as anything more than a no-limit ATM. David figured he’d never even get so much as a glimpse of the new CEO.
    “DAVID.”
    Simon Oliver called to him from baggage claim. He looked just like his paparazzi shots, which inevitably showed him falling out of a limo, a bottle in one hand, a B-list starlet or wannabe model in the other. Behind him was a full entourage, composed in equal parts of hangers-on, eye candy, and security personnel.
    Simon wore a conservatively cut dark gray suit. It made him look even younger, like a kid playing in his dad’s clothes. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but he smiled brightly.
    He offered his hand. David took it. Simon pulled him into a back-slapping man-hug. “Glad to meet you,” he said, pounding David hard between the shoulder blades.
    Before David could say anything, Simon spun him around to face the entourage. “Guys, this is David. He’s the one. He’s going to put us over the top. He’s my new MVP, so I want all of you pricks to treat him like you would me.”
    Another guy, about Simon’s age—sharp-featured, wearing a suit that could have been done by the same tailor—smirked. “So we have to pretend he’s not an asshole?”
    Simon barked a laugh. “Hilarious, Max. I nearly ruptured a bowel. Come on. Let’s get a drink in this guy’s hand.”
    Simon still had his arm around David. One of the girls peeled away from the scrum of people and produced, seemingly out of nowhere, a can of beer.
    “Beer? Light beer?” Simon said in horror. “Oh, Tiffani. Good thing I didn’t hire you for your taste.”
    Other people in the baggage claim area gawked at them. Simon’s crowd had formed an island in the stream of people trying to get to their luggage or trying to get out to the taxi stands. A few bystanders even took pictures; they didn’t know who Simon was, but anyone with that many security guards had to be famous.
    A TSA employee heaved himself from a stool at the nearest doorway and stalked over to them.
    “Sir,” he said loudly. “You’re gonna have to move along. Can’t have you blocking traffic.”
    The smile vanished from Simon’s face.
    “Or else what, McGruff? You gonna shoot me?”
    The security guards flanked their boss with practiced moves. David might have been imagining it, but they seemed annoyed and bored. Not the first time this sort of thing has happened, clearly.
    “Just move along, sir,” the TSA agent said, waving them off.
    “Are you shitting me?” Simon laughed. “I could put this whole airport on my AmEx Black just to fire your ass if I felt like it. I pay more for a decent meal than you earn in a week. In case you still don’t get it, I am the One Percent, asshole, and we own people like you.”
    The agent scowled and reached for his belt. It looked as if this conversation was about to end with Simon getting Tased. Then Simon seemed to remember David was still at his side.
    “Why are we waiting around here?” he said, the smile reappearing, the sun beaming from behind a sudden storm cloud. “We have a lot of sights and