TIMOFEY
The entrance to the building is lit up like a gaudy beacon. A signal fire screaming, "Invest in us so we can waste more money on fancy parties."
The fountain was brought in specifically for the event, driven in on an oversized truck and filled with water dyed a special shade of blue. It took eight men all day to set it up. Not to mention the valets, the servers, the women who are paid by the hour to make the important guests feel "welcomed."
They won't write "escorts" on the cost breakdown, of course. It will be lumped in with some other line item to make sure no one can accuse the board of bribing investors with prostitutes.
If it had been up to me, this event would have been an email. But the board, in all of their wisdom, insisted. I've made more than enough money that I relented. If they needed to burn some cash to blow off steam, then so be it.
Apparently, I should have kept them on a shorter leash.
