“Those are the best kinds of relationships.  It’s absolutely wonderful when the other person wants you more than you want them.”

Lucien laughed.  She was one to talk because he knew that Clive had practically begged his sister to marry him; but he also knew that his sister had been madly in love with Clive--and that’s what he wanted.  Lucien wouldn’t sacrifice romance, to be with a woman who loved him and the sentiment only went one way.  When he married, he would marry for love and for life--not because some woman had a oneway crush on him.

When he was a few feet from the front door, he pulled his sister to his side.  In this part of the house the crowd of people was the thickest, and he wanted to be heard over their noisy voices.

“I’ll be back in less than an hour.  If you can--pull poppa aside, and ask if he can request a favor from the police department.”

Chantel frowned, appearing confused.  Lucien said...

“Chantel--Horatio Bloom is the head of missing persons.  If Tollin doesn’t show up, he might be able to help.  Talk to poppa--get him to ask Horatio to wave the forty-eight hour wait as a favor to him.”

He smiled, then he said...

“For all we know, Tollin is probably playing the hermit, held up in his penthouse.  Maybe he decided that there wasn’t anything worth celebrating today.  Hell, can you blame him.  He’s dealing with the memory of killing that little girl, and losing Eliza.  With that kind of weight on a person’s shoulder, who could blame them if they chose to shy away from the world.”

Chantel nodded, then Lucien skirted around the guest, until he finally reached the front door--stepping out into the mad rush of street party’s.  Lucien’s heart plummeted, faster than a brick thrown from the roof.  The traffic on his block was at a standstill.  There’d be no traveling on the ground for him.  He pulled out his mobile phone, then pressed a button to phone his pilot.  After one ring, the phone was answered.

“Hey boss.  Happy holiday.”

“Same to you Caesar--look--normally, I wouldn’t bother you on a holiday--but, from where I’m standing--the ground traffic is unbelievably thick.”

Lucien could hear Caesar’s grin in his voice....

“No bother boss--what can I do for you?”

“First off man--are you sober?”

“As sober as I’m going to get on a day like today.”

Lucien nodded, fully understanding his meaning.  If he waited another hour, his pilot will have drank more, thereby being less sober than his present state.  In this situation, Lucien would have to take what he could get.

“All right then--meet me on the roof of the brownstone in twenty minutes.  I’ll wait for you there at the helipad--and if you don’t think that you’re sober enough to fly, find me a pilot who’s clearheaded and won’t fly into the side of a building.”

Caesar laughed then said...

“I guess, that about describes me boss.  See you in ten.”

***********

Chapter 4

12:29 PM

Samaritan Conclave

The beginning of the Samaritan Philanthropic Year

Peace be to all

Ona leaned against the wall, balancing her pad while trying to sip her coffee.  She pressed the cup on her lip--blowing across the surface to cool it.  She stared at the screen, adjusting her proposal and adding other notes.  She’d arrived shortly after ten o’clock like most of her Sect, prepared to request financial backing for this years charity project. She’d taken up her normal spot in the rotunda, watching the morning news.  Every year, people belonging to the Samaritan Sect began their philanthropic year submitting charity proposals to their local Conclave.  The Sect’s council members reviewed these projects, and after evaluating each submission, the council would decide which plans would receive Conclave financial backing.  It is an honor an a privilege to have your proposal selected by the Conclave and members in Ona’s family had never been turned down.  In the past, she’d worked alongside her parents, assisting them while they carried out their projects.  Now that she was of age, and she could submit her own proposal, Ona questioned the possibility that her idea might be more than she could handle on her own.  All year, she’d waited for this day, and she’d known exactly what she would propose to the council.  In spite of her certainty, Ona was beginning to have doubts.  What would she do if the council refused her?  Where would she get the funding to carry out this enormous undertaking?

Ona’s musing was cut short when she was joined by her brother.

“What time are you scheduled to appear before the council?”

Noah raised his brow in question.  Ona shrugged.

“Haven’t heard.  The last announcement stated that the council is reviewing the proposals, and to check the screen to see if you’ll be one of the lucky ones.”

That wasn’t exactly what the announcement had said--but Noah understood.  Upon arriving at the Samaritan Conclave, all proposals are submitted on the central computer--then the participants stand and wait, hoping to see their name flashing on the overhead screen.  Noah had gone in with the first set of people because their projects were not directly affected by the news reports.  He worked with a group of Samaritan’s repairing infrastructures.  Last year, a flash flood had wiped out a bridge in a remote mountain area--and since then, its inhabitants had been cut off from civilization.  That’s where Noah and his group of Samaritans were heading.

Noah trained his eyes on the screen.  He watched the names flashing, but he didn’t see Ona’s name.  He said...

“Mom and dad--have you seen them yet?”

“Yes--and they received their funding.”

For the past ten years, Ona’s parents worked in the Congo building schools alongside the villagers.  She thought about this, because if her proposal was not approved, she wouldn’t have any choice except to join her parents.  Ona didn’t have to share her concern with her brother because Noah already knew.  They stood quiet watching the names, until they were joined by her brothers friend, Geff.

“Did you ask her Noah?”

Geff was not an unattractive person--it’s just that, he wasn’t someone Ona found attractive at all.  He was tall, fair haired and lanky.  In her estimation, his only redeeming quality was that he was a nice, pleasant and affable man--but what Samaritan man wasn’t nice, pleasant and affable.  On the other hand, Ona’s brother regularly turned heads when it came to her female friends. Ona looked at Geff questioningly, because she’d forgotten that he’d just said something to Noah.  Her brother looked to the ground, then he moved his feet about, trying to evade something--but Ona didn't know what.

Noah cleared his throat, then he said...

“Ona--Geff’s family has invited us to supper tonight--to celebrate the beginning of this Philanthropic year.”

Us, she thought to herself.  Us would mean, her, her parents, her adopted brother Caleb and Noah.  In truth, Geff’s invitation meant something else, and Noah knew this as well.  Before asking for a woman’s hand in marriage, it is common among the Samaritans to share special meals together--and to this philanthropic Sect, no meal is more special than the meal prepared for this day.  Also, since Geff doesn’t have any sisters, that would mean that this special dinner isn’t being hosted to win over Caleb or Noah--if not them, then that only leaves Ona.

Ona’s brained raced with thoughts, and ways to politely refuse, when grace favored her.  White large letters scrolled across the screen, announcing her name.

“Ona...”  Geff said...

“Yes...Ona.”  she replied.  Both men looked at her confused.  Ona beamed a smile, saying...

“My name...my name is on the screen.  The council selected my proposal.”

Noah corrected her...

“The council wants to discuss your proposal--there’s a big difference.”