Chapter 11: Say It Where They Can Hear

Three days later Averett had to be charming for six hundred people.

The ballroom of the Beaumont, the oldest Kingsbury hotel in New York, glittered around him.

It was the Foundation's autumn benefit.

The chandeliers were lit and the champagne was flowing.

A woman in diamonds was explaining how much she had given to children's hospitals this year.

"That's very generous," Averett said.

In his right ear, very low, a voice said, "Smile at her. Not like that. Like you mean it."

He nearly choked on his champagne.

Jarek had clipped the earpiece on him himself in the service corridor.

One big hand had tilted his head, and a fingertip had pressed the bud into place.

"There are two channels," he had said. "Quarles hears the team line. This one is only between you and me."

"Is that allowed?"

"No."

Now Jarek stood fifteen feet behind him, against a pillar, with his hands folded and his face blank.

His voice was inside Averett's head.

"Good," the voice said. "The next one is the banker. Shake his hand, and don't let him hold it too long."

Averett shook the banker's hand.

"I've been thinking about the dinner on Friday," Jarek said softly.

Averett kept his smile.

"I'm not going to do anything in this room. I can't.

There are six hundred people and Quarles is forty feet away.

So I'm going to tell you what I'm going to do upstairs."

Heat went down Averett's spine.

He said to the banker, "Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, wonderful turnout."

"Wonderful."

"First," Jarek said in his ear, "I'm going to take that tie off you slowly."

Averett's glass tilted in his hand.