Once their plates were filled with eggs, bacon, toast and coffee, they looked around for a place to sit. They found a table that only sat two and plopped down. 

     Adam asked, "So what do you...I mean, what's your..."  

     "What am I doing here? Is that what you want to ask?"  

     "Well, no, that's not exactly what I..."

     "I'm not rich or famous, which kind of makes me unique around here."

     "And yet you're an invited guest."

     "I've got an inside...I know. What if I told you I was a reporter?"

     "Are you?"

     "Of sorts."​

​     "And who are you a reporter for?"

​     "Oh I'm..." She waved the question away with her hand. "I'm not working for anyone specific at the moment, I'm freelancing, but..."  

     "So what if I said yes to giving you an interview? Which I rarely do, by the way. What sorts of question would you like to ask me? The usual, I imagine."

     "The usual, of course, such as, where in the hell did you come from, anyway? I'd ask you to let me get a look at your birth certificate."

​     "And my response would be the same one I've given to the last half million people who asked me that question." He swallowed a slice of toast slathered with jam. "It's none of your business where I was born. It's nobody's business."

     "And you can't even imagine why anyone would be curious?" She sipped her coffee and made a face. Too hot. "I mean, here you are, a vigilante, a maverick, a billionaire. You're a man without a country."  

​     "Not true. I am an American. I've taken the test. I vote."

     "Taxes?" 

     "I pay a ton of taxes." 

​     "And still manage to have billions left over to buy weaponry so state of the art that the military itself doesn't have the technology."

     "You know, I believe I'm going to have to say no to this interview."

​     "And why is that?"

     "Because we've only been talking for a few minutes, and I'm already bored to tears. I'll tell you what, though. You have a pen?"

     "Right here." 

​     "I'll give you my number."

     "Please. I don't need a pen for that. I'll put your number right into my directory." 

     He gave her his number, "You go ahead and give Claudia a call." ​

     "And Claudia is..."

     "My assistant."

​     "Okay, one more question, then I promise I won't ask you anything more."

     "It's a deal."

     "Why in the hell are you so damned attractive?" 

     Adam let out a laugh. "Am I?" he asked. "I mean, really?" He used his hand to indicate her short cropped hair, the way she dressed, the way she carried herself. "With you even? I'm sorry, I don't mean to assume, but I just figured you were..."

     "Gay? Of course I'm gay. I haven't got a straight bone in my body."​

​     "With anybody special at the moment?"

​     "Not pertinent, but that's what I'm saying. I've never felt any sort of sexual attraction for any man before in my life, yet even I...it has to be more than just...I mean, it's almost like you're putting out a scent." 

​     "My turn. I get to ask you a question now." 

​     "Is that how this goes?"

     "What's your name?" 

​     "Hah!"

     "I gave you mine, but then we got to talking..." 

​     "Tana. Tana Wingate." 

     "Well, that explains it, then." 

​     "Explains what?"

     "What you're doing here with the rest of the super rich. It's certainly not because you're a freelance reporter. It's because you're Edgar Wingate's daughter."

     "Guilty as charged." 

​     "How is he?"

     "Eating up the industry one diamond mine at a time, as usual."

     "Crazy bastard, but I respect him."  

     "He's worse with his immediate family, I clue you."

     "What do they say? If it's not a Wingate, it's not a real diamond."

​     "Exactly, but I don't intend to go into the family business." She finished off the rest of her coffee with a single gulp. "Back to you..." 

​                                                    CONTINUE