American History 1988
Chapter 249 - 242 Are You Interested?

Chapter 249: Chapter 242 Are You Interested?

The weather in California was still somewhat scorching in September, and Dean furrowed his brow as he climbed out of bed.

"Shit! Just how crazy did I go last night?"

Dean rubbed his lower back in wonder, feeling a trace of soreness.

At his age, he had never experienced anything like it before.

He turned to glance beside him, where the hand-crafted ebony bed, with its expensive wool cashmere sheets and blankets, had been thoroughly ravaged.

Jennifer Connolly, bereft of any covering on her body, was still fast asleep next to him, apparently unaffected by Dean’s movements.

It was clear that not only Dean but Jennifer Connolly as well had been worn out.

Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, he twisted his waist and felt his head was still somewhat dizzy.

He had drunk a lot last night and now could hardly remember the situation at the time.

With a few cracks of his joints, his heavy head finally began to clear a little.

"Dean, spare me, I’m really tired. Let me rest a bit longer."

Jennifer Connolly’s delicate arms flailed around, as if she was pushing something away.

Dean suddenly burst into laughter at the sight, his laughter tinged with a bit of triumph.

Look, she’s begging for mercy even in her dreams; it’s clear she was thoroughly ravaged last night, too.

His laughter finally roused Jennifer Connolly from her groggy sleep, and she seemed not quite awake.

"Dean, is it daylight already?"

"Of course," Dean lifted a corner of the curtain, and the bright sunshine made Jennifer squint instinctively.

"Oh~ God, finally it’s morning."

Jennifer rolled over lazily onto her back, sighing with relief as if grateful for surviving a narrow escape.

"Darling, was I very ungentlemanly last night?" Dean now had no memory of that part.

"No, you should ask me what exactly I went through last night?" Jennifer Connolly looked at him doubtfully.

"Is this the power of $1.5 billion? I felt like I was being charged by a wild bull all through the second half of the night."

Dean shrugged, "Sorry, I drank too much last night. I can’t remember what happened."

"Okay~ Okay~ just don’t disturb me today, let me sleep a bit longer."

Jennifer Connolly truly couldn’t hold up any longer; she’d hardly slept at all in the latter part of the night.

"Alright, I’ll go see if any of the guests are still around." Dean and his company were currently at the Fairmont Hotel in San Francisco.

Last night’s party had gone on all night before finally breaking up, and he remembered Durell seemed to have come looking for him.

But before they’d exchanged a few words, someone had interrupted the conversation; it was too noisy at the party.

Later, he had chatted with Hillary, but he couldn’t quite remember what was said.

Damn it, he’d only had a bit too much to drink last night; he hadn’t expected the aftermath to be so severe.

But he couldn’t not drink, he was absolutely the main character. There were too many people seeking conversation with Dean to count.

Stepping out of the hotel room, Dean went straight to find his personal assistant, Caitlin.

"Hey, Caitlin, have my guests left yet?"

"Some are still resting; some have already left," Caitlin replied briefly, her gaze fixed on him.

"What’s up? Is there something wrong with my face?" Dean touched his face, puzzled, as Caitlin continued to stare at him intently.

"No, sir!" Caitlin instinctively brought her feet together.

"Okay, Caitlin, relax. This isn’t the military. Just call me Dean," he repeated what he had said many times before.

Caitlin was a retired Marine and a single mother.

After leaving the military, she had worked as corporate security and had tried to be part of the white-collar world by taking off her uniform.

But her blunt personality and fiery temper made it hard for her to fit in with normal life.

Her female colleagues often mockingly referred to her behind her back as the hillbilly from the military.

For her child’s sake and for a salary, Caitlin endured it.

Finally, after being ridiculed one time too many, Caitlin, in front of the entire office, defiantly flipped them the bird and resigned from the company.

She thought she’d have to go back to working security, dealing with demanding men.

But just then, Bill’s call came through – yes, Dean’s Uncle Bill.

In the years following the end of the Vietnam War and before Bill had retired, Caitlin had been under his command when she had first enlisted.

Over time, Bill had heard bits and pieces about her but hadn’t kept in much contact.

It was because of a call from Dean that he suddenly remembered Caitlin.

Bill thought she had both the professional skills of a soldier and the attentiveness unique to women.

Dean needed someone by his side who was reliable and attentive to handle his private matters.

Caitlin was obviously the right choice. Although she was straightforward, she was tight-lipped.

So, after arranging a meeting for both parties, Dean decided to keep Caitlin on.

Besides her, there was also Paul, a male security officer outside recommended by Bill.

Rather than seeking help from a security company, Dean trusted the recommendations of family members more.

As for people recommended by David Morgentaler and Anthony Kennedy, they were in Silicon Valley looking after his villa there.

Now, Caitlin had been with him for nearly a month, but many of her old habits had not changed.

"Sorry, sir." Upon hearing Dean’s reminder, Caitlin straightened up once again.

Dean shook his head helplessly; well, that was a problem to be dealt with another time.

"Is Durell still here?" Dean had already given her a list and contact details of important guests in advance.

"Mr. Durell left last night."

Alright, Dean would visit him in person later.

He vaguely remembered last night that Durell had mentioned something about Go Company.

"What about Mrs. Clinton?" Another important person.

"She’s gone too." Caitlin glanced at him and then averted her gaze.

"When?"

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, regretting drinking too much last night.

He should have said goodbye to the governor’s wife, so she wouldn’t think he had neglected her.

Dean remembered the article in the New York Herald Tribune; whether it was her or not, it was always best to be cautious.

"Very early." Caitlin was as laconic as ever.

"OK, tell me who else is still here." Dean rephrased his question.

Caitlin named a few people, but Dean shook his head indifferently. They were not on his list.

"Settle the bill at the front desk later, I’m going outside to make a call."

"Understood." Caitlin clicked her heels as she left the doorway.

Although she still needed to adapt, having a personal assistant had indeed made life much easier for Dean.

After all, he was now a billionaire worth 1.5 billion dollars; he had to maintain a certain grandeur.

Dean, in high spirits, walked to the garden to make a phone call.

The call connected swiftly, and a response came from the other end.

"Sorry Hillary, I drank too much last night and didn’t get a chance to say goodbye this morning."

"Don’t worry about it, Dean, yesterday was your moment."

"The fundraiser is next month, right? I’ll rally the support from Silicon Valley for Bill."

Clinton was set to announce his run for the presidency in October, and Dean had gotten the news in advance.

"Thank you, Dean. But don’t forget about the more important matter," Hillary reminded him with a smile, as she was on her way back to Arkansas.

"The more important matter?" Honestly, Dean was having trouble remembering.

"You said if I want to make big money, I should follow your footsteps."

"Oh," Dean nodded, smiling, "I remember now, we talked about a big deal yesterday."

"Hmm," Hillary confirmed he was right.

"This matter needs careful consideration, but we’ll have to wait for the right opportunity."

Dean did have some ideas about a big business deal that could involve the governor’s couple.

But they weren’t immediate. Dean needed to wait for the right moment.

"I’m looking forward to your good news."

"It’s a promise."

After hanging up, Hillary, reclining in her chair, passed her Motorola to Cheryl Mills by her side.

Then, under Cheryl’s concerned gaze, she adjusted her position and closed her eyes.

"Cheryl, I’m tired. Do not disturb me unless it’s an important call."

...

"Durell, did you talk to me about Go Company last night?"

In the afternoon, after dealing with some urgent official business, Dean visited Durell’s other villa in San Francisco.

"It seems like you had an eventful night," Durell joked with a smile.

Last night when he left, Dean had been so besieged by ladies that not even his Hollywood girlfriend at his side could keep them at bay.

1.5 billion dollars—its power was immense.

The ladies even collaborated to deliberately distract Jennifer Connelly so they could get Dean alone.

Having mingled in West Coast circles for so long, it was the first time Durell saw women cooperate with each other to win the attention of the same man.

He was surprised they hadn’t come to blows—weren’t women supposed to be jealous of each other?

Seeing that teasing look in Durell’s eyes, Dean knew he was being made fun of.

"Alright buddy, I’m here on business today."

"OK," Durell offered him a wine glass, "Want some red wine?"

"No, just water for me." Dean’s head was still heavy, all thanks to too much drink the night before.

With a nod to his butler, Durell also got down to business.

"Go Company is having some trouble."

Dean, who was stuffing a cookie in his mouth, paused, "Didn’t they just secure funding last year?"

"This isn’t about money," Durell took a sip of his wine, then shook his head, "Well, it is a bit about money."

"What do you mean?" Dean was curious about what kind of trouble a well-funded company like Go could be having.

"Go Company’s competitors are increasing, there are some licensing issues, and we have also encountered unfair competition.

What I want to know is your opinion about Go Company and whether you are interested in buying them out?"

Durell’s rapid succession of words caught Dean off guard.

"Hang on, Durell..." Dean motioned for him to slow down.

Go Company, which was in such good shape last year, had suddenly fallen on hard times.