Rhythm and Ray: A DJ’s Journey

[Chapter 211: This Account Goes on Koch's Tab]

"Take a seat, young man." The man with a fox-like face gestured for Ryan to sit.

"I didn't expect to run into you here; I thought it would be somewhere else. How old are you?" He wore glasses, looking somewhat refined.

Describing his demeanor as refined but predatory felt just right.

"That's not really up for discussion." Ryan shook his head.

"What do you want to talk about then? Tea? Donkeys? Elephants? You're too young for this. You should be in school, not here trying to stand in line with the adults. You ought to be getting up close with those donkeys; the record association funds that side." He continued.

"So, you just want to have a chat to say these things?" Ryan countered.

"I don't care who you've been in contact with, and I don't care what kinds of advantages you think you're gaining. The people behind me can offer you more -- much more than you need. You're on the wrong side; you have an inherent conflict of interest with that outside crowd. You're not one of them," the refined predator said.

"You think you know me?"

"Not really. I only recognized you after the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show." The refined predator shook his head.

His comment immediately made Ryan think of Candice. It was likely that the model named Candice came to Mar-a-Lago to meet him. In other words, the person Sharon was looking for was probably him.

"Actually, I contributed to the Victoria's Secret Show; I offered a lot of advice," he elaborated further.

"You mean that high-end escort hotspot?"

"Don't say it so bluntly; being too direct diminishes the price." He chuckled.

"Either way, I don't make my money that way." Ryan shrugged it off.

"Money and power often turn into each other. Right now, I can at least have my say in five congressional committees. How many on K Street can do that?"

"I just encountered some issues lately -- let's say a little trouble -- so I need to keep a low profile, but some things can't come to a halt."

"So you need someone to make some introductions?"

"Smart. You're a talented young man. I can introduce you to many big wigs, not just in America, but all over the world. Do you know what it's like to hit the jackpot? Compared to real business, the record industry is just a small boat, and it won't be floating much longer."

"I apologize, but I tend to be cautious. This sort of thing feels too risky for me." Ryan refused directly.

"You'll agree one of these days." He scoffed softly and didn't press further.

"You can leave," he pointed toward the door.

"Leave? Let me remind you why I came here."

"Well, let me remind you. If I hadn't invited you in, there's no way you would have gotten through that door, kid." The refined predator smirked.

Ryan thought for a moment and then stood up.

"Remember to shut the door, and while you're at it, tell the chef to whip up something; they know what I like best." As soon as the refined predator finished speaking, he noticed Ryan hadn't left but was walking toward him instead.

Ryan turned back, suddenly smiling, "Mr. Koch told me that complicated issues often require the simplest solutions."

Strictly speaking, this is working for Koch; Ryan didn't mind using the banner of others to take advantage of others' shortcomings.

Ryan opened the door and whispered something outside before closing it again.

"The feast you wanted is on its way." Ryan seated himself back across from the man.

Just five minutes later, the big feast for the refined predator arrived -- three muscular, dark-skinned men walked into the room.

"Feed the chicken to Mr. Jeffrey!" Ryan sneered.

...

The room echoed with heartbreaking cries followed by pleas for mercy.

The three outside exchanged glances, both surprised and amused, then burst into laughter.

The door opened, and Ryan stepped out.

"He agreed; within an hour, we should have some copies -- how many exactly depends on how fast the crew works today." Ryan smiled.

"I'll call Rand Paul right away." Rick pulled out his phone without question.

The blonde peeked in, and saw Jeffrey sobbing on the floor.

It took the black men less than two minutes to bring him to heel.

"You'd better be careful doing this; watch out for his retaliation," the blonde warned Ryan.

Ryan leaned closer and said, "This account goes on Mr. Koch's tab."

The three black men didn't do anything more than scare him; they hadn't expected the refined predator to crumble so quickly.

Hearing that, the blonde chuckled, thinking to himself why he hadn't thought of that strategy earlier. Sometimes, using thuggish tactics proved to be the most straightforward approach.

Nora also heard and silently noted Ryan's words.

"You mentioned you live nearby?" The blonde assessed Ryan seriously. "That's right."

"My name's Donald Trump. I saw your performance in the news; you were quite the man at Bay Park," he extended his hand to Ryan.

In terms of height, he was about the same as Ryan. Yet, the man's hand felt surprisingly small, maybe the size of a five-foot-six guy.

Years later, this incident would be publicly criticized by Marco, who would jokingly refer to him as a 'big, adorable guy,' prompting Trump to exasperatedly demonstrate his size on camera.

Rick returned at that moment.

...

"Ryan, Rand Paul approved what you asked for; he's calling Marco right now."

Trump heard everything clearly and initially thought Ryan truly had connections with Koch; now it seemed the situation was different.

Could he have risen from nothing? Trump couldn't help but regard Ryan in a new light.

"I've heard your sitcom's internal pilot received a great response; once it airs, I want to make a guest appearance." Trump proactively said.

This was the first active request for a guest role; many people didn't even know Ryan had invested in a sitcom, much less the pilot's response, indicating Trump had some connections in the TV industry.

Ryan recalled what the real estate agent had mentioned -- Trump investing in filming a reality show.

"I need to maintain a public presence for the audience." Seeing Ryan still considering, Trump shrugged and honestly stated his aims.

Having one more guest appearance was better than having one less, and Ryan nodded in agreement.

"By the way, what's the background on this Jeffrey guy?" Ryan began to inquire further.

"A wannabe with a wide social circle, I've known him for years. He doesn't speak much truth but is well-connected. I just kicked him out of the club last month." Trump expressed his disdain for the man.

"Why's that?"

"He harassed other members' daughters and even lured in some underage girls. A few of them had already involved the authorities." Trump shared some unsavory information.

No wonder that man claimed to be running into trouble lately; it seemed he had caught the eye of the prosecutor.

"But for some reason, the Palm Beach prosecutor canceled the criminal charges just yesterday," Trump said, looking puzzled.

This strange turn of events somehow tied to Ryan, but of course, it wasn't Ryan's doing; it was purely coincidental.

Ryan asked further about Jeffrey's background, but Trump seemed reticent, clearly knowing more than he let on but couldn't discuss.

Having sorted out the land issue, another matter was also making progress. When Ryan saw there was nothing more to inquire, he bid farewell to Trump, and they agreed to keep in touch.

...

Ryan and Nora were then escorted back to Miami by Rick.

"I told Rand the truth -- you played a key role. You got Jeffrey talking. He expressed gratitude to you; here's my business card. I'm usually based in Miami, so we'll have plenty of opportunities to meet." Rick laughed as he spoke in the car.

He had interests aligned with Nora as well, and with today's events resolved, he too stood to gain.

Ryan accepted the card.

...

After parting ways with Nora and Rick in Miami, Ryan returned to the hotel. It was already evening, even though he had left that morning.

"Where have you been today? I saw you on TV. Who was that woman?" Taylor asked, surprised upon seeing the worn-out Ryan.

She had noticed Ryan standing next to a short-haired woman at the memorial ceremony on television.

"A business associate. I spent the whole day running errands with her regarding land issues; I got caught up in some major affairs that you wouldn't even believe," Ryan sighed and chuckled; he had truly gained some new insights today. "Luckily, the outcome was positive."

"Have you heard about the park erecting a statue of you?"

"Of course; the mayor told me personally."

"What's next?"

"Rebuilding the music festival. Go grab me a Coke." Ryan plopped down on the couch.

There was still the second half of the music festival to plan.

Taylor retrieved a Coke from the fridge and curled up in Ryan's arms. As Ryan embraced her, he animatedly recounted the day's events, omitting some details while exaggerating others, both of them enjoying a moment of peace.

...

Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Nora began packing her bags. With matters in Miami settled, she had other tasks to manage.

She then called her superior, reporting everything that had happened that day.

"It has been confirmed that Ryan has no connection to the disruption at Bay Park, and his network has further been exposed. He just met Rick, the agent for the Bush family today, and he also has a good relationship with real estate investor Trump. He even seems to maintain close ties with Koch. I recommend elevating Ryan's priority within our internal affairs," she summarized.

"From now on, you are responsible for maintaining contact with him. Report to me as necessary; be generous with him. Try every possible means to win him over. Keep me updated with any developments," her superior instructed on the other end of the line.

*****

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