---- Later, to secure a round of funding, I drank through three parties in a row and ended up with a gastric perforation. The doctor rebuked him right outside my hospital room. Lars sat by my bed, a six-foot-tall man like him, crying like a boy who got into trouble. "T'm sorry for not being good enough. Staying with me made you suffer," he said. "T'll never let you down as long as I'm alive," he promised. How laughable. Icurled up on the sofa, cold sweat soaking my back. I took out my phone and dialed his number. No answer. I called twice more-still nothing. At exactly ten, Candice called. "Bianca, he didn't show up at the office again! The paperwork's piling up, and the financing deal is still waiting on his signature. If he disappears again, the company's done for!" she cried. Rubbing my aching stomach, I answered with a distracted hum. "And..." Her voice sped up, "I just heard Royce ---- Farrell, the CEO of Radar Finance, is having his wedding next week in Botolph City. If Lars wants to get the company listed smoothly, he must show up and make an appearance. Otherwise, it's all over!" I froze. "Wait," I said, my voice hoarse. "Who?" "Don't you know? Royce Farrell, the CEO of Radar Finance? If the Farrells give the nod, it's almost a guarantee for our company to get listed!"