Rhythm and Ray: A DJ’s Journey

[Chapter 249: A Hostile Dinner Invitation]

"They're waiting for you in the meeting room," Ivanka said as she approached Ryan with a warm smile. Today she had meticulously done her makeup, her hair styled up, and donned a dark-colored business dress, with a sapphire brooch adding feminine flair to her look.

By her age, she'd just transitioned out of the awkward phase of youth, radiating a totally different beauty compared to Taylor's traditional golden-haired aesthetic.

Ryan didn't say much, proceeding directly to the meeting room as Ivanka followed closely behind.

Inside, Ryan recognized the man he'd met several times before, an old acquaintance. The other older man appeared stricter, seemingly the superior.

On the table lay several gift-wrapped bags, likely presents for Ryan.

"Too kind of you," Ryan offered to shake hands with both men.

"It's gratitude for your trust. We are honored," the older man, speaking broken English, said earnestly.

Ryan held significant sway over the North American branch of this company, with retailers and venues for Taylor's tour predominantly using their supplies.

"You can rest assured about the supplies for the chain of nightclubs; they will be the lowest prices in the industry," the older man assured him with a firm pat on his chest.

After discussing technical specifications and contracts, they emphasized wanting to strengthen their relationship with Ryan.

"By the way, how is the North American branch doing?" Ivanka asked, interjecting.

"Things are generally going well, but we are still looking for someone familiar with the North American market. It's often inconvenient for us foreign investors," the older man admitted.

Ryan was aware of this beforehand and was indeed considering investing but did not want to get involved in operations.

"I wonder if Mr. Rivers might recommend someone. You will be rewarded handsomely after the matter is accomplished," he pressed further.

Ryan shook his head, "If I had anyone in mind, I would have let you know already."

"My father knows someone who has managed similar ventures; he may be able to help you," Ivanka offered, being helpful since their partnership was solid.

"Really? That would be great! You must be Mr. Rivers' fiance, right? I heard you're also a singer. You two make a great match," the older man said eagerly.

"Um..." Ivanka looked embarrassed as the comment caught her off guard.

The man clearly hadn't done proper research, known Ryan had a fiancee who was blonde, but he didn't know what she looked like. And seeing how beautiful Ivanka was, he naturally thought she was Ryan's fiancée.

"She's just the management administrator, not my fiancee," Ryan clarified quickly.

"Sorry, I just arrived in America not long ago," the man stammered, flustered.

"It doesn't matter. Find a few more white girls to learn English from and have some in-depth communication with them. The more you see each other, the better you'll be able to tell them apart," Ryan jested, laughing heartily.

"I'll look for some English coaches," the man nodded understandingly, not realizing Ryan was teasing.

"In that case, I can help contact them." Ryan thought that assisting the other party would enhance their relationship.

Ivanka shot Ryan a glance, considering whether to mention that it was her father's influence...

The insinuation was that they'd have to go through her father, yet with his attitude towards Ryan, it might be difficult.

"Just say their products are competitive enough to consider investing; your father might also show interest," Ryan offered a suggestion on how she should pitch it.

Ivanka nodded thoughtfully.

"Investment? Mr. Rivers, will you be investing in us?" the executive's voice lifted in excitement.

"Not interested?"

"No, no, of course we're interested! Having you as an investor is a tremendous honor!" the man replied eagerly.

In the end, Ryan managed to secure a 10% share in the North American branch for $100,000, which he considered a bargain, and the other's excitement was palpable. From the other party's perspective, $100,000 was a sky-high price.

With the pleasant conversation wrapped up, Ryan personally escorted the men out.

...

Afterward, Ryan turned his attention to Ivanka.

"They mentioned wanting to see you, and I figured I'd report back on that," Ivanka shrugged, aware that either way, it was no big deal since the information could've been shared over the phone.

"Fair enough. At least I got to come see you," Ryan replied cheerfully.

Ivanka thought, 'Well, at least he has some decency.'

Once inside Ivanka's office, she locked the door behind them.

"You look exceptionally good today; was it all for me?" Ryan remarked, eyeing her up and down.

"Absolutely not," Ivanka replied instantly, shaking her head.

Ryan chuckled, avoiding calling her out on her competitive side with Taylor, and instead, he asked about business.

Ivanka approached him closely, holding several reports for him to review, her presence unnervingly close.

"Things appear to be promising; within just a few days, over twenty franchises have put down deposits," Ivanka heaved a sigh of relief, glad to present a satisfactory report.

"After reducing the initial fee by half, that is $50,0000, we still see income of about $20,000 after renovations and equipment installation, while the monthly rent differential from these franchises easily generates around $10,000. Running the numbers for five hundred franchises could yield a monthly profit of five million, equating to a phenomenal annual return of sixty million," she explained.

"What are you going to do to thank me?" Ivanka's eyes twinkled as she looked at Ryan.

She leaned over the desk, approaching him, yet this time Ryan skillfully avoided her advances, not wishing to carry the scent of her perfume.

"There's still work to handle over there, and I need to head out," Ryan noted, sensing the situation becoming overly complicated. He stood, preparing to leave before Ivanka could respond.

...

Ivanka stared at the empty office, muttering a curse at Ryan under her breath.

She called her father, mainly discussing matters regarding the LED supplier.

"Investing in an LED supplier from China?" her father questioned incredulously.

"Yeah, their products are highly competitive, priced at half of similar products while achieving the same results. They urgently need someone familiar with the North American market, and I recall you had a good relationship with similar vendors," Ivanka recalled.

"Wait a minute; are you telling me this company has connections to Ryan?" her father's tone turned serious.

"Not really; they are just suppliers for the Spirit club. I just see an investment opportunity, and we can explore it. If you're not interested, then forget it," Ivanka downplayed the situation.

"Save it, it has to be Ryan who put you up to contacting me, right? Oh God, my worst fear has come to life; you've fallen for that bastard!" her father exploded.

"You need to come back on the plane tomorrow! If I don't see you by tomorrow night, you can forget about being my daughter!" Donald Trump's fury was palpable.

"Are you out of your mind?" Ivanka exclaimed.

"Crazy is what you are! Ivanka, I'll admit I'm not a decent father, but I love you, kiddo. You know deep down this isn't going to last with Ryan," he implored.

"I really haven't done anything with Ryan," Ivanka insisted again.

"You might convince your brother with that story, but everyone else can see through it," her father sneered.

"No, I truly haven't," Ivanka continued to deny.

"Well then, come back."

"I can't leave right now!"

"Then I will come to you!"

Just then, Ivanka panicked, "I'm just having some fun! We both benefit; can you stop making it a big deal?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

"Just fun?" her father reiterated carefully.

"Right, he's got a fiancee, and there's no way anything serious would happen between us," Ivanka sighed, rubbing her temples.

"Okay then, just be cautious and don't get into any trouble; you still need to marry someday," her father chuckled lightly before hanging up.

Ivanka stood shocked for a few seconds, not fully digesting it.

When did he become so open-minded? Shouldn't he be angry? Was it because Ryan worked with him, making it difficult for him to intervene? So he just accepted it.

Filled with relief, Ivanka thought at least her father wouldn't meddle further.

Yet she also understood her father's point: any genuine progression between herself and Ryan seemed doomed to fail.

...

The next afternoon, Ryan went to the airport to see Taylor off on her ongoing Fearless tour, which continued from the West Coast down through the Sun Belt, moving east to the East Coast, heading north, and multi-stopping around the Great Lakes.

This routing was Robert's (Taylor's tour manager) idea, optimizing transportation for their gear across the country.

As for Ryan, he had a performance that evening, contrasting Taylor's continuous gigs with his fixed shows.

...

Before arriving at Bad Room, Ryan received a call from Donald Trump.

"Ryan, where are you?" he asked point-blank.

"I'm at work; is there a problem with the guarantee? Or is the United Bank trying to back out?" Ryan speculated.

Donald Trump chuckled awkwardly, "Everything's going smoothly. To show my gratitude, I'd like to invite you to the Mar-a-Lago Club for the evening since I'm on holiday here. Are you free?"

"Really can't make it; I have a performance," Ryan replied warily.

Logic told him that Donald Trump wouldn't invite him just to celebrate; there was most likely an ulterior motive.

"No problem, you can come after your show. We're neighbors, and you have to return home eventually," Donald Trump pressed on his invitation.

"Alright, then I won't say no," Ryan resolved, finding it hard to refuse.

...

After hanging up, Ryan couldn't help but speculate, considering his current partnership with Donald Trump, hoping it didn't relate to Ivanka.

Without hesitation, Ryan dialed Ivanka's number.

"Does your dad know?"

"Know what? About us... He knows a little; did he call you?" Ivanka quickly caught on.

"It's more than a simple call; he wants me to meet him at Mar-a-Lago."

"Don't go! You absolutely can't meet him! He won't dare to retaliate against you!" Ivanka warned urgently on the phone. "But if you meet with him, the outcome will be entirely different. Just ignore him."

"No, at this point, some issues need addressing," Ryan decisively replied.

Since he was aware that her father had learned about them, dodging the problem wasn't a solution. He could force himself into confronting it.

"I... I'll come with you. I'll protect you."

"When did I ever need to hide behind a woman's back?" Ryan chuckled. "This is my business with him; you don't need to get involved."

"Ryan, can't you both cool down? If it escalates... I'm sorry; this is all my fault! I've wronged everyone involved," Ivanka lamented.

"Don't get overwhelmed; I'll handle it all, including your father."

"He is still my dad; you can't hurt him."

"I'll be sensible about it," Ryan assured her.

Ivanka hung up the phone, contemplating whether to proceed to Mar-a-Lago...

Ryan quickly returned to Bad Room, gathering Berwick right away.

"Tonight might turn into a rough battle; tell the guys to be ready," Ryan warned.

...

Late at night, Ryan arrived alone at Mar-a-Lago, stepping out of the car only to be surrounded by security personnel demanding to check him.

"Mr. Rivers, we apologize, but these are the security protocols at Mar-a-Lago. We have many high-profile guests, and we need to ensure member safety," one of them explained earnestly.

Ryan complied with the search, but instead of heading into the banquet hall, he was led to a small reception room.

"Take a seat, Ryan," Donald Trump greeted cheerfully, though his voice was gravelly.

The security personnel did not leave but occupied strategic positions around the room, subtly encircling Ryan. With his hands still in his pockets, Ryan quickly dialed a number.

"Have you eaten, Ryan? Order whatever you want, but you might want to keep it light; you may end up vomiting after since I'd rather not have you spoil the place," Donald Trump snickered, not wasting time on pleasantries.

"Are you threatening me?" Ryan asked, concealing a smile.

"No, I'm not threatening you; that wouldn't work on you. I've told you before, if you ever touch my daughter, you'll pay! Tonight, it's time to settle your debts!" Donald Trump shouted angrily, slamming his fist on the table.

Ryan pretended to be puzzled: "There must be a misunderstanding here."

"No misunderstanding. My daughter told me everything; you planned everything, including that ridiculous Spirit club. I fell for your lies! You despicable bastard! You think I'll sell my daughter out for your guarantee? I'd rather go bankrupt; a company pales compared to my daughter! Beat him, severely!" Donald Trump pointed at Ryan with heated fury.

Just as he finished, a loud crash echoed from outside the room, followed by a string of shouts and screams.

"Boom!" The door to the reception room was kicked open, revealing Berwick and a crew of over ten men, who had poured out to control the situation.

Ryan clasped his hands together, resting them on the table, smiling calmly.

"Young man, don't be so reckless. Let's keep it civil," Donald Trump's composure crumbled as cold sweat began to bead on his forehead.

*****

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