"First," I began, my voice carrying through the speakers to every corner of the hall, "I want to thank each of you for your dedication this past year."
Thunderous applause.
I worked through the list, calling names one by one.
Each recipient bounded up to the stage, beaming, accepting their envelope with effusive thanks. The amounts varied—tens of thousands here, over a hundred thousand there—but every face wore the same delighted grin.
Dean watched the proceedings with hooded eyes.
When a mid-level manager collected his two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus, I caught the subtle curl at the corner of Dean's lips. Contempt, barely concealed.
He leaned toward Mary, murmuring something. She pressed her lips together in a knowing smile and reached over to pat the back of his hand.
The gesture was casual. Intimate.
A few people in the crowd noticed. Curious glances flickered their way.
Dean didn't pull back. If anything, he sat up straighter—basking in the attention, savoring the whispered speculation.
The standard awards wrapped up quickly.
The emcee's voice rose with practiced excitement: "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for—the Annual Special Contribution Award!"