“I don’t know why I had this conversation with you.” He lands his head in his hands.
“I also don’t know why, but hopefully I helped.” I flick a tight-lipped smile at him when he reluctantly looks up. “I should go,” I whisper.
I peel myself from his chair and throw the toy basketball at his head. “Get down on that knee, who cares what anyone thinks.” I close the door behind me to leave him with his thoughts. That felt like a better thing to say.
I don’t know why people do this to themselves though. I know Addison isn’t some vindictive psychopath, I know they love each other and probably will last the journey together. In this day and age though, I really didn’t see the appeal of marriage. I watched my father fall for the same shit every time like he never learned. He’s been married three times—the third has stuck around for ten years, which is the longest out of all of them, but I wasn’t holding my breath. She was a lovely lady and they seemed happy together. But they always seem that way. Until they aren’t.
Hell, even the early photos of my dad with my mom made them look happy. And look how that turned out.
Making it back to my office, I close the door, tuck in my AirPods, and get cozy at my desk, ready for Noah to flick over all the details so I can get started on the pitch. Loadingmy Pump playlist—which is just a collection of all my favorite songs with absolutely no uniform genre—I settle in. Landing this account means a lot to Noah and his company, I could see it from the look in his eye. But this is also huge for me. This is what it all comes down to—me showing Noah that he needs me, that I can handle this. The security of the job isn’t so much something I need—I have a hefty cushion from my years of smart investments and hard work to hold me up. I want this solely for myself. To show him and myself that Ican.I can run the show here in NYC. He hasn’t said it, but I know he’s always wanted to move back to Chicago. He hates being away from his mom and sister. I also know it was the motivator for opening the second office there. This is my opportunity to make the statement. To show him, while I can be a dick and mess around, when it comes to this, I am serious. He can trust me. I know I can do this, and I just have to prove it to him.
The sun is setting, but I had closed out the Karvelas Media work an hour or so ago. Instead, I’ve spent the last hour going over my personal books, combing through my investment portfolio, and sending off some emails to my accountant. Growing up the way I did only solidified the need to be well cushioned, should anything happen. Noah’s company was a starter when I first invested, and as they say, 90 percent of start-ups fail in the first five years. Although I was his only investor for those first five years, I would never have held that against him if it didn’t work out. I believed in him—still do—and look how that has turned out, for both of us. But I can believe in my friend, supporthim, and give it my all while still sustaining a healthy level of preparation for the worst case. It’s not skepticism, it’s just business.
So, now I own an expensive high-rise apartment, along with the building as a whole. I made a sneaky purchase of a certain lodge down at Maplewood during the divorce settlement of a former high-society couple, along with my other silent investments in successful start-ups and what have you. One day, when I’m ready to retire and settle somewhere like Bora Bora, I’ll sell it all and live the dream. Quiet, alone, and at peace.
Alone, miserable, and no one to share your hard work with.
This is the fun little taunting voice that likes to sneak in every now and then. Mostly when I’ve recently spoken with my dad and he’s unloaded all his misgivings about love and happiness, like the call I had with him yesterday, brief as it was. His first wife left him because he was dead-ass broke and found a high roller to fulfill her fantasies. The second couldn’t handle the anxiety that came with the level of debt my father was in, but the third, she may have stuck around for the last ten odd years, but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
My father didn’t seem to believe that you can have the best of both worlds. He figures only the richest of the rich get nice things, and being married—no matter how cruel and untrustworthy women are—is better than being alone. So, I’m determined to prove him wrong on both fronts; I can live a lavish life of luxury and have nights filled with beautiful women while still keeping my heart and soul in one piece, locked securely away for no one but me. Don’t let anyone in, and they can’t hurt you. It’s simple science.
I halfheartedly glance at the time, realizing that it seems to have slipped right by me. I quickly snap up my phone, seeing a few messages from the guys to hit up Bozzelli’s. Speakingof proving my father wrong. I quickly type out an affirmative message, closing out my computer and ordering an Uber.
“What do you do for work?” Estelle asks from across the bar-height table.
“I work in sales.” It’s easier not to elaborate or even give workplace names. Every now and then there are psychos on SoulSwipe. I’ve been messaging with Estelle on and off, but we aren’t on any sort of friend level. I’m hardly with the women who warm my bed, so you can never be too careful.
“Ominous.” She narrows her eyes playfully while taking a small pull of her beer. Estelle looks even better in person than in her photos. Not my usual type, she’s rather petite, blonde, and has this innocent aura about her. The way she has flirted unabashedly tells me she is anything but the angel her exterior made her out to be, but I was just struggling to find any actual desire to take it further. She just wasn’t doing it for me.
“Enough about me, tell me about you.” I direct her away from personal details.
“What do you want to know?” she asks, and I take a step closer, tucking a loose hair behind her ear and giving her my signature grin.
“Where you got this perfume from because you smell incredible.” She blushes as expected, and I trail a delicate finger gently across her jaw to her chin and lift it so her eyes meet mine, trying to channel lust, bravado, and hitting her with the sparkle that has a 100 percent panty-melting strike rate.
As if on cue, she swoons and leans into my touch.
Like taking candy from a baby.
“I’m not wearing any perfume,” she whispers.
“Must just be you then.” I make a conscious effort to hood my eyes and bite my lip. I’m getting tired and suddenly eager to get this night under way so I can get a longer sleep. I have a lot of work to get done tomorrow.
As I trail a hand down her arm, I lean forward to whisper in her ear, and that’s when I see her.
Across the bar, she would be impossible to miss, her shoulder-length bouncy curls, her wide and ferocious smile that makes me ache, and those big brown almond eyes layered with the thickest lashes you’ve ever seen. The sight of her, as always, causes a mix of emotions. I’m annoyed and frustrated, because the woman is the most stubborn person in history…I am also suddenly horny. There is no mistaking the way my heart kicks up a notch. Something like excitement floods my veins. I can’t help it, it happens every time she is near. Getting under her skin is like my own version of a high. That shit gets me off, and I love the way I can rile her up. I know all her little tells better than her closest friends. Better yet, I love that shehatesI can read her body language and she can’t work out how to hide it.
The problem is that we are friends…or frenemies, or whatever. We’ve fucked—had the most mind-blowing night of my entire life—and then I’ve pretty much offered my left nut and a kidney for a repeat. But Rosie holds strong to her rule, I am just starved for the challenge it created.
“Caleb?” Oh yeah, there is a woman right in front of me.
“Uhh…Sorry, I’ve just seen an old friend. I’ll be right back.” I don’t even make eye contact, because Rosie is wearing a tiny black leather dress and I want to slip my hand under it and find out if she forewent panties again.
“Are you serious?” Estelle is unimpressed. I don’t blame her, I’m being an A-grade dick right now.
“Sorry. This was fun though. I’ll call you.” I start to head toward Rosie, not in the least bit worried I’m probably interrupting her date.
Estelle mutters a “Don’t bother”under her breath and disappears into my distant memory. All I see is Rosie.
