Page 12 of Dirty Little Secret, Baby
In any case, she was gone when I got back. Dilara told me she had stormed out of the house. She'd tried to stop her, but Beth didn't seem interested. Dilara asked if she could comfort me, unzipped her dress, and was suddenly standing stark naked infront of me, right in my foyer, practically shoving her silicone breasts in my face.
But I didn't want her. I was angry that Beth might have thought I didn't want to see her again just because my assistant had woken me up over a trivial matter and now wanted to get screwed by me. It was too much. I fired her on the spot, told her to go to hell. And that's what she did: she now works for Jake.
RING RING RING
The phone rips me from my thoughts.
"It's Troy, sir," my assistant explains.
"Put him through," I say.
"Troy, you old dog. How's it going? It's been a while. You back on the prowl?" I ask my high school buddy, with whom I hit just about every nightclub back in the day, getting into all sorts of trouble.
"On the contrary, my friend. Things are serious with me and Monica," he says.
"How serious?" I ask, feeling my heart rate speed up.
"So serious that I'm calling you right now to ask you, a very busy CEO, to save the date: July 24th. Because that's when Monicaand I are getting married. And you're cordially invited. With a plus-one."
"That's... I don't know what to say, man. Congratulations."
"Thanks, buddy," he replies. "Invitation's on its way." Then I hear a voice in the background. "Monica wants to know if you're bringing someone."
"I... I don't know yet. Is it okay if I let you know?" I ask, unable to stop Beth's image from appearing in my mind's eye again. What was wrong with me? I'd basically forgotten about her for a year—okay, not entirely, that would be a lie. I had tried to find her. But there were hundreds of flower shops in New York, and I hadn't ordered the flowers, and they were thrown out the next morning. So how was I supposed to find her? So I gave up. Oh, man, am I getting this worked up just because the charity gala is at my house tonight?
"It's all good. I'll be in touch. Take it easy."
"Will do," I reply, and we end the call.
RING RING RING
My phone rings again the moment I hang up.
"Who is it now?" I ask Eric.
"It's..." He hesitates. "It'shim," he says quietly, and I know who he means. It's Jake. Eric has developed a sense that every time the name Jake is mentioned in my company, I'm liable to hit the ceiling. So he avoids the name to keep from catching my wrath. Smart kid, my assistant.
"Put him through," I snap, feeling my body tense up.
"Alex, old pal. So, how's life on the losing side?" he says, sounding as smug as ever.
"What do you want, Jake?" I ask. "Are you just calling to stir up trouble? Or do you want to tell me who else you've poached? Or have you finally realized you're an asshole?" I snap, balling my hands into fists.
"Alex, Alex. Easy now, bro."
"We're not bros anymore. Not since you stabbed me in the back and copied my business model."
"Alex, my revenue will be overtaking yours soon enough. Then no one will give a damn who was here first. And once I have that little shop on 4th Street, things are really going to blow up. There's a little business in there. You know the one I mean?"
I say nothing, though I know exactly which one he means. How did he even find out about that place? We'd been in written negotiations with the landlord for over a year and had been sending offers to the tenant so we could take over the shop. And now, just as we're about to close, Jake interferes?
"Jake. This is exactly what I'm talking about. You let us do all the work, and just before we seal the deal, you come and piss in our soup. I swear to you..."
"Always with the threats, Alex. What then? You gonna punch me in the face, like last time?" he asks, alluding to a clash at a summer party in the mayor's garden. He provoked me there, too, and nothing felt as good as decking him, even if it didn't solve any business problems.
"Actually, that's a great idea. Is your nose straight again? Can you still smell Dilara's pussy with it when you're going down on her?" I ask, trying to get a rise out of him now.
"You're such a dirty, rotten little..."
