My mom has tried to get me to go and enjoy myself, but what’s there to enjoy? Dancing with strange men? No thank you.
Shaking my head, I give him a small smile. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I already made plans with Bethanie,” I say.
It’s true, too. I promised her that I would go and see her after my interview. He glances to his left toward Bethie’s counter, then looks back at me and shakes his head once.
“Okay, rain check?” he asks.
Nodding my head, I give him a bright smile because I know without a doubt, he will never cash that rain check. I may be inching closer to being able to date, but there is no way that I’m starting any time soon. And definitely not with him, he’s a player, I can see it in his eyes.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Laurent,” he offers with a smile. “Laurent Astor.”
I notice a small dimple in his cheek and bite the inside of my cheek. This guy always gets what he wants, his dazzling smile, the dimple, his tall, strong body. The way he made sure to tell me he’s Mr. Astor’s relative. As if I couldn’t tell that he was related to him based on looks alone.
He is someone who doesn’t take no for an answer, he is someone who isn’t used to rejection. He is someone that I do not want any kind of contact with. Laurent reminds me of him.
“Tenny, are you ready?” Bethie asks. She’s standing next to us, her purse in hand, an expectant look on her face.
“Nice to meet you,” I offer, then turn to Bethie and quickly make my way toward her.
I have a few more hours before I need to be home. Thankfully, my mom is still here and she’s with Holden. Bethie takes my arm, hooking hers with mine.
“That guy, he’s hot, but he’s totally a womanizer. He’ll chew you up and spit you out. Sweet girl like you doesn’t stand a chance,” she sighs.
I snort. “He’s not going to have an opportunity. I don’t date.”
She pauses in her tracks, turning her head to the side, she looks at me with wide, shocked eyes. “Why not?” she practically screeches.
I could keep my son a secret, but he wouldn’t be for long. I have to walk right past her desk to get to the childcare center. I won’t tell her how he came into my life, about what happened to me, only my mother knows that. But, Holden? I’m so proud of him, I’ll definitely tell her all about him.
“Tell me over lunch?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I smile. “I’ll tell you over lunch.”
I don’t take chances anymore, not ever, but something about Bethie seems really safe. She’s inviting and she reminds me a lot of myself… especially the me before.
LANDRY
Clearing my throat, I finish the last line of my document before my office door opens. Laurent waltzes in and plops down in the chair that Tennessee just vacated. Pushing send, I email the file to the attorney, then lift my eyes to meet my son’s.
“Laurent?”
“Lunch?” he asks.
It’s not often that my eldest child asks me to go to lunch. Leaning back in my chair, I eye him suspiciously. Granted, Laurent and I are close, but he usually does his own thing, preferring to see me after work hours, at family functions, and my forced weekly dinners.
“What do you want?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Can’t I want to go with my boss, my own father, for lunch?”
I grunt as I stand to my feet. Turning off my computer monitor, I don’t bother grabbing my suit jacket, preferring to keep my white shirt sleeves rolled up to my elbows. Rounding my desk, I clear my throat as I make my way toward him.
Laurent chuckles again, making his way toward my office door and wrenching it open. “I did want to talk to you about something,” he begins.
I let out a groan. “How much is this going to cost me?”
He lifts his arm, sliding it across my shoulders. “Not much.”
I don’t say anything. Instead, I walk into the elevator car and can’t help but imagine the woman that was just here. Tennessee. I shouldn’t be thinking of her. I should push her out of my mind, but there is a thrill that fills me at the thought of seeing her first thing Monday morning.
Pressing my lips together, I grunt to myself. I’m sick. Truly, there must be something wrong with me. This is not normal. I have been attracted to women before, I can appreciate a beautiful woman of any appropriate age. But never have I hired one I’ve been sexually attracted to, never have I been unable to control an erection the way I was today.
I’m over sixty years old, this just isn’t fucking normal.
The restaurant hostess seats us and I’m glad to sit down. Lifting my hand, I ask for a drink before she can even leave.
“It’s a little early isn’t it, Dad?” Laurent asks.
“You’ve brought me here to ask me for money, or some kind of favor, so no, it’s not.”
He chuckles, his eyes finding mine and he holds my gaze.
“A favor, not money.”
“What is it?”
He grins, leaning back in his seat as the bartender brings my drink and sets it in front of me. Lifting my hand, I extend my finger as I take a sip of my bourbon. Clearing my throat, I place my glass back on the table before I flick my gaze back up to meet my son’s.
“I want a promotion.”
What I want to do is laugh in his face, but I don’t. Instead, I lift a brow as I watch him, then take another drink from my glass.
“No.”
“No?” he practically cries.
Jerking my chin up, I grunt. “No.”
“Why?” he demands, sounding every bit the spoiled brat I tried so hard not to let him become.
I failed at that, just like I have failed at a great many things in my lifetime. All three of my children are spoiled as absolute fuck. I like to think that it’s not my fault, but rather the fault of their mother who bought them things rather than spend quality time with them.
However, I know that it would be a lie. I did the same. Awarded them with things even if they didn’t necessarily deserve them. Sent them to the best schools, gave them every opportunity in life, because these were things that I was given. Though my father did not give them freely, he forced me to earn them, usually forcing me to work much harder than I needed to.
They’re all good and decent people, my children, but they are also spoiled.
This is a lesson that Laurent must learn. He will not get every single thing that he asks for simply because I can give it to him. He will earn it. No longer is he a teenager in high school or college. He is a thirty-year-old man now, he must make his own path, even if I’ve given him his job, he must work his way up the ladder like everyone else.
“Because being related to the owner does not make you qualified for a promotion,” I explain.
“That’s bullshit, it’s not fair,” he announces, sounding as petulant as he did when he was a boy.
Humming, I lean forward and wrap my fingers around my drink before I bring it to my lips again. My mind flitters back to the memory of Tennessee. Her thirst for a position, any position. The way her lips said ‘anything,’ but I knew that I could not ask just anything of her, at least not the anything that I wanted.
She is hungry for a position. Laurent just desires it because he is used to getting what he wants. He definitely is not hungry for that or anything else in life.