“Dylan, I feel like you’re not paying attention to me,” Lucretia snapped.
“Sorry. I was thinking about work. I am a businessman, you know?”
“I know you’re a businessman, but all you ever do is think about work. I thought this was going to be a night for you and me. I was hoping …” She bit down on her lower lip seductively.
“Yes?”
“I was hoping I could go back to your place tonight and maybe I could stay the night.”
“You want to come back to my place and stay the night?” I said dryly. “And you want to stay the night because …?”
“Why do you think, silly?” She placed her hand under the table and squeezed my thigh. She ran her fingers up the inside of my thigh, close towards my cock, but I felt nothing.
“I don’t think so, not tonight, Lucretia.” I shook my head as I brushed her hand away from mine. “In fact, I’m not sure that we should continue seeing each other.”
“What are you talking about? You just got me red roses. I—”
“I just wanted you to enjoy some beautiful flowers, but I think we might be on two different levels right now.”
“What do you mean two different levels? What does that mean? Is it because I said I’m going to be in Sergio Meyer Johnson’s show? It’s not true, you know.”
“What’s not true?”
“All of the models don’t have to sleep with him to get into the show,” she pouted. “I promise you I didn’t sleep with him.”
“Um, okay. That’s not really—”
“I mean, okay. I have to be 100% honest. I did give him a hand job, but that’s not as bad as a blow job, and hey, it’s not fucking. Everyone gives hand jobs in this business. I’ll give you a hand job right now if you want. Oh Dylan, please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. Did you somehow find out? Is that why?”
“Lucretia,” I stared at her pityingly. “I don’t care if you gave him a hand job. I wouldn’t have cared if you’d given him a blow job or fucked him ten minutes before this date. I’m not interested. In fact, I actually have a lot of work to do.” I pulled out a couple of hundreds, and placed them on the table. “Order whatever you want. You have a good night, okay?”
“Wait, Dylan, where are you going?” Her jaw dropped.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but this is not going to work out.”
“You’re such an asshole! You’re such a jerk. I hate you!”
“Join the club, sweetheart.”
I walked out of the restaurant quickly, pulling my phone out as I did. Lucretia would get over it. She was beautiful. She was a hot commodity, like she’d said. She’d find another millionaire or billionaire to fuck very soon. She didn’t need me.
I quickly dialed Abby’s number and listened to it ringing. Where the hell are you, Ms. Waldron? I frowned as it went to voicemail.
“Hi, this is Abby. Not available right now. Please leave a number and name after the message. Beep.”
“Abby, this is your boss, Mr. McAllister. I’m not sure where you are right now, but we have work to do, so you need to call me back as soon as possible.” Click.
I saw my driver across the street looking at me and I shook my head. I needed to walk. I walked down the street, watching as the taxis drove by. There were so many tourists in the city. It was so annoying. They walked so slowly. I stared at my phone again. No call back. I called her number again, and this time it immediately went to voicemail.
“Abby, this is your boss, Mr. McAllister. I need you to call me back ASAP. We have work to do. Don’t forget how much I’m paying you.” I hung up, infuriated. Where was she? I should have given her a company phone. If I had, I might have been able to track her whereabouts and see where she was. I knew that was creepy as fuck, but I was going absolutely crazy. Who was she with?
I frowned, and then walked back to the car and over to my driver, Henry. “Henry?”
“Yes, Mr. McAllister. Where would you like to go, sir?”
“You know Ms. Waldron?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Do you happen to know where she is tonight?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you happen to know who her date is with?”
“No, sir.”
“Has she had any phone calls in the car when you’ve picked her up in the morning? Have you happened to hear any information?”
“No, sir.” He shook his head. “Sorry, sir.”
“No worries.”
“Would you like me to take you to her apartment, sir? Is it important?”
“It’s fine.” I shook my head. “It’s just fine.”
“Will you see her tomorrow, sir?”
“No, I won’t. I’ve got plans with my brother all day.”
“Oh, I forgot, sir,” he nodded.
“Yeah, he’s getting married, and I guess he wants an all-day bachelor party. I mean, who has a bachelor party during the week? I don’t know. But apparently, this is when most of his friends could come, and you know, he’s my brother. I love him. So I took the day off.”
“I’m sure he’ll be very grateful, sir.”
“He should be.” I sighed. I wanted to go to work. I wanted to interrogate Abby about her night and why she hadn’t been picking up the phone, but my brother was the person I loved most in the world and I would not disappoint him. I was going to be his best man. And even though I didn’t agree with him getting married, I was going to support him no matter what.
“Sir, is there anything I can do?” My driver asked.
“No.”
“Would you like me to take you home, sir?”
I looked at the night sky. I was about twenty blocks from my apartment. I hadn’t walked home in a while. Hadn’t needed to. I needed to clear my head. I needed fresh air. I needed exercise that wasn’t in the gym.
“You know what, Henry? It’s okay. You have the night off. I’m going to walk home.”
“Are you sure, sir?” Henry looked uncertain. I never gave him the night off.
“I’m sure. Go home. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
“But don’t you want me to—”
“You’re okay. You can take tomorrow off as well, Henry.”
“Wow. Thank you, sir. My kids will be so happy. Maybe I’ll take them to Coney Island.”
“Good job then. Good job,” I muttered.
“Sorry. What, sir?”
“Sorry, I was confused.” I realized that I wasn’t making sense. I opened my wallet and took out a couple of hundreds and handed them to him. “Here’s a bonus. Enjoy it. Treat the kids to some ice cream or something on me.”
“Oh no, sir. You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
He looked shocked as I stuffed the money into his hand and then walked away. “Have a great evening, Henry,” I said as I made my way back down the street.
I wasn’t sure who I was becoming. Why had I given him money? I paid him more than enough. And why was I walking home? Time was money, and money was the most important thing in my life. I grabbed my phone to see if Abby had called me back yet. Of course not. I tried calling her one more time. But when I got her voicemail again, I hung up. I sent her a text message. “Abby, this is Dylan McAllister. Something very important work-wise has come up, and you need to call me as soon as possible.” I hit send and continued walking.