“Preston?”
“If these media appearances weren’t for the charity,” I tell him, “I’d turn this car around right now.”
“It’s been eight years,” Freddie reasons. “Surely she’s moved on.”
“I hope so. I want nothing to do with her.”
“You never told me exactly what happened between you two.”
“Nothing major,” I say with a grunt. “But I’d still rather not see her. Let’s just hope you’re right. Let’s hope she’s found someone.”
Freddie remains silent, and I can imagine what he’s thinking.
When am I going to find somebody else?
But moving in with Lena taught me something. I can’t force myself to be the sort of man society tells me to be, find a woman, settle down, and start a family.
I want those things. Sometimes, I dream about having a full life and a happy family.
But I’ve never found the right woman. I’ve stopped looking honestly. No one makes me feel a damn thing.
It does wonders for my working life, meaning I can dedicate myself to my work, but I’ve accumulated a fortune. I’ve built something of an empire.
What’s it all for?
“You probably won’t even see her,” Freddie says. “You’re meeting with the CEO. You’re a big deal. There’s no reason for you to meet with one of their dozen managers.”
“Flattery, Freddie?” I say, trying for a laugh. “Is that what you’ve been reduced to?”
He chuckles. “I’ve got to try something, you grumpy motherfucker.”
We both laugh, sinking into the easy banter we shared in the locker rooms.
“This is a ceremonial meeting, right? Dotting the i’s and all that?”
“Yeah,” Freddie says. “You should be in and out in no more than thirty minutes.”
“All right. I’ll hold you to that.”
Freddie chuckles again. “And if you’re out in thirty-one minutes instead?”
I grin. “Then I’m going to fire your ass.”
We both know I’m joking, and soon we move on to other topics.
But there’s still that lingering worry at the back of my mind when I think about Lena causing a scene. It would be just like her to resort to melodrama.
The meeting goes smoothly, just like Freddie promised it would. My meeting is on the top floor of the building, in a large office overlooking the city. I’m going to be giving a series of talks, some of them televised, later this year.
Despite knowing that Lena is in the building somewhere – probably seething at my very presence – I leave the office with a smile on my face.
This meeting is going to result in more money for my charity, which in turn will make the lives of those suffering from traumatic brain injuries easier.
I walk down the hallway, to the elevator, almost whistling a tune. I feel like a jackass for being so grumpy about the whole thing earlier, but maybe that’s just who I am, deep down, a pessimistic man trying to do some good despite my moods.
Whatever. I don’t like spending all day looking inward, introspecting about all my motivations and desires.
I’m going to head down to the gym, and get a quick pre-session workout before I host the kids’ boxing class I give.
If I can’t have a family of my own – if no woman has ever ignited that unstoppable tsunami of hunger inside of me – at least I can help the younger generation grow in confidence, ability, and general wellbeing.
Working out, making my body ache to the point where it feels like it could crumble, is the only thing that keeps me sane. It’s hard to break the habit of exercising more than once a day, the way I did when I was a football player. I need the focus.
The elevator pauses and the doors slowly slide open. I find myself clenching my fists tightly, as I think about Lena striding in. The idea of some grand reality-TV-style confrontation with her makes me wish the elevator would just speed to the bottom floor.
I’ve never enjoyed that melodramatic crap.
But maybe I’m in the wrong. Lena called me emotionally distant, and I can’t exactly argue. Maybe I pushed her to her outbursts by not being the man she needed.
That’s the thing, though, the whole point.
I didn’t want to be the man she needed. I just felt like I should.
I never should’ve moved in with her in the first place but I was young and stupid.
My breath catches when the elevator doors open the rest of the way. Two women step in, but my gaze is immediately fixated on one.
I stare wide-eyed at her, my heart pounding, my palms suddenly sweaty. My cock gives a twinge and for a second I think I’m going to lose my mind, leap on her and grip those curvy hips, shoving her up against the wall, driving with my hips so she can feel how rock solid she’s making me.
She’s young, probably in her early twenties, with flushed cheeks and full kissable lips. Her hair is light brown with soft curls. Her trousers and her suit jacket are baggy, but she can’t conceal the delicious voluptuousness of her body, the way her hips curve outward, the mouthwatering roundness of her thick ass.