“Mom, you know I hate these things, why do you continually insist on throwing out the invitations?” I held back my sigh of exasperation so as not to hurt her feelings. Something I do only for her.
A grown man I may be, but with a mother like mine you never forget, because she constantly reminds you just who gave birth to you and how long it took; in agonizing detail no less.
In this way you never forget yourself and cross the line. Never for one moment misplace your loyalty by forgetting who gave you life. I’m fine with that, but these invitations are pass trying.
It’s like consciously making the choice to put your neck in a noose. Or walking into a viper’s nest, knowing that there’s no way not to get bitten. Something I avoid at all cause, being in a closed room with my peers for hours of unending drudgery.
Her heart is in the right place but you’d think after all these years she’d know her son better by now. Or at a minimum pay attention to his likes and dislikes. Now I’m the one being obtuse, that’s not mom’s way.
“Come on son it’s for a wonderful cause and your father and I can’t make it. Someone needs to be there to represent the family.” And here comes the sell, with just a little bit of guilt mixed in to seal the deal.
I held the bridge of my nose between my fingers to stem the flow of the headache I felt coming on. She’s the only woman in the world that can make me jump through hoops and she’s been doing it all my life so she’s very good at it. Damn near perfected the art I’d say.
She has no respect for my time or whatever I may have going on at the moment. She just expects her baby boy to drop everything and cater to her every whim. And because I love her immensely I always do.
“Fine, but this is the last one you old tyrant.”
“Bless you son, you’re always such a good boy.”
“Uh huh, as long as you get your way.” I sent her a kiss over the phone to let her know there were no hard feelings even though the last thing I wanted to do is what she was asking of me.
“I have to run now your father is making a racket outside with the car. I love you my boy, now don’t forget to bid on something good.”
“Will do, I will speak with you over the weekend.”
I hung up the phone and walked over to the bank of windows in the penthouse suite. It had been one of those trying days where everything that could possibly go wrong did. And that includes the phone call that just ended.
As head of my family’s brokerage firm in the midst of the worst recession anyone had seen in over fifty years it hasn’t been easy for the past year or so.
I’ve had to forsake everything else, except food and sleep to take care of things, with very little time for social obligations. In short, it’s been some time since I’ve been laid, or even felt the need.
Who has time for that when your livelihood and that of the thousands of people working for you are at stake? Well not so much mine, the market can crash six ways from Sunday and I’ll still have the same amount of zeros following the first number in my account, but my people may not all be that lucky.
So I’d benched my own wants and needs for the last little while to concentrate all my energy where it was needed. On saving the company that has been in my family for generations.
Thankfully we’ve been able to keep our heads above water while so many others around us were drowning. Still, I had to work that much harder to see that we not only survived but that we stayed on top.
There were a hell of a lot of people trying to topple us over. Most of them thought that after dad retired it would be easy pickings. They didn’t count on me having the expertise of my father and the wherewithal of a grandfather who had taught me everything I know.
I’ve wanted this company since I was old enough to know that it would one day be mine. I’ve worked my whole life to get here and now that I’m the one holding the reins there is no way I’m going to fail.
My age has been a deterrent and a blessing in disguise. I’d taken over right out of college, a little more than ten years ago. Back then, many thought I was too young to do business with, and some thought that because of my young age I would be easily taken advantage of. They had no idea who they were dealing with.
If they’d done their homework they would’ve known that I spent all my holidays away from school interning here. I know every level of this business from the lowest to the top. Where I now sit.
And now that I’ve finally made people stand up and take notice, now that I’ve gained the respect in the business world for not only keeping the brokerage alive, but because of the success of the other businesses I’d started on my own, I can’t relax my hold.
I’m all about the bottom line. I have no time for parties and socializing unless it’s a business dinner. But every once in a while mom gets a wild hair and accepts an invitation in my name.
Tomorrow night’s little soiree was a charity benefit for the children’s hospital of which she sat on the committee. I guess I could show my face for an hour at least and bid on some obscure painting to make her happy.
I went back to the work I’d brought home with me and forgot all about the show she’d wrangled me into attending the following evening.
By the next morning I’d all but forgotten about the event, but of course she had my secretary remind me just after lunch, which I’d missed like I have so many others in the last month and a half.
I mowed my way through most of the work on my desk because I was looking forward to the long holiday weekend. I didn’t have anything planned per se, just maybe a TV marathon or something equally mundane.
I needed to unwind and I knew if I even stepped foot outside my luxury apartment on the Upper West Side I'd get no peace. The damn reporters have taken to staking out my building since I made top five on the richest men in the world list.
I’m not sure what the hell they expect to get out of it, other than forcing me to move from the place I’ve had since my first year of college. It had been mom and dad’s High School graduation gift.
A thirty million dollar luxury apartment in the heart of the world’s business center. I’d grown accustomed to the place that was only a stone’s throw away from my offices, and would’ve happily spent another twenty years or more there. But now all that must change.
By knockoff time I had made a decent dent in what needed to be done. Dad would probably get after me again for micromanaging everything myself, but it’s the only way I know to do business.
I headed home in the limo even though I’d have loved to walk the few blocks it would take to get me home, but my underground garage was made for times just like this.
At least they never knew when I was coming or going. No one knew my license plate number, and the tinted windows kept them all from seeing in. If anyone was to find this information, I’d know who to blame. Only one other person is aware of it.
I was tempted, very tempted to call the evening off. I really wasn’t in the mood to socialize and haven’t been since my last unsatisfying fling came to a premature end. As they all inevitably do lately.
I don’t know why that is. They always start out well enough. Even though I know they won’t go anywhere I at least expect them to be fun while they last. And I make damn sure any woman I take to my bed is having a good time.
But lately, nothing has been working for me. It’s like I’ve hit a wall sexually or emotionally, I’m not sure which. I’m never emotionally invested in sex though, so that can’t be it.
It’s only here lately, after I’ve been working so hard, that I realized I no longer fancy the same kind of woman I did when I was away at university and well…up until now.
I used to love the long thin model type. Women who didn’t know anything about the business world and had no interest in learning. Not that they were dumb, far from it, but their interest was always geared more towards the arts than finances.
The only finances they were interested in were mine and how much of it I was willing to spend on them. But lately I’ve been feeling empty. Sex had lost its appeal and that’s something that makes no sense for a man like me.
I love sex, the more the better. But now I can’t even seem to get it up no matter how hot the dish. In fact, not only am I no longer physically attracted to my type, but I have no idea what my new flavor is. Not the slightest clue.
So, with that thought in mind, I wasn’t expecting anything to come of the evening. I’m sure there will be models there, maybe some I’ve already bedded, and some new fare that I had yet to try. All of the same ilk, with very little difference. But where that once would’ve been a draw, it just left me feeling cold.
“You want me to park out front boss, for the next fifteen minutes at least?” I checked my watch and gave in to the inevitable. If I spend less than an hour here mom is bound to hear of it, and my life will not be fit to live.
“No thanks Reginald, I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave.” I stepped out of the door he held open for me and fixed my suit jacket back into place before heading towards the open door of the luxury hotel where the event was being held.
I was already bored and I hadn’t even reached the ballroom where the auction and show was about to get started. Never a very promising precursor to anything. I hate boredom more than I hate almost anything else.