about an hour ago.”
Emma lets out a small laugh, but it only lasts a few moments before Nikki walks in, followed by Tate and Becky. Emma walks around to the other side of the table directly opposite Tate, who looks somewhat hurt at her distance. Am I missing something here? I thought they were just secret work fuck buddies.
Note to self—interrogate Emma tonight at spin class.
Nikki begins the meeting, and like nothing has changed, I sit back with a big smile on my face, taking down the minutes, enjoying this moment before anything else decides to change.
The rest of the week is pretty much the same, except for Tuesday night. I’m well aware that Charlie is distracted and tries to seek comfort in others, and when I say ‘others,’ I mean I screwed my ex again.
Okay, yes, what the fuck was I thinking?
I mean, I caught him blowing another guy, and let me tell you, I have no idea what he saw in him. He has a dad bod—isn’t cut up at all. In fact, I may have seen a hint of man boob. Nevertheless, it still was a blow to my ego, excuse the pun. As soon as he shot all over me, I knew I had made a massive mistake.
So, to get over a bad mistake laced with complete regret, I blow Miguel, this gorgeous waiter I’d been eyeing for a while at Tapas on Tenth. Now, when I say gorgeous, I’m talking Henry-Cavill-spank- you-in-the-face-with-his-cock gorgeous.
But there’s one problem. It’s huge, and I don’t mean his cock. That’s huge, of course, like he puts donkeys to shame, but this one problem is, well, let’s just say not appetizing. Normally, I’d be straight on the phone to Charlie dissecting this particular situation, but tonight, Lex is taking her out to dinner, and well, I don’t think he will appreciate me calling up Charlie to discuss my epic blow job fail.
Again, change is definitely not my friend.
So, the week from hell sees me hitting up social media more. Same old desperados trying to grab any sort of attention they can. I find myself tweeting a few hotties. One, in particular, is this guy ‘The Bone Ranger.’ He’s funny, his profile pic is of this cowboy hat. Ding, ding, ding. I’m picturing this guy wearing only chaps sitting naked on a horse. He’s into role play. It’s just fun, right? Until he sends me a direct message, and we get to chat more. He’s into the same stuff I like, is a giver, and so I find myself obsessively messaging him every spare moment I have.
I’m yet to get sight of the goods, but let’s face it, I’m shallow.
This will be a deal-breaker.
***
“Good evening, Master Kennedy.”
Seeking solace in the familiar, I decide to visit my mother. Entering the building, I greet Gerard, the doorman, and make my way to the elevator. As soon as I exit, Malcolm, my parents’ butler, greets me at the door. I love Malcolm like a grandfather, but honestly, the whole ‘Master’ thing should be kept in the bedroom alongside a crop and ball gag.
“Hey, Malcolm, Mom and Dad home?”
“I believe your father is at a board meeting, your mother is in the den, and your brother is also accompanying her.”
Great, my brother is here. Insert sarcasm times a million. I walk to the den to find my mother and brother discussing an article about religious changes in the Middle East.
Boring with a capital B.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Eric! What a lovely surprise.” She stands and walks over to me. In familiar fashion, she hugs me tight, her signature scent of Chanel No. 5 lingering in the air.
“Hi, Dom.” I wave.
“Hello, Eric. It’s been a while,” he answers stiffly.
Okay, so this is the thing about my brother. He’s from another planet, like seriously. He is eight years older than me, a computer geek, I mean like he wins awards in excellence and shit like that. He isn’t gay, although I can’t confirm that because I’ve never seen him with a girl. He is quiet, lives alone in his apartment in SOHO, and well, much to my mother’s disappointment, we have nothing in common and don’t get along.
He dresses well, actually really well for a straight guy. Occasionally, I ask him where he gets a certain sweater vest, but he always answers in one-syllable words annoying the fuck out of me. He is tall, like way taller than me. From what I can see, he works out some, but he’s always