The Unconventional Mistress

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.