Cocktales

by The Cocky Collective

  Since my alarm was set for four minutes into the future, the loss of four fucking minutes of sleep shouldn’t make me angry. And yet, somehow knowing—even without looking—who was responsible for the loss of slumber sent kerosene through my veins.

  The last way I wanted to start my day was with a phone call from him.

  It wasn’t like he was interrupting his sleep. No, it was five hours later in London. Hell, he was probably eyeing his liquor cabinet and making lunch plans.

  “What do you want?” I said, after confirming my suspicions with the name that flashed on the screen. I didn’t even try to disguise my irritation as I stood with the phone at my ear, my morning wood quickly losing its rigid form. Despite the quelling erection, my cock was in full view. Whether alone or not, I never was one to sleep in...well, anything.

  “The day’s half over,” my father’s voice boomed. “I’d assumed my son would at least be awake.”

  “The day’s half over in London. I’m in New York. What do you want?”

  Oren Demetri was many things: irritating as hell, a pain in my ass, the CEO and founder of Demetri Enterprises, and also, unfortunately, my father.

  What he wasn’t was a waster of words.

  “Things are heating up in California. We need Senator Carroll on our side; we need to know we have the votes.”

  I shook my head as I paced, putting the proverbial pieces of his puzzle together. That was the way it was with Oren. No niceties, no casual discussion of life. None of that Andy Griffith father-and-son shit. He jumped to the point. “That isn’t news. We’re all gearing up for the Senate Finance Committee next fall.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ve recently had a couple of calls with Carroll.”

  “Think bigger, son. Calls aren’t enough. I’ll be in New York tomorrow, and then I’ll go on to California and deal with this myself. I thought that you might want to know.”

  My head spun. I’d been working this deal for over a year. I was the one who knew the ins and outs. Sure, I’d told my dad what he needed to know, but I didn’t want or need him coming in like the proverbial knight on the fucking white horse, thinking he was saving a deal that I’d already secured. His presence wouldn’t be as a knight; his going to California would be more like a bull in a fucking china shop, leaving nothing but destruction and devastation in his wake.

  When I failed to respond immediately, Oren went on. “This takes precedence over other matters and it seems as though if I want it done right—”

  I shook my head as I pushed through the raspy tone of my thwarted sleep and made my opinion of his plans known. “No.”

  “No?”

  “Yes. No. You’re not storming into Carroll’s office and browbeating him when we’re as close as we are. I have this covered.”

  “If you had it covered, you’d know that Senator Carroll won’t be in Sacramento at his office this week or in DC. He’ll be in San Diego.”

  “What fucking difference does that make?”

  “It makes a difference because he’s meeting with heads of some of the big tobacco companies down there. It’s a summit of sorts. It’s why Demetri Enterprises needs to move. We can’t allow them to get their sticky fingers involved. You’ve primed the pump. I’ll go make our position clear.”

  “No. Our position is clear. The position of Demetri Enterprises is clear.” Holding the phone with my right hand, I spun my gold band on my left. The smooth circle provided a small bit of comfort as I worked to contain the bubbling displeasure brought on by this five-fucking-o’clock-in-the-morning tirade.

  “It’s already settled,” Oren said.

  “What is settled?” I asked.

  “I’ll be in New York tomorrow, probably by the sound of things, before you even wake. And then I’ll head west. I have reservations in Del Mar.”

  “Del Mar? You’re not crashing the senator’s hotel? Why not find out what suite he’s in and book the room next door. I know, you could get one of those rooms with the connecting doors. That way you could advise him of our stand while he’s taking a shit.”

  “Lennox, that attitude is exactly why I need to be the one to do this.”

  “I’m assuming the reservations were made by the company?”

  “Yes.”

  “When do the reservations start in Del Mar?”

  “Tomorrow. Time’s on my side heading west.”

  I could think of fifty different reasons not to get on a company plane myself and fly to Del Mar, California, but they all paled in comparison to my desire to keep this deal on track—the track that I planned. It was working.

  The future in legalized marijuana was a whole new world—a recently discovered planet. The possibilities were limitless, and I wasn’t planning on Demetri coming in second to Big Tobacco or any other industry. I was the man for this job, not the old washed-up has-been bellowing on the other end of this call.

  “I won’t be here when you arrive in New York,” I said matter-of-factly.

  “I think you should pry yourself out of bed, and we should spend a few hours—”

  “I’ll be the one in Del Mar,” I interrupted. “I’ll take Deloris with me, she has family out there...” That wasn’t the only reason for her to accompany me. She was a magician when it came to learning information. By the time we arrived in Southern California, she’d have all the information on Senator Carroll’s summit and know exactly who and what we were up against. “...and take your reservations.” Before he could reply, I asked the question whose answer I was relatively confident of. “Presidential suite, I presume?”

  Like my father, I enjoyed the comforts that our hard work could provide. The Del Mar resort was one of my top ten places to stay when in So Cal for business. The isolation of the resort and the beauty of the view from the presidential suite were enough to entice me to change my schedule and take a few days to solidify Senator Carroll’s position and assure us the votes needed for the upcoming Senate committee.

  Besides, I would still be able to carry on my work from there. Minus meeting with people here in New York, much of what I did was done via computer and telephone. The presidential suite had a nice office with a view of the communal pool. When I took the time to watch, some of the guests could be downright entertaining.

  “Dad?” I asked again. “Presidential suite or were you planning on saving the company a few dollars and reserved a downgrade?”

  “I’m still coming to New York.”

  A smile crept over my lips. And I won’t be here. I wanted to say that. Instead, I went on with my plan. “Not necessary, Dad. I don’t know how long I’ll be in Del Mar.”

  “I booked the suite for a week. I wasn’t sure how long it would take.”

  My smile grew...until it faded.

  Was he giving in too easily?

  Or maybe it was that he was old and tired and traveling from London to San Diego was more than he wanted to do once he gave it some thought.

  “Then it’s settled,” I declared. “I’m going. You can stay in London and do whatever it is you do.”

  “Don’t screw this up, son. A cocky attitude isn’t what works best in business.”

  “Bye, Dad.”

  Disconnecting the call, I decided it was a good thing that I knew my own strengths because getting support or encouragement from my father was never going to be my go-to for confidence.

  I could do this. I could get this deal secured. I knew it. My father called it cocky. I called it confident. After all, I was the one who’d met with the senator in the past. I was the one who came up with the idea of getting Demetri Enterprises in on the ground floor of legalized cannabis.

  Shaking my head, I laughed as I realized my nakedness.

  Yeah, Dad, I am cocky.

  Even though my morning erection was no longer at full mast, putting on shorts, socks, and running shoes before hitting the treadmill was a good idea.

  First, I sent a quick text to Deloris Witt:

  “ARRANGE TRANSPOR
TATION. WE’RE HEADED TO DEL MAR TONIGHT. MY SUITE IS BOOKED BUT WILL NEED TONIGHT ADDED TO THE RESERVATION. BOOK ANOTHER SUITE FOR YOU. I’M SURE YOU’LL TAKE CARE OF EVERYTHING.”

  The last sentence was purposely ambiguous. There was more to my travel than securing a company plane and a hotel room. There would be people, people I rarely saw. Just knowing they were there was enough. I had other things to concern myself with. Deloris would take care of everything else.

  She replied immediately:

  “IT WILL BE DONE BEFORE YOU GET TO THE OFFICE.”

  A few minutes later, as I turned on the treadmill, my wrist buzzed with an incoming message.

  “PLANE WILL BE READY BY 3PM.”

  There were a few appointments to rearrange, but it was doable. I was headed to Del Mar.

  Three

  Alexandria

  I lifted my chin to the salty sea breeze, allowing my long auburn hair to float around my face as the Southern California sun warmed my cheeks. The large-brimmed hat in my grasp would soon save me from the dangers hidden within the warm rays.

  However, at that moment, I didn’t care.

  I was on vacation—a much-needed and well-earned vacation—with my best friend. Our future was full of change, but that was yet to come. This was now, and presently my eyes were closed as my skin absorbed the seductive warmth.

  “There are a couple of chairs,” Chelsea said excitedly as we made our way around the large pool.

  Taking in the scene, I was surprised by how many people were already poolside at this early hour. Following her lead, I moved toward the two available lounge chairs not far from the pool’s edge. “Perfect.”

  “Yes, we can see everything from here.” She nudged my side as we got closer. “And, boy, is there a lot to see.” Her eyebrows danced, peeking out from behind her sunglasses.

  “Chels, you go ahead and look. I’m enjoying my time with you and my Kindle. Do you have any idea how many books I’ve been dying to read? And there isn’t one textbook or required reading among them.” I patted my beach bag. “This baby is full.”

  “I didn’t know you could really fill a Kindle.”

  I pursed my lips as they quirked into a grin. “Not literally, babe.”

  Smoothing her beach towel over the chair, she giggled and lowered her voice. “None of that matters. Remember what you said yesterday?”

  As I stretched my legs out on my towel-covered chair, secured my floppy hat, and took in the beautiful scene around me, I thought about Chelsea’s question. I did remember what I’d said yesterday. Yesterday I’d declared that for this week I was no longer Alexandria. I was no longer Alex. For this one week, I would forget my past and not think about my future. For one week I would be Charli with an i and no last name.

  To facilitate that even further, I booked this week at the Del Mar Resort under Chelsea’s name. I’d secured the funds, and no one besides my attorneys knew where we were. It was a week to reinvent myself. A week to live as I’ve never lived before. A week to enjoy just me and my best friend.

  “What’s your name,” my friend asked.

  I grinned as I turned her way. “You know, we’ve been best friends for years. It seems we should be past the introduction phase.”

  Chelsea swung her legs my direction. “No, I mean it. Tell me your name.”

  Pulling my Kindle from my beach bag, I mumbled, “Charli.”

  “No way, girl. Louder.”

  “Charli.”

  “Louder,” she said, practically shouting the demand.

  “Stop it. People will stare.”

  “Let them stare. I don’t care. You don’t care about them. You’re Charli with an i.”

  I shook my head. “You’re one crazy-assed lady sometimes.”

  She nonchalantly hitched her shoulder. “That’s why you love me. I make life fun.”

  There was no questioning her statement. Chelsea not only made her own life fun, but she made life fun for everyone around her. She was nothing like the girls I’d known in Savannah. Meeting as roommates our first year at Stanford was the best thing that ever happened. No matter what life’s ups and downs entailed, she was there. She was the sister I never had. “I do love you.” Raising my voice, I proclaimed, “And I’m Charli.”

  “With an i.”

  “Yes, with an i.”

  “Hey,” Chelsea said, her gaze going to the handsome man in khaki shorts with a tray bearing frozen concoctions. The customary navy resort jacket was replaced with a collared shirt in the same color with the Del Mar emblem on the chest. No doubt, more comfortable to wear in the sunshine. “We should get drinks.”

  “We just had breakfast.”

  “And your point is...?”

  She raised her hand as he came our way.

  “Ladies, may I help you?”

  “Yes,” Chelsea said excitedly, “I think I’ll have a—”

  “A strawberry-mango slushy,” I interrupted. “No alcohol.”

  My friend turned my way. Even with her sunglasses, I could see the question in her expression.

  “Babe, you do what you want. I want to enjoy myself and remember it.”

  “Fine,” she said, turning back to the waiter. “I’ll have the same. But don’t go far. It won’t be our last order.”

  The man smiled politely as he took our room information and walked away.

  Time passed as the sun grew warmer, my slushy turned to liquid, and the large pool area became more crowded. With my mind on the story on my Kindle, I was lost in the words when Chelsea nudged my side.

  “Hey, you’re not listening.”

  “What?”

  “Do you see those two good-looking guys over there? They keep looking our direction.” When I started to turn, she said, “Don’t look.”

  “How can I see them if I don’t look?”

  “Okay, just a quick look.”

  I turned. As I did, it was hard if not impossible not to see. This resort was filled with fine specimens of male and female patrons. After all, the resort catered to the elite. Those people spent a lot of time and money making sure their outer selves were perfection. I knew too well that when it came to pretty people, that perfection didn’t always translate to their inner selves.

  In the direction that Chelsea had tilted her head were two men about our age staring directly at us. Everything inside me wanted to turn back to the story on my Kindle, and then I remembered my one-week mission. I lowered my sunglasses and returned their attention. The one with a surfer’s body and blond hair did the same. His closed-lip grin was cocky and confident.

  Before I could do more than smile, he and his friend were up and moving our direction. “Shit,” I said. “They’re coming our way.”

  “I said look, not invite him over.”

  It was too late.

  Four

  Lennox

  I paced back and forth in the office of the presidential suite. Deloris went above and beyond. The information she obtained was now on my computer. I knew who was attending Senator Carroll’s summit and most of the important information regarding their companies and bids. Hell, I even knew arbitrary information.

  It was my first full day in California, and I’d already arranged a meeting for later in the afternoon with the senator. I planned to feel things out in person before jumping to conclusions, before deciding on my course of action for the rest of the week.

  This was why I was better at this than my father. I wouldn’t barge into the senator’s plans; instead, I would make my presence known in a confident and assertive way, reminding him of the agreements we’d already made and the plans we had for the future finance committee.

  The reason for my pacing was that I had a couple of hours to kill before our meeting. The flight, lack of my own bed, and inability to exercise this morning had me feeling itchy and on edge, as if I were ready to jump out of my own skin. Of course, the resort had an exercise facility, but I rarely did communal activities. I preferred my own treadmill in my own apartment
with just me and the morning news getting me up to date on the foreign markets.

  Now that time had passed. I’d updated myself with coffee and my computer screen. It wasn’t enough. There was even the possibility that the coffee was adding to my jumpiness. To make matters worse, the resort was filling my private pool. I wasn’t sure why in the fuck they didn’t have it already filled. Deloris said it had something to do with extending the reservation. They weren’t expecting a Demetri here until today.

  The large pool through the window and stories below caught my attention. I needed to blow off steam. I could either try the exercise room or throw on some swim trunks and do a few laps. Even though most of the chairs seemed filled, the water was relatively empty. That was the way with places like this. The people were merely decorations, not living breathing beings. The exception was the hot tub. That was filled with laughing, talking people. I didn’t want the hot tub—I didn’t want people. I wanted to push myself. I could accomplish that with a series of laps, clear my mind, and prepare myself for my afternoon meeting.

  Leaving the office, I made my way to the suite’s balcony to check on the pool’s filling progress. Beyond the railings, the ocean glittered all the way to the horizon. The view from this suite was stunning at all times of day; however, I particularly loved the sunsets in Del Mar.

  I exhaled, finding the private pool still half empty. Maybe it was half full? I had too much shit on my mind to figure out what my initial perception said about my current mental well-being.

  “Deloris, I’m headed down to the pool to swim laps,” I said a few minutes later, as I passed through the living area wearing my trunks and flip-flops.

  “You’re going to the pool?” she asked. “The one with people?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m someone who is about to lose my shit. I’m anxious to see the senator and with the names and information you provided, I want to rush the meeting. Swimming will...it will...” I searched for the right word.