“And if I decide to make my own party room and live life the way I’ve come to know it, will you be disappointed in me?” I ask as I’ve never seen my father like this before.
With a shake of his head, he says, “I will never be disappointed in you. Not ever. Live however you want to. But do it because you want to. Not because you think anything is expected of you.”
My mind is a mess. “You seemed proud of my male prowess.”
“I am proud of you no matter what, Cyprian. I always have and always will be.” He gets up and pats me on the back. “I’m going to take a nap. Do whatever it is you want to, son. Stay here, buy the house and move, whatever it is you want. I will always be proud of you.”
Watching my father leave the room, I get up to head to the office. I’ve always done what I thought was expected of me. I never once realized that nothing was expected of me.
Making my way to the waiting Mercedes my father’s driver is driving me to work in today, a dreaded Monday, I let the driver open the door for me and watch as he closes it, without a word said between us.
It’s odd, how lost I suddenly feel. It’s as if the rug has been pulled out from underneath my feet that I had been steadily treading upon for decades.
I can do whatever I want to?
I should feel great. Nothing is expected of me and anything I want to do, I can. Papa will still be proud of me and so will Mother. So, why do I feel so alone?
The car pulls out of the large horseshoe drive and onto the road. I find myself pulling out my cell phone and tapping a message to the real estate lady. I’m going to take the estate. I’m going to live alone out there and see what it is I want to do with my personal life.
Businesswise, that’s settled. I am to remain the CEO of Libertine Investments until I find another to groom to take over my place. Not a child of mine, obviously. Children are still off the table for me. I’d have no idea how to appropriately raise one of them.
With my own home, I could decide to keep women there overnight and into the next day, week, month, or year if I wanted to. And all this time, I thought my father would lose respect for me if I ever tried to keep a woman or women for more than one night.
I suppose I’m too literal of a person to understand everything. The little nuances that some people get, I just don’t. Maybe with this advanced thought process, I was born with, I lost the ability to read between the lines. Or even realize I didn’t have to follow my parents’ exact footsteps.
I feel free but completely petrified for some reason. My first step at finding out who I really am and what I really want is upon me. I’m about to buy my own place to live and see how I want to live.
Who really knows what will happen to me…
Chapter 6
CYPRIAN
Six months into living in my own place and I’ve yet to find the ‘me’ that I want to be. I love the ‘me’ I have been and think that’s the real me.
It’s Friday night and I have a young woman named, Cookie, sitting in my lap as my driver takes us back to my estate. I haven’t made a party room at my place yet as Papa’s is still fantastic so why give that one any competition?
Pulling up to the last convenience store at the edge of town before we leave it to go out into the country where I live, my driver goes inside to pick up the essentials I’ll need for the night’s activities.
“Oh, is he getting us some things for tonight?” she asks me as she plays with my hair.
“Yep. You got anything you’d like?” I ask her as I push back her brown hair.
“Whipped cream,” she says then runs her hand over the swell in the front of my pants. “I feel like a banana split if you get my drift.”
“I do and I’ll make sure you get some of that. I think some cherries would go well with that too,” I say as I pick her up and take her off my lap. Rolling down the window, I lean out. “Ashton, can you add whipped cream and try to find some cherries too. And I want the ribbed condoms this time.”
He nods and Cookie giggles as she climbs back onto my lap and plants a kiss on my lips. “Ribbed for her pleasure,” she says when she pulls her lips off mine and erupts into giggles again.
I laugh and pull her face back to mine to enjoy a bit more of her twisting tongue. A knock on the window has us pulling our mouths away from each other and we look to find Ashton waiting at the window. I roll it back down. “Yes, Ashton?”
“They’re out of ribbed. The cashier says there are none in the back and she said this Friday night you should try something new, like keeping it in your trousers, sir.” He chuckles. “She’s a spitfire, that girl. Anyway, do you have any other preferences or should I get what’s on the shelf?”
I find myself a bit pissed. “Who is this girl, cashier, who thinks she knows me?”
“Oh, just the same young lady who waits on me every Friday and Saturday night when I pick up your supplies. She’s a hoot. I always leave with a laugh and a smile when she waits on me. She means nothing by it. She’s a comical person. So, I’ll just pick up another kind. I’ll ask her if any of the ribbed will be in tomorrow,” he says then turns to walk back inside.
“Oh, Ashton,” Cookie calls out. “I’d love a fountain drink. Surprise me, will you?”
He nods and throws up a peace sign as he walks back through the glass doors. I find myself craning my neck to see if I can see this spitfire cashier he’s talking about. The glass along the side of the store where the checkout counter is located is too dark to see through.
“Cyprian, I really need to use the ladies room. How far is it to your place?” Cookie asks me as I’m still trying to catch a glimpse of the girl Ashton is talking to then he breaks into laughter.
I have every reason to believe it’s at my expense and a heat fills me. I move Cookie off my lap. “Go inside and use the ladies room in there. I need to go now too.”
As we get out of the car, I see Ashton cut his eyes at me and his smile vanishes. The man is around 50-years-old. When he calls someone young, it can mean they’re a couple of years younger than he is. But I am dying to know who this woman is.
She’s making fun of me, that’s for certain!
Ashton pushes the door open. “I’m done. She managed to find a package of ribbed in a return bin behind the counter. Come on, now.”
He seems nervous as hell for some reason. “She has to pee,” I tell him as we keep going toward the doors.
“Home is but a few minutes away. I wouldn’t recommend using these facilities, sir,” he says then he holds up the large fountain drink. “Look, miss, I have your drink here. It’s a Mr. Pibb.”
“Oh, yes! I love that,” Cookie gushes and turns back to accept the drink from him. “I can wait until we get to your place, Cyprian.”
“Great, get back in the car. I’ll only be a minute. I really have to go. I can’t wait,” I say then push the glass door open.
A little chirping bell rings, announcing my arrival. “Hello, welcome to Ty’s Quick Stop,” I hear a woman say but see no one.
“Hello,” I say and make my way to the back of the store to where I see the bathroom sign. Only, I’m looking down each aisle to see if I can get a look at the cashier Ashton was talking about.
I find a short woman, putting bags of candy on the shelf. She has on a green smock and looks at me with a toothy grin. “Hi there. Can I help you find something?”
I raise my eyebrows at her and chuckle. “No, I think I’m good.”
Making my way to the men’s room, I find myself chuckling as I go. I don’t know what got into me. I was so mad a moment ago about what the woman said but now that I see it’s just a little, older woman, with most likely no real life outside of this little store, I’m anything but mad.
Going into the bathroom, I find it smells clean and almost sparkles. The door across the little hallway squeals open and I hear a soft voice say, “Women are filthier than men, Gina. Did you know that?”
The woman’s voice is on the deeper side of the femal
e octave. It’s smooth and has the slightest French accent to it. It’s not like anything I’ve ever heard before.
“Camilla, I know you’ve only been a cashier for six months but I’ve been one for fifteen years. Of course, I know women are nastier than men when it comes to public restrooms. The things I’ve seen and smelled,” the women I recognize as the short older woman says.
The other one cuts her off as she says, “No, don’t tell me. My stomach is still lurching a bit with what I just had to clean up.” I hear her walk past my door and her footsteps keep going. “I wonder why moneybag’s car is still parked outside. I found the pervert the kind of rubbers he wanted.”
Pervert!
“I don’t know,” the other lady says as she has no idea it’s me, the moneybags pervert, in here.
“That man is a mess, I bet. Obviously, he’s wealthier than any human needs to be and the way he buys condoms is a crime. Who actually screws that much each night but only on Friday and Saturday nights? It’s ridiculous to need a new pack for each night. I bet he’s old and bald and has to pay for his women. That’s the only thing that makes any sense to me.”
“Most likely,” the other lady says. “He only started coming here just about the same time you started. His driver says he moved into an estate just outside of this side of town. I haven’t seen him at the grocery stores or anything. I’m sure he has servants to do that kind of thing.”
“An estate just outside of town. I bet he bought the old Franklin estate. I live right down the road from him then. In a little duplex, I rent, out that way. I might have to take a jog up the street one day and see if I can spot the fat bastard,” the one I now know is called Camilla says.
I think I’ve heard enough. Pushing open the men’s room door, I make my way to the soda machine. “Are your fountain drinks good?” I ask, without looking at either of the women.
“Our coffee is better. But I’d recommend a bottled water over either of those things,” I hear that smooth voice say.
I listen as her footsteps move behind the counter and I walk over to the cooler to take a bottle of water the little shit has told me about. “Thank you. You’re right, water is much better for the body. You a doctor or something?” I ask with a chuckle because no doctor would be working a crap job like this.
“A scientist, actually. I won’t get my doctorate for another two years but I will be one then,” she says.
I stop chuckling and open the door to the cooler and take a bottle of water and turn around slowly.
A scientist!
I can’t wait to lay my eyes on the woman who will be the first person I have ever called out on talking shit about me.
As I turn around, I see no one behind the counter. Then the little woman pops up in front of me. “Will that be all, Sir? Are you ready to check out?”
I look around her to find the other woman. “Not yet. I’m a little hungry but there’s nothing healthy jumping out at me. Perhaps the scientist has some suggestions for me.”
“Nuts are on aisle three at the front of it. There’s a package with a mixture of them that are about the healthiest thing you can get here,” I hear her but don’t see her.
So, I move on to aisle three and find the packages of nuts. There are six varieties. “Which ones do you recommend, doc?”
“The package on the row closest to the front. They have almonds and those are great for men. Women too, but especially for men,” I hear her say but still don’t see her.
“Are you going to school here?” I ask as I try to follow her voice.
“Clemson U, yes. I’m working here to make ends meet. And you, sir?” she asks.
I find her voice coming from the area of the counter and make my way to it. But when I get there, I still don’t see her. “I dabble in this and that. Where are you?”
A head with a tight black bun, with curls that have escaped, comes out from under the counter. “Under here. I had to add money to the vault and you have to climb under this thing to do it. It’s a real pain in the butt.”
Watching her climb out from under the counter and smooth her green smock that fits her curvy body extremely well, I see her eyes when she lifts her head up. Gorgeous, blue eyes, framed by lush dark lashes, find mine. Her rosy red lips curve into a smile, showing brilliant white teeth that look amazing in contrast to her creamy caramel skin. “Will that be all, sir?”
“Huh?” I ask as her beauty has rendered me speechless.
She looks at the water and package of nuts in my hands. “I can ring those up for you if you’re done shopping, sir.”
I place the things on the counter top and stammer, “Sure, uh, yeah, that’s going to do it.”
Two little beeps have my purchases done and she looks at me with that pretty smile again. “Three fifteen, sir.”
Handing her my credit card, I see her smile vanish. “Oh, sorry, sir.” She points at a small sign on the counter that says they don’t accept credit card payments for less than five dollars.
“Damn,” I say. “I never carry cash. I’ll put them back.”
Before I can turn away, her hand on my arm stops me. “I got this. You have a nice evening, sir. Drink all that water and eat all those nuts, and have a healthy evening, it’s on me.”
I look at her name tag and smile. “Thanks, Cami. I’ll repay the favor.”
“No need,” she says as she looks at her name tag. “Did you call me, Cami?”
“I did,” I say with a chuckle. “I’m afraid I have a habit of making up women’s names on my own. Sorry. That’s rude of me.”
“Think nothing of it. I think that’s kind of sweet. See you around then, sir. You come back and see us.” She turns to walk away to get back underneath the counter.
“Cyprian, not Sir,” I say then lean on the counter top. “You can call me, Cyprian.”
She stops her retreat and smiles at me again. “Cyprian? What a beautiful name.”
“Thanks,” I say and open the bottle of water. “What’re you doing when you get off work tonight, Cami?”
“Going home to study,” she says and looks a little nervous, suddenly. She fidgets a bit and I find that cute.
“Do you have to? I mean, I’d like to get to know you a little bit,” I say. The sound of the door opening and someone coming in, I barely notice as I look at her and can’t seem to take my eyes off her. “I bet your hair looks amazing when you let it out of that bun.”
A pink blush covers her cheeks then I hear a man’s voice coming from behind me. “Mr. Girard, I just realized you were making purchases. I forgot to tell you about their payment policy here,” my driver says and I watch Cami’s face go from pink to red.
“You’re him?” she asks as she steps back three full steps, as if I have leprosy or something terrible she might catch.
“Who?” I ask. I know damn well, who but I have to ask.
“The condom man?” she asks.
Now it’s me who’s blushing. My driver slaps a five-dollar bill on the counter. “There you, go, miss. We’ll be going now.”
The sound of someone coming in fills my ears and when I hear Cookie’s voice, I cringe, “Cyprian, are we going to get to your place and get the night going or what?”
Cookie is about as bimbo looking as they come. Nearly white hair with blue tips, she’s skinny and pale. Not a beauty in the light but she looks good in the dark, where I picked her up at my father’s party a little earlier.
Cami ducks her head and grins. Her amusement at my choice for the evening sends prickles through my skin. I take my water and nuts and leave the store in shame. “Come on, Cookie.”
A short burst of laughter I hear come from Cami, I am positive, as she hears the woman’s name.
I’m shaking with anger mixed with embarrassment, the addition of humiliation makes the emotional cocktail complete as I slam into the backseat of my car.
“That was brutal,” I mumble as Cookie tries to climb back onto my lap.
“What was?” she asks
then slurps her drink.
“Nothing, never mind,” I say and close my eyes as I lay my head back on the seat.
What she must think of me…
Chapter 7
CAMILLA
With a name and face to put to the perverted moneybags, as I had dubbed the man with what must be a nearly insatiable sex drive, I find I’ve thought all wrong about him.
“He wasn’t fat and bald at all, was he?” I ask Gina as I help her clean the shelves where the can goods go.
“No, he was not,” she agrees as she nods.
“He was actually very nice looking,” I add as I wipe the top of a can of green beans.
“Yes, he was,” she agrees again.
“Did you see how tall he was when he walked out the door? The tape on the door frame read six feet and three inches,” I say as I think about how he filled that door frame nearly completely. “He was all muscles too.”
“He had nice light brown hair, dark brown eyes too,” Gina adds as she hands me a clean rag. “Use this one, honey. That one’s merely pushing the dirt around.”
What about those high cheekbones?” I ask. “And that Roman nose? It was the most perfect nose I recall ever seeing in my life. And his lips. Man, were they something. The top lip was a bit fuller than the lower one was.”
“I suppose that’s why he needs those condoms every weekend,” Gina says, taking me out of the trance I was putting myself in as I thought about the man.
“Yeah, he’s a male-whore. I know, I know,” I say as I shake my head to clear it.
“He was flirting with you, Camilla. Do you suppose he was about to invite you to join him and that other woman?” she asks me with a grin. “And if he had?”
“Of course, not!” I shout and walk away as heat has suddenly invaded me. “You know I’m not that kind of woman. I know it’s rare at my age of twenty-five to have only been with three men but I have to have feelings for any man I have intimate relations with. My parents and grandparents would kick my butt if I did it any other way.”
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