When Len finally let me go for a lunch break around 1pm, I only had a half hour. I mean, what the fuck? That was barely enough time to grab something to eat and be back in time for more godawful training. I seriously considered bailing and just not coming back.
But no. Not only did I need this job, I had to prove to Rosemary that I was responsible and could handle working for a living. What kind of pussy would I be if I couldn’t make it through one day? Besides, I was sure the job would get better once I started selling cars. I loved cars and I liked talking to people about them, so that would be fun.
I considered it a personal triumph that I forced myself to be back at Len’s at 1:30. Once I got back, though, I couldn’t believe there were still three and a half hours left of the workday to go.
How did people do this every day?
It was only after three full days of training that I was allowed to even talk to the customers, not that I sold anything. It was unreasonable to expect to be a hugely successful car salesman right away, but it was still kind of demoralizing. It really sucked, because I’d always thought of myself as a winner. Working here showed me I really had nothing to do with Affluent Accents Accessories being a successful business. I had people like Tony, Clara, and Rosemary to thank for that.
I had a sudden flash of memory from the day all my father’s property had been seized. Remembering Clara’s worried face as she looked at her fellow employees, I swallowed hard when I thought of the eviction notice on my door.
Good God, what had happened to all those people when the business shuttered with no warning?
I shoved the thought—and all the guilt that came with it—out of my mind.
*****
After three weeks of doing nothing but going to work and coming home to an empty apartment, I was thrilled when David texted me to meet him and Aaron at The Federal for a few drinks. It was early March, and the weather was finally getting a bit warmer. It would be good to get the fuck out of the house for a while. I hadn’t been out with my buddies since I lost all my money. They’d been avoiding me and I couldn’t blame them, what with all the bad press I’d been receiving lately. I swallowed my pride and told him I couldn’t afford it, so he told me drinks were on him.
It was good to hear from him, but it annoyed me when I remembered how much my friends loved hanging out with me before. They all came from obscenely wealthy families, but none them were both rich and famous. I was the Johnny Creel, playboy son of Walter Creel, billionaire tycoon. Aaron and David knew if they hung out with me, they might end up in the gossip columns alongside me. When I was down and out, they’d completely disappeared.
“Hey, hey, look who’s here!” Aaron called out when I walked into the bar.
Heads turned to look at me and people stared and whispered to each other. I hadn’t realized how much I missed all the attention I used to get. Oddly, I rather enjoyed it, even though I was sure they were talking about my misfortune.
In less than a minute I had a beer in my hand and a prime seat at the bar, despite the crowd gathered there on this busy Saturday night.
“Oh God, that’s good,” I said as I sipped my fresh draft Guinness. “So much better than the cheap American piss-water I’ve been drinking lately.”
I figured I might as well mention my troubles straight out and get it over with. It was hardly a secret, so I might as well own it. David chuckled as he sipped his scotch.
“Hey!” Aaron yelled, but not to me. “I said hey!” Aaron snapped his fingers at the hapless bartender, who hurried over to get him another beer. It was the usual bartender, but I didn’t know his name. Really looking at him for the first time, I could see he was overwhelmed with trying to keep up. I felt bad for him, now that I knew what it was like to have to deal with customers all day. Not only that, it was easy to imagine Rosemary behind the bar, rushing around and trying to keep everyone happy. God knows that’s what she always did when she worked for me. If I ever saw anybody snap their fingers in her face like Aaron had just done, I’d punch him square in the jaw.
“So how ya been?” Aaron asked, scoping out the women at the bar instead of looking at me. He never had trouble getting laid, and right now he was checking out the scene, knowing he had his pick of women.
“Okay, you know. Layin’ low,” I said.
“What ya been up to?” Aaron asked curiously, almost suspiciously.
“Just hangin’ around, bored shitless. Can’t afford to do anything.” I didn’t intend to tell them I was a sorry-assed used-car salesman. It was only a matter of time before the paparazzi figured out where I was working, but I planned to keep it on the down low for as long as possible.
“Sounds rough. Next thing you know, you’ll be shopping at Walmart and eating value meals from McDonald’s,” Aaron said with a grimace. He was a total snob who thoroughly enjoyed looking down on people.
“I know, right? Pathetic,” I said. Okay, maybe I sounded like a snob, too. But I couldn’t help it. At the same time I felt like I had to keep up appearances around my friends, I felt bad about mocking poor people. I knew for a fact that Rosemary shopped at Walmart, because she had written down her phone number on a receipt from the store. So what? It was probably all she could afford.
“So how long’s it been since you got some pussy there, Johnny?” Aaron asked with a knowing smile.
“Too long, man. Too long,” I admitted. I lowered my voice and said, “It’s been weeks since I fucked anything besides my own hand.”
David and Aaron had a terrific laugh over that, as I knew they would. It felt good to vent to them. I hadn’t really spoken to any of my friends since this nightmare started. Worse, it had been a few weeks since I’d gotten an email from Rosemary. I knew I had to save up some money and get my act together before I could even try to pursue her, but I missed her like crazy. Just thinking about her hurt like hell. I wanted nothing more than to bang the shit out of some girl tonight, to try to forget my longing for Rosemary for a little while.
On the other hand, if I did get lucky tonight, I could imagine I was with Rosemary. That was bound to be better than just jerking off while thinking of her.
“I understand, Johnny,” David said. “Don’t you worry. I’ll cover you tonight.”
“David,” I said, putting my hand on his arm. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me. But you’re just not my type!”
David laughed heartily, then shoved my hand off his arm. “In your dreams.” He glanced around at the bar. “Which one do you want? I’ll book you a room here so you can get your rocks off before your balls turn into little blue marbles.”
“Sweet,” I said, surveying the room. I caught sight of the girl with dark brown hair and a rockin’ bod who I’d fucked before.
David followed my gaze and said, “Christina. Excellent choice.”
I nodded. She would be a good choice and now, thanks to David, I knew her name. All the women here knew I was broke, but the ones I’d been with before knew how well I could pleasure them in bed. I used to worry that some of these girls only screamed out my name and told me how great I was so I’d spend more money on them. Then, one day I overheard a girl say to her friends, “If you need a good fuck, Johnny Creel is your man. He’s got a huge dick and he knows what to do with it.”
That was the proudest moment of my entire life.
“Yeah. Christina would be perfect.”
“Done,” David said. And he made it happen. I put all our drinks on his tab without telling Christina he was paying. Ditto for the room. She didn’t ask any questions about my money situation, and I didn’t offer any explanations.
I took Christina up to one of the fancy rooms in the five-star Federal Hotel. It felt good to be in a clean room; my penthouse had become a total pig sty since I had to let Mindy go. Everything looked and smelled fresh and clean. The bed was neatly made, and I could not wait to mess it up.
Christina set her purse on the mahogany desk, then she lay down on the bed. The great thing abou
t picking up girls at The Federal was that there was absolutely no pretense. They wanted free drinks and either a fancy hotel or a penthouse for the night, and they wanted a good, hard fuck. She smiled at me seductively, and my cock felt like it was about to explode. I had a lot of pent-up sexual frustration, and I hoped I would last long enough to satisfy her. My reputation as a playboy was already in jeopardy due to my financial situation. The last thing I needed was to be known as a two-pump chump.
I kicked the door shut and charged over to the bed, determined to make this a night to remember for Christina. I straddled her on the bed and kissed her while she unbuttoned my shirt.
“Mmmm,” she moaned as she ran her hands over my naked chest. I hadn’t worked out in a while, but I hadn’t lost my muscle tone yet, thank God.
Christina unbuckled my pants, and I climbed off her so I could slide off my jeans and underwear. It wasn’t long before I was naked and she was only wearing her panties and her high-heeled stilettos. She reached down to take off her shoes, but I stopped her.
“No, baby. Leave those on.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot you had a thing for fucking me in my stilettos,” she said with a giggle.
I slid her panties off, so she was completely naked save for those aptly named fuck-me pumps. I grabbed her ankles, spread her legs wide open, and rammed into her. She let out a loud cry of passion that was nearly a scream. I loved that sound. I’d missed that sound.
I was so horny, it was like pleasure overload. “Oh, God, baby,” I moaned, refusing to use her name. With my eyes closed, it was easy to imagine I was in bed with Rosemary.
“Oh, Johnny…Oh God, you’re so hard,” she cried. It felt good to finally be inside a woman again, and this was just the ego boost I needed. Pounding her hard made me feel like a man again. I slammed into her harder and faster, knowing I couldn’t keep this up for long before I totally lost it. Fortunately, I knew what to do to slow myself down but drive Christina wild at the same time.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you, baby,” I purred in her ear, knowing damned well what she wanted.
“Lick my pussy, Johnny,” she moaned. “I need you so bad, baby.”
I rammed my cock in and out of her a few more times for good measure, then I slid down between her slender, luscious legs. My own need for release was almost painful, but I knew I had to get her off first. I teased the outside of her entrance for a while, knowing the longer I tormented her, the louder she would scream once I finally reached her clit. When I finally started stroking her sweet spot with my tongue, she lost her mind.
“Johnny!” she shrieked. I hoped the whole floor could hear and know that Johnny Creel was back in action. Christina moaned and writhed on the bed as I swirled my tongue around that most sensitive spot.
I finished Christina off, imagining I was pleasuring Rosemary. “Johnny … oh God … Johnny … Johnny …” She threw back her head and arched her back as her orgasm claimed her. It felt good to hear her scream my name, but part of me wished she would shut up, because hearing her voice made it harder to imagine that I was with Rosemary. I gave her a few moments of panting to recover before I grabbed her to finally take what I wanted. I barely heard her words of praise. All I could think about was getting back inside her and closing my eyes so I could fantasize about another woman.
I picked Christina up in my arms and carried her over to the mahogany desk, and I positioned myself behind her. My pride swelled when I saw how hard she was gripping the desk already, preparing herself. She knew how big I was and how hard I liked to thrust.
I rammed my cock into her and closed my eyes. “Oh, God, baby, that feels so good.”
Whatever you do, don’t say Rosemary out loud.
My whole body was electrified with thoughts of that red-haired goddess. I imagined she was the one gripping the desk as I fucked her hard. Johnny, oh Johnny she would cry out. “Oh God, that’s good baby … so good … your body is so perfect.” I thrust into her over and over again until I came with such force that I actually had to bite my lip to keep from yelling Rosemary!
After I recovered from my intense orgasm, Christina and I went at it for the rest of the night. I made her come two more times, so I was confident that my sexual reputation was intact. Better than intact, as I’d found stamina I never knew I had because I was so hot for Rosemary. Christina would take the credit, though. As long as she told all her friends that the Johnny Creel had banged her all night long, it was all good.
The sun was coming up by the time we finally exhausted ourselves, and Christina was ready to get out of there.
“So, ya gonna give me a couple bucks for a cab or whatever?” Christina asked. “Whatever” was code for “limo.” I rarely sent my dates home in a cab.
I froze where I lay. Shame welled up in me as I realized I had no money whatsoever to give her. David had paid for the room, but I had forgotten to bum some cash off him to pay Christina for—to give Christina money to get home.
“Ah, well, the thing is I’m a little short on cash at the moment,” I forced myself to meet her eye.
Christina laughed, but not in a friendly way. It was a cruel, derisive sound, and she shook her head and glared at me with disgust. She looked like a different woman than the one who, mere hours earlier, was pleading with me to fuck her harder.
“You’re lucky you’re good in bed. See ya ‘round, Johnny,” she said dismissively as she sailed out the door. It was a far cry from the way she used to kiss my ass when I was rich. I was pretty sure she was trying to land me as a husband a few months ago, so she could be Mrs. Johnny Billionaire.
I lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling. I tried to remember the way Christina made me feel while we fucked, like I was strong, masculine, powerful, but try as I might, I couldn’t recapture that feeling. Now I just felt small and insignificant. I pictured Christina’s snooty face, looking revolted by me because I had no money. I remembered the way Aaron had snapped his fingers in the bartender’s face. I was sure Aaron made that guy feel small and insignificant, too.
I felt like absolute shit. I was embarrassed by the way Christina had treated me on her way out the door, and I was filled with remorse, knowing I had dismissed countless others the same way.
I heaved myself off the bed and put my clothes back on. I shook my head, laughing ruefully to myself when I realized I only had enough money to get home on the Metro because Rosemary had loaded my card for me.
As I made my way down the hall, I made eye contact with one of the housekeepers. She looked surprised at first, but then smiled.
“Good morning, sir,” she said softly.
Oh, Christ, don’t call me “sir.” Who the fuck am I? I’m a nobody.
“Good morning. Have a good day,” I said as I walked by her.
“You, too,” she said with a warm smile.
I let out a sigh as I headed toward the elevators. I wished like hell I could give that lady a nice tip for cleaning up my room. A hundred bucks would have been nothing to me just a few months ago, but it would have meant everything to a hardworking person like that maid. Or that bartender.
Or Rosemary.
I had thought fucking another woman might help me forget Rosemary, but it just made me want her more. I missed her so much that my chest ached. I wondered if she ever thought about me. I had the sinking feeling that she may have forgotten all about me by now.
Chapter 12
It finally happened. I lost my penthouse apartment.
The landlord of the building was pretty nice about it. He probably figured he’d do business with Walter Creel in the future and didn’t want to burn any bridges. Still, business was business. No money, no penthouse.
The day I moved into a shithole one-bedroom apartment was the worst day of my life. I had never felt more depressed or more lonely than when I looked around at the ugly walls, tiny kitchen, and dirty bathroom. I was forced to ask my buddies for help with the move. Naturally, none of them would lower themselves to perform
manual labor, but David paid for movers. It was funny how my friends would spend hours every day pumping iron at the gym, but when it came to doing work that required those muscles, they couldn’t be bothered. It was just as well. It would have been horrible to have any of my friends see my place. It was a disgusting dump of an apartment, situated in a questionable D.C. neighborhood.
I worried that Rosemary might be living in a neighborhood like this. I shuddered to think of how she had to walk to the Metro from the office when she worked for me, and she’d had to walk God knows how far by herself to get home. I would have given anything to live closer to her and be around to protect her.
Only a fraction of my furniture had fit into the place; the rest I’d had to leave behind. I could have sold it, but I hadn’t had the energy to bother with eBay or Craigslist. Besides, it would have been too depressing.
Thinking about my penthouse made me sad. It wasn’t just the luxury I missed, though that was a big part of it. But the place had been mine for five years. How awful would it be for an entire family to lose their home? For moms and dads to have to pull their kids out of their childhood rooms. It was upsetting enough as an adult. I couldn’t begin to imagine how scary it would be for little kids.
And it had happened to Rosemary as a little girl. My throat tightened when I pictured her at eleven years old, coming home from school and seeing all her family’s belongings tossed out in the rain.
Was this really how my dad made his fortune?
I knew my dad had other businesses—other investments—but being a big-shot bank lawyer was the main reason he was a billionaire. Or had been a billionaire, anyway.
After my weekend move, it was the first Monday that I’d had to come home to this apartment after work. I microwaved my sorry-assed frozen dinner and ate it in front of the television. The fifty-five-inch plasma TV looked ridiculously huge in this tiny living room, but it was the smallest one I had owned in my old place. I had to leave the seventy-five-inch TV behind. I didn’t even want to think about it.
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