Hearing that Louis never made it home last night was like another nail in my coffin. Why should Louis come back home when he didn't need to pretend to be a loving husband anymore? Now he could be the asshole he always promised he wouldn't be to me.
"Pam, I'm fine. Call my mom and tell her I'm fine. Tell Rose and Eric that I love them and will see them soon." With that I hung up the phone. I tried to avoid the clear blue eyes that were boring into me. I drew my eyes to his reluctantly. We'd only known each other for a few minutes but we were having a silent commiserating conversation with our eyes.
"Is it too early for tequila?" Will asked trying to make me smile. "The bar is not open, but I have the keys."
"I could use some vodka. That may possibly knock me out again, if I'm lucky," I said, hoping I could drink my heartbreak away. He got up and stretched out his hand for me. I accepted it and followed him.
****
I had never had so much to drink in my entire life. I don't think I left out one nuance of my life talking to Will that night. I can't recall everything I told him but I do remember something about us acknowledging that we both love the ‘80s and enjoy anal sex. Yeah, I was that drunk! My head had a special beat that didn't subside. When I finally forced my eyes open, I was in a beautiful room that I'd never seen before. The bed was so massive that I didn't notice I wasn't alone in it until five minutes later. Please God, don't let me have slept with whoever is in this bed with me, I thought desperately. I may have been soon to be divorced but I didn't want to be an adulterer like Louis. I lifted the covers to see that I was still in my panties but no bra.
"Emmalay, are you checking to see if you still have your knickers on?"
Fuck, that was Will's sexy British voice. I was in bed with William Knight. No fucking way. He continued talking, "I'm not a bloody arse. I wouldn't bang you after that bender yesterday."
Fuck my life. I lost a whole day with no recollection.
"Will, why are we in the same bed together?"
"You don't remember? You begged me not to leave you. Emmalay, you were really pissed. I didn't want you to be alone so I offered to stay and rest with you. I had a few shots myself; a gentleman doesn't let a lady drink alone or sleep alone. We were both shitfaced. You do remember giving me the concert of my life … right? The way you sang to me Only Time Will Tell by Asia was wicked. Then you stripped your clothes and got into bed. It was a brilliant night. Don't worry, we didn't shag." He looked up and got his head off the pillow. He was even more handsome than I remembered. "Not because I wasn't up for it," he said with a sexy-as-sin smile.
I fucking sang naked and drunk … to a perfect stranger in St. Lucia. Will's voice brought me back to my current crazy situation.
"You are the sexiest thing I've seen in a very long time. I just didn't want our first time to be when we're both zonked."
I was about to have another breakdown.
"Will, I'm not ready to jump into bed with anybody right now. My life is really fucked up. I don't want to complicate things further. Thank you for not taking advantage of me while I was piss drunk and thank you for calling me sexy. My ego is on life support right now so I'll take any words of encouragement—even if they're lies."
He was enjoying my discomfort. He lay sideways facing me with his head propped up in his right hand. I swallowed, which felt like rubbing sandpaper in my throat, then I continued my speech, "I came here to find myself, not to find another man. I obviously couldn't keep the attention of the man I love. I need to figure out what's wrong with me first."
He sat up on his side of the bed. He pulled the covers off and stood up. I think he wanted to give me a better view of what I was turning down. He was gloriously naked and very well hung. I was staring at his cock as if I'd never seen one. In my defense, I hadn't had sex with my husband for over three months. I must've forgotten what a big dick looked like. He was semi-hard and had the biggest balls I'd ever seen. His body was all muscle. Tan, lean, defined washboard abs. He had a tattoo over his left nipple. It was a word or maybe a name, I couldn't make it out. He reminded me of a younger version of Sawyer on my favorite TV show, Lost. He put his hands on his hips, enjoying me staring and taking him in.
"Not sure what's wrong with the bloke who's supposed to be your husband. But luv, if you were mine I wouldn't let you within bloody two feet of me and my cock."
I smiled. That was crude but very much appreciated by my wounded, almost extinct, ego. Will was good for me.
"If your Louis has half a brain he'll come find you before I pull every trick in the book to show you how a real man would treat a beautiful woman like you."
"I'm still in love with my husband. Even if he doesn't want me I can't just turn off my heart. He is my soul. I've never been with anyone but him. You deserve to be with a nice girl. I have two kids and too many issues. Do yourself a favor, Will, walk away from me. I'm not worth the lay."
"I'm giving the tosser two days. If he's not here in forty-eight hours I won't stop myself from taking you for myself."
"Will, he won't come. He has no idea where I am. I didn't use our chauffeur or any of our jets to get here. I paid cash and my phone is dead. I've never been to St. Lucia before. Louis would never think that I would come to a place like this. I'm as stranded as Brooke Shields was in The Blue Lagoon. But the most obvious reason he won't find me is that he doesn't want to. He doesn't want me anymore."
Knowing how true those last words were, I couldn't keep the fucking flood of tears from falling again. I don't even know how it's humanly possible to shed as many tears as I have in the last few days. Will walked over and sat on the edge of my side of the bed. He turned toward me and cupped my face with his warm hands. He wiped my tear stained cheeks with his thumbs.
"Emmalay, how could someone not want you? I've known you for five minutes and I want you more than anything. I give him forty-eight hours; after that fuck the bloody arse. I'll make sure you never have that look on your beautiful face again. I will teach him a fucking lesson on how to treat beautiful girls."
Chapter 40
The Russians are here...
Two days earlier in New York City
Louis
Sammy, keep the car up front. I don't think this meeting should take more than half an hour."
"No problem, Mr. Bruel, I'll be right here when you come out."
I can't believe I'm doing this shit. I haven't seen this cocksucker for ten years. He hears from our mutual business acquaintances that I'm in the hole and calls me. He fucking calls me as if ten years ago he didn't almost cost me my wife. If Em knew I even spoke to him she would be hurt. Now here I am, on my way to meet the fucker.
I never thought it would be this bad. I need to get Bruel Industries in the black again. God, I've taken a beating. How could I have trusted that wealth management business with so much of my hard earned money? It was a big deal for Jonathan Stein to agree to manage Bruel Industries' investments. It was just too good to be true. For years they were growing our money at inconceivable volumes, until six months ago when my world got turned upside down. Jonathan Stein was arrested and charged with securities fraud by the FBI. The fucker pleaded guilty to over twelve federal felonies, and admitted to turning his wealth management business into a massive Ponzi scheme that defrauded investors of billions of dollars. I fell for a Ponzi scheme! Well me, and thousands of his other investors. We were at least able to keep our name out of the news, but what a monumental fuck up. For years I managed my own money and then I just got lazy and greedy. I learned my lesson and lost over seventy percent of my net worth.
If Em only knew how close we are to losing our townhouse, she'd think I'm a total loser. My job is to provide for my family and I'm about to lose everything. If the deal Phillip is proposing checks out I can at least buy back from the bank our SoHo building, or as Em likes to call it, the treehouse, and The Blue Lagoon Villa in Turks. I promised Emily almost eleven years ago that I'd give her and our family the
world. What kind of man am I? I gave her gifts and now I'm forced to take them back.
I'm ashamed of who I've become. I don't deserve to be her husband. I haven't even been able to make love to her in months. I'm worthless. People only see me for my wealth; once I lose that, who could possibly see me as anything at all? Will Emily be able to forgive me for losing all our memories? The treehouse is our love pad. Every room in that building is her; the bedroom where I had my first taste of her; oh God, the roof where I ate her out for hours under the 4th of July fireworks; the pool where we made love countless times; the theater room where we made out like teenagers while watching Great Expectations. She told me we were having a baby while I had her spread out on the kitchen counter. God, how can I look her in the eyes and tell her I lost our first home? The place where I knew I would love her forever. I need this fucking deal Phillip comes up with like I need my heart to keep beating. I need to sell five of my dad's buildings.
Here we go; it's time to make a deal with the fucking devil. There he is with that smug look on his face. The last time I remember him he was spitting venom at my wife. Saying all that dirty crap that made her cry. The last time I saw him he tried to apologize by hijacking a private lunch meeting I had with Max. I listened to his bullshit about how he was just kidding. That we shouldn't fight over some girl, that once I worked her out of my system I'd want my old life. He just didn't get me. He didn't know me at all. Max was listening to this shit and didn't say one damn word to Phillip. I told them I loved Emily. I told them I planned to marry her and these bastards still had the gall to invite some 'hos to our private lunch. One of the sluts, at Phillip's request, got naked and started sucking him off right at the table. Max came behind her and started fucking her from behind. I got a glimpse at the man Emily saved me from being. No one even noticed when I got up and left. That was the end of our long fucked-up friendship.
I want Emily to be proud of me. I want to be the kind of man my dad was. He loved my mom and me until the day he died. I would be that kind of man. Thank God Emily and I found each other. I have a beautiful woman who's my whole world. All I need now is to be the man I promised her I'd be.
"Lou, man, look at you. Did I really not see your pretty face for ten years?"
You fucking douchebag, I think, I could've lived without seeing that smug face for at least another ten years. Why did I ever love this guy? Every memory I have of him involves something I could never share with anybody. I fucked so many women with him and in front of him. God, what an imbecile I was back then; too much money and no morals. After we do this deal I'm done with Phillip Dashell forever, so help me God.
"Phil, good to see you." Not, I think to myself as I shake his hand. "Where are we meeting your friend?"
"What … no small talk? Is the little lady still keeping you on a short leash?"
What was I thinking? He just came to fuck with me, the son of a bitch.
"Relax, Lou, man, I can see she let you keep your balls on today. I'll be a good boy, promise. I know you think I only care about pussy. But I'll have you know that when I heard from Ronny your company was headed towards bankruptcy I was working hard to find you capital. I will always be grateful to you, man. You helped me open my first club when no one even wanted to take a meeting with me. You are my brother whether we share pussy or not."
Talk is cheap, I think. Okay, motherfucker; time to show me the money.
"Phil, it's good to hear you have my back. Even though you disrespect the most important thing in my life to my face."
"Lou, stop bitching! Did you grow a fucking vagina instead of that massive cock I remember? I'll let you bitch slap me later. Now let's go make you some money."
We head toward the elevators at the Plaza lobby. Emily loves to bring Rose here to have tea on Sundays. I remember Emily and I spent a whole evening in one of the suites when we were still dating because we couldn't wait to go all the way downtown to be alone. Once I pull us out of this mess, I'll bring them all here to celebrate. Phil presses the PH button and off we go to the make it or break it deal of my life. We exit the elevator into an elegant suite.
The Plaza had undergone a big renovation. It was my company that was given exclusive rights to sell the residential condos eight years ago, and look at me now! I'm at the mercy of a fucking club rat and a Russian oligarch.
"Miss Alexandra Ivanov will be right out to meet you gentleman. Please have a seat; she'll just be a few more minutes," a man informs us.
Alexandra? Wasn't Phil telling me about a man?
"Phil, what's this? You said we're meeting a dude?"
"Don't worry, Boris' daughter makes lots of deals for him. If he's indisposed, she's the one you'd want. Trust me. You'll see, she's a fucking knockout with balls of steel."
A throat clears behind us. We both jump up like little students caught talking about their teacher.
"Thank you Phillipchik for revealing my secret. Now how will I get a good deal from this handsome man if he thinks I have balls?"
Wow, Phil wasn't kidding, she is stunning. Her thick Russian accent actually sounds sexy and not butch. Dark long hair, tall and young, I mean she looks to be about my wife's age. If what the papers write about her father is even only half true then they have more money than God. Fucking filthy rich. This Alexandra has an entourage of two bodyguards who put the guys at WWF wrestling to shame.
"Miss Ivanov, Louis Bruel. Pleasure to meet you," I say, stretching out my hand for a shake.
"You can call me Sasha. You, Mr. Bruel, don't need any introductions. Moy Papa has been romanticizing over some of your properties ever since I can remember."
She leaves me hanging and doesn't shake my hand. She's a wolf in sheep's clothes. This twat is trying to intimidate me. I've had girls like her for breakfast. I happen not to be the least bit sexually interested in this cunt. Any kind of mind fucking will be done on my end.
"Call me Louis. Mr. Bruel sounds old and too formal on your lips."
She lifts her green eyes to give me a sexy, maybe we should fuck look.
That's right bitch, let's see who will leave who hanging by the end of this negotiation.
Phil's voice filters in, saying, "Should I leave you two alone? I don't need to ask if you need a room because Sasha already has the whole floor." Sasha laughs at Phil's stupid comment.
That is not how I do business, fuckface. My family's future is depending on this deal. I don't need or want to touch this woman. I want to deserve to touch my wife.
"No, Phil, we won't need a room for what I have in mind."
"That's a shame," Sasha says and walks over to sit opposite me, pouting her red lips and very slowly crossing her long tan legs to give me a peep show.
If only she knew what I have waiting for me at home. The sight of my wife's tits alone could make me come. Well, I haven't been able to fuck Em with all this shit pounding in my head. My brain won't let my dick do its job with all the crap eating away at me.
"Okay, Sasha, let's get down to business. I know the properties you and your father are after. My deal will be easy with a short expiration date. For every building you want that I don't want to sell, you buy two properties that I do have on the market. I will only part with these properties on that condition. Take it or leave it." I'm about to bluff and hopefully not piss my future away. "I have been talking to my friends in China this morning. If you even try to negotiate a dollar off the proposed deal I'm offering you, I will take the deal from right under your nose and gift it to them."
Sasha seems to contemplate my offer. I hand her the written proposal that Eddie and his team had finished drafting last night.
"Louis, you need cash very badly, I know. But lucky for you, the banks don't own everything you have … yet." She gives me that I want to see you crawling and begging look. She smiles with her bright red lips extending almost to her ears. "I need a few minutes to talk to moy Papa. I promised him I'd call before I turned down any deal with you."
"Lou, are you crazy? They were only prepared for five buildings in Chelsea. Fuck, now you want them to buy fifteen. That's the most asinine move I've ever seen."
I don't even need to dignify that with an answer. I'd been making deals while this prick was still sucking his mother's tit. I know how much money I need to get my company on the road back to recovery. I took that amount and included in the bundle whatever was needed to make the deal sweeter.
Please God, I need help. I'm sweating my balls off. I keep picturing how I'll tell Em that the bank took away her house in Turks. If the Russians back off this deal it's game over for me. Bruel Industries will be sold off in pieces to our blood-sniffing competitors. The bank won't give us any more loans. No investor wants to touch us with a 100-foot pole. My choices are very slim. I would have to sell our townhouse to pay the creditors. Emily decorated every inch of that place. We brought our children from the hospital to that house; it's their home.
Whoever is looking down on me: Dad, Nana Rose, my grandparents … please, help me now. You were all good, no, amazing people; call in some favors for me. I already have the beautiful, healthy family thanks to all of you bringing me the love of my life. Now I need some luck. If Nana Rose were alive she'd say I need a bissle Mazel. This reminds me of waiting for my kids to be born. I knew what outcome I wanted; I just had zero control. All I can do is pray.
We wait for that Russian cunt for a good half hour. She comes out wearing a different outfit. Fucking bitch just trying to keep us sweating while she does an outfit change. Emily would love her dress. I can't remember the name of this stupid designer, but I know my wife has a least five dresses by him. I do very vividly remember how hard my dick got when Em came out of the closet wearing a tight cream-colored dress. I think it was Alaïa because the last thing she said before I tackled her back into her closet and then lowered her on the floor was, I can't believe I'm on my knees getting pounded in a fifteen thousand dollar Alaïa. That image puts a smile on my face. Okay, dickhead now is not the time to dream about Emily on all fours. This is show time. Freddy said it best: Show Must Go On.
Love In Rewind Page 25