by Jamie Knight
In his last act of cowardice, my dad had hung himself. I had always wondered how I was never looked for by the police, even after I was caught stealing that wallet and saved by Jon.
My entire crew was distraught over Jimmy’s death, and we knew the cops were coming for us. The sirens were in the distance, and I knew someone had to take the fall for that murder. I just hoped that it wasn’t me.
I ran again, but not far. I remember being knocked out with a huge plank and waking up in a different side of the country with a nasty bruise at the back of my head.
Jonathan Moore.
It’s the name of the man that stood at length, surveying the California land before him as I woke up from being hit in the head; a name that I would soon hold in the highest of esteems later in my life.
He promised me that it was all taken care of. That the killer of my best buddy Jimmy had been caught, and that my crew members were paid off for their silence.
“Don’t worry, you’re in safe hands,” I recall him reassuring me.
“But why would you help me?” I snapped at him, feeling a nasty headache cropping up.
“My, oh my. We will need to work on that temper of yours, young master. In due time, all of your questions will be answered, but for now, I believe we are not in the best of scenarios,” he drawled, with his superior southern accent.
He walked me out of that field like a father, and I had my suspicions. This man had supposedly “taken care of things”, but I did not trust him. How ironic that he would become my best friend and mentor in the years to come.
It turned out, rather surprisingly, that my mother was the last heir to an old estate down in the south. She had not known, as she was raised in an orphanage and had died before her living relatives found her. But Jon was able to locate them while taking care of her estate, and that’s when we found out how fortunate she – and now I – really had been, when it came to finances.
Jonathan was entrusted with the duty of care towards my family, as someone in my lineage had saved someone in his lineage and all that honor crap that is so entwined in history.
Bygones being bygones, he put me through college. He always pointed out that “a man with no knowledge is as dead as a knight with no sword”.
I felt I was too old to get into school, but Jon got me through. He molded me into a man worth being proud of and trained me in the art of business and building companies.
By the time I was forty, I had become a tech mogul and one of the few billionaires in the world, due to owning several groups of companies. I was now a man of respect, but if it hadn’t been for Jon, I would still be pushing drugs through a one-mile block in the hood and undervalued with no sense of planning or direction.
His words of wisdom always came marked with sarcasm, and I loved it. It kept our bond alive and a sense of humor was always prized in our house. By the time I was around forty-one, Jon suggested to me, nay, nudged the thought into me about having a family.
“Sir, if I may, your body is not getting any younger, and it would be wise to find a good lady to settle down with,” he once brought up.
“Can it, Jon; I’m too busy for that,” I would retort, as my secretary scheduled another meeting with investors.
“More bimbos it is then…” he whispered, with a roll of his narrow eyes.
“What was that, Jon?”
“A bit of nothing, Sir,” he replied with a smirk.
I was not a man to have a relationship. I hated the thought of connecting with someone and then having my heart broken, or even worse, having them hurt because of who I am and what I own. Hence my playboy ways that Jon disapproved of so much.
One day, right after my forty-second birthday, during which Jon and I took a trip to the homeless shelter in the town, he came to me with a look of contentment and cheek.
“Jon?” I asked, confused by his unusual expression.
“Sir, tomorrow we go to church,” was all he said, with a tone of finality. “I have someone I think you should meet.”
So, I did as he requested and started attending church every Sunday. At first, I wasn’t quite sure who he wanted me to see, but then it became obvious.
Although I was happy to meet the person he wanted me to reunite with, I was even happier to meet that person’s daughter.
Chapter Three - Alexander
I hated it, at first.
The smiles, the color, and even the hymns just got to me. Jon drove me to the church in the town early one Sunday morning, amidst my protests.
“Do you really think this is the best way to spend my time on a Sunday morning? Aren’t my monthly donations enough? I could be on a yacht with a blonde-haired girl right now,” I argued.
Jon was silent all the way, humming to his favorite tune of an old English band. The limo came to a halt. The stony slabs that led towards the church seemed old; older than the tree that stood proudly at the edge of the paved parking lot.
“Sir, I shall wait outside in case you decide to leave. Today feels special enough to have dragged you here. Perhaps you will find yourself a dove to call your own,” he cheekily smirked.
Then he popped open his Kindle and continued reading a comical story from where he had left off.
Annoyed, but also curious, I walked in carefully, not wanting to distract the worshipping of the seemingly silent Creator. He chose my family to die so that I could be elevated, but for what?
A male usher was kind enough to ogle at me like I was a potato with a wig on and rushed to the front of the altar. The preacher was just about to finish his prayer, and then the stupid usher whispered something to his ear that made the preacher pause.
He looked at me with wide eyes, and the congregation followed his gaze.
I was not embarrassed, not even a little. I was the CEO of a huge multinational company and was used to giving interviews and being at the heart of people’s stares, as well as donations to this church and other charities, all of which gave me the reputation of generosity.
I figured it was the least that I could do, since I had come so far in my own life.
“Hallelujah!” the preacher cried, when I walked in.
“Amen,” the crowd strongly answered.
“Brethren, it seems that today we have been blessed immensely by the presence of a man who has come physically to our fold. Brother Alex has joined us once again! Praise the name of the Father!”
I stood and smiled and waved. Little did I know of the curious, small eyes that were eyeing me from the front of the church. Those curious eyes would mean an interesting future for me in the days that would come to pass.
During the service, I was a little off my game. Ladies in the choir who were obviously looking for a man of the house flirted shamelessly in my sight, and the talk was vague.
It was during the hour of reading Bible verses that my senses and curiosity were peaked. The voice that resonated through the church halls was so immaculately fluid and angelic; I had to see who it was.
A woman much younger than I was stood defiantly at the altar and read out the Psalms. I don’t even recall her words – only her face and its intricate beauty.
I felt something that I had never felt before blooming within me.
Was it instant attraction?
Love at first sight?
Or just fleeting, temporary lust?
I didn’t know. But it was something – that was for sure.
By the time she had sat down, I had been so distracted that I had not caught her name.
The service ended and I looked for the young lady. I found her seated with two adults, whom I assumed were her parents. The mother was clearly the source of the young woman’s beauty and she had obviously inherited her fierce eyes from her huge and burly father. The mother sat next to a younger boy, who was probably the beautiful girl’s brother.
As I walked up towards them, the father looked up at me and smiled. He stood up and shook my hand strongly.
“Alexander! How long has it been?”
I was a bit confused and startled, but the slight scar at his left ear flooded me with memories of how I knew him.
James Silva and I had been in college together. He was a former boxer. I was in a bar fight once, and he had come to my aid.
“James! I almost didn’t recognize you. It’s been around twenty years or thereabouts? I see the family life came around and suited you, man!”
“Indeed, it did, old buddy! Oh. How ignorant of me,” he said, gesturing to me and then at his family. “Guys, this is Alexander Foster. We knew each other long ago and then went on our separate paths and now look at him. He’s the picture of success. And the wealthiest man I know, by far. Alexander, this is my wife Lisa, my son Andrew and my daughter, Valeria.”
My eyes shifted to each of them as I shook hands and acknowledged each member of my old friend’s family, until I got to the young woman who had enchanted me. She must have been about seventeen, still young and innocent.
“Hello, Valeria. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I whispered gently, with her soft hand in mine, making me feel as I had never felt before.
She was shy, but her body moved with a grace that made me feel weak. She had full breasts and curvaceous hips, and not to mention her cheekbones – those defined cheekbones that met at her cute bunny nose and led down to her small, sweet red lips.
But it was wrong of me to think of her that way. I was twice her age, and she was not even of the age of majority, yet I felt a spark that could not be comprehended.
After talking to James for a while, I bid them farewell and walked towards the pastor. I rejoined the church that day, quite enthusiastically so, and all thanks to Valeria.
On getting back to the car, Jon looked up at me and knew his silly plan had succeeded.
“I’m glad you’ve re-connected with your old friend I’d heard went to this church. I presume we shall be here once more next week, Sir?” he haughtily remarked, thinking that I would be happy to go now that I knew James attended here – when, in actuality, it was more about Valeria.
“Definitely, Jonathan, definitely,” I replied, mulling over the family with whom I had just met.
Time can be a tricky thing, it seems.
Chapter Four - Alexander
One Year Later
I find myself looking back in my mind over the past year or so, which had flown by so quickly that I don’t think I fully realized it until now. My company had grown in success and I had opened up a new office in New Zealand. The board of directors was a happy lot, and so was I — the money kept rolling in.
Jon and I lived at the heart of the upper L.A. countryside. I owned a small manor that was built from the ground up, and it had an ancient look to it despite the recent renovations.
I loved the place, for I had installed several hidden rooms in the walls just for my fun and for those I intended to bed, to fulfill my sexual kinks. But I had not been able to be with anyone, ever since I’d met Valeria.
After I started attending church, Jon had figured out I had a thing for her, and he and I had made a bet. If I brought home any girl apart from the one with whom I had seemingly become engrossed, I would gift him my limo and my kitchen. If I won, he would shave off his iron-gray mustache.
“A lion never shaves off its mane, Sir. I believe your failure is imminent. Shall I ready the car keys soon in light of my forthcoming victory?”
One thing about me is that I never lose a bet.
Ever.
It was a gift and a talent that I always thrashed around when I could, especially with some of the members of the board at my company on poker night.
Bet or not, I couldn’t seem to let myself even think of another woman besides Valeria. I had been waiting for her to turn eighteen, and she had. Then I had been holding off, telling myself not to mess up my rekindled friendship with James Silva, and not to take the innocence of his young daughter.
But I couldn’t seem to listen to myself. I was driven wild by thoughts of being with Valeria, and I just knew I had to do it, even if it was forbidden and very unwise.
After being such a player, I was not sure what had caused me to not want to be with anyone, other than the fact that I wanted to be with Valeria. It was a desire like none I had ever known before.
That Saturday night before church was long and grueling. I was in my study looking over the books I had collected. Memories of my brother Sean and sister Celeste filled my heart and I couldn’t help but wonder if my actions till today had by any way tainted their memory.
They fended for me at that early age and made sure that our father did not harm me physically. His last fucked up acts scarred me for life though, and I hated him so much for it.
Maybe, I wondered, maybe I’m afraid of falling in love because of what happened to mom and dad.
It was by far the simplest explanation, but I had always resisted thinking about it. I liked to pretend I had chosen to be a player, rather than being forced into it by my past and by my father’s actions.
Light footsteps brought me back to reality, and the man himself with the stark black suit and bowtie cleared his throat and asked, “Are you alright, Alexander?”
He rarely spoke to me in such an unofficial tone, even when in the house and when it was just the two of us. That must have meant I seemed distraught with my thoughts.
I smiled at his concern, for it was quite rare to see the great Jonathan succumb to emotion.
“I don’t think I am. Is it too late for me to start a new life with someone?” I shifted, rather uneasily. “I’ve hurt so many people in my past, and right now I think I might be too late to make amends.”
“Alexander, my boy,” Jon said, walking towards me in a slow fashion, choosing the next few words carefully in his mind.
“It is never too late,” he reassured me, as he faced me. “You can start over as soon as you want. Remember that wager we had? Do not forget why we had it.”
He reached down and squeezed my shoulder.
With that, he left my study, with his long coat flinching in a gust of light wind.
Jon always knew what to say.
I put my glass of cognac down and stood up.
“Tomorrow’s problems will be tomorrow’s problems,” I comforted myself. “I’ll worry about them then, not now.”
I slept that night thinking of only one girl.
Chapter Five - Alexander
I could not wait to head up to the church service that next delightful morning. The sun was just peeking out through the clouds at the exact right moments and its rays filtered through my window and onto my breakfast that consisted of cereal, berries and juice.
Jon reminded me of the luncheon and the revival that I was supposed to attend later that day, and then he headed out for a short vacation. Although I would miss his presence, he deserved the break, and I knew that I could get by on my own, although I preferred not to.
I enjoyed my breakfast alone and had a short workout session in my bedroom. I never saw the point of the gym, but I did love a good swim across the pool outside.
I got ready after a quick hot shower and got my suit on. It was a funny feeling I had in my stomach… butterflies?
I was uneasy. Ha-ha. I was fucking uneasy over a girl. This was not like me at all.
This was the first time a girl like Valeria had made me quiver and get hard at the same time.
I wanted to talk to her and get to know her better. She was a great girl and care provider in the community, albeit for some nasty rumors I chose to ignore about her and a certain young man.
She needed direction and a real man in her life. I told myself I could be that man, as I turned on the ignition of my blue Aston Martin and raced off to the luncheon.
The great doors to the church opened easily to me. My hands were strong and had a smoothness that I found quite appealing in pleasing ladies. Just one touch and I was assured of
a moan.
The waft of the various foods that had been prepared by the church members came to me in an invisible bubble of sweet aromas, and I was taken a little aback.
I walked cautiously towards my table, shaking the preacher’s hand and waving at the choir master, who had taken his purple robe off and was enjoying the plate of chicken right in front of him.
My eyes were set on one girl, and she was staring right at me with wide blue eyes. It felt more like we found each other with our eyes, and the eye contact screamed volumes about what she felt. I assumed Valeria had a crush on me, developed after all this time, but I wasn’t sure. Her eyes always peered at me as if it was so, but perhaps I was imagining it due to my own desires.
Her yellow sundress shone brightly in the room and made her stand out so beautifully. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a braid, the end of which fell over her shoulder. She seemed nervous, dropped my gaze, and stared down at her plate.
I was seated at a table at the end of the corner, close to the entrance to the lobby, and I had a clear view of the entire church. I was not that hungry and chose to sip my glass of wine as I entertained idle talk with some of the ushers, who could not hide their joy at sitting with me. I knew most of the church members were still in awe of my wealth.
Suddenly, Valeria left her table where she had been sitting with her family and headed for the bathrooms, which were located just a few feet from where I was. Our eyes met, and I knew she felt something too, as she opened the two-way door to the lobby and disappeared into the hallway.
I minced my thoughts together after fifteen minutes of waiting for Valeria to return. I had to do something to get closer to her, but not be obvious about my true intentions.
If I left and went straight to the bathrooms to find her, people would get suspicious. It would be best to go over and talk to her parents for a while.
I quickly apologized to my table hosts and walked gently but quickly to where James was seated. Shaking his hand, I smiled and eyed his wife for a moment.