Re/Tired Playboy Billionaire
A typical Saturday rendezvous for the socialite Bruce Wayne, where he meets his weekend "it girl" on a Friday at some large fundraiser event and works his magic to have a public outing on Saturday. A couples golf game at the country club followed by dinner in the most expensive restaurant or a museum pleasure for a visiting artist that tickets were sold out and of course Bruce has two. However, it always ends at the Manor, where upon their entrance Alfred has made the most delicious spread for desert by a fire. They do a minimal tour of the first floor and then it's a superficial transparent line about how they must see the bedrooms before they leave. Bruce never has to initiate, they always ask and Alfred is always out of sight. They have their fun and by 10 pm it suddenly appears to be getting late because Bruce of course, has an early morning meeting. When truthfully, Batman then goes on patrol. This is the insurance laid, tested and true for Bruce Wayne's reputation that he has lived by for years. Any woman who dares to get involved with Bruce Wayne knows this too. They know they are more likely to be "Miss flavor of the month" versus the highly unlikely "Mrs. Bruce Wayne." Most of them are interested in the mystery and few seconds of fame, others naively think they can crack the man, nail him down. Although Bruce Wayne's conspicuous behavior has recently been on hiatus, he slips back into the routine like you would a warn shoe and although displeased, he doesn't miss a step.
Bruce returns his golden fork to the table as he finishes his last bite of fillet. He watches as the flickering light from the candle in-between them dances playful shapes across his gorgeous date's face. Gotham's newest fashion model with a PhD in dermatology and a private practice for when swimsuit season is over, Dr. Jasmine Boquet is just the right catch for billionaire Bruce Wayne. He scooped her up after a Wayne Enterprises charity event. It was as if she sauntered down the runway just for the benefactor himself. Of course, Bruce Wayne had to organize a private meeting with such a brilliant looker. Bruce Wayne has to do a myriad of things to maintain normalcy. For example, forcing himself to ignore the onslaught of text messages from the Batclan buzzing in his pocket about cases while he sips his wine. Carefully remembering to smile as he is "listening" instead of casing every individual around him. Being present isn't the most challenging part. Pacifying the Gotham reporters flocking around him like leeches needing to absorb his every move is possibly the most exhausting. As he politely offers to top off Jasmine's wine glass and finishes the fine bottle of Château d'Yquem (only someone like Wayne could afford it) he does it on an angle to make sure the paparazzi in the corner captures the action in full. Ms. Boquet is a lovely conversationalist, despite the pretense of their introduction. She is from a wealthy family raised in the vineyards of Northern California. Father owns stock in Squaw Valley resort and Mother is the daughter of an oil tycoon. As Bruce gently slices into his rosemary potatoes, he intently listens to his date divulge how she started modeling for charity and was seen by a major agency and life exploded from there. How her family's notoriety made her an interest piece in the tabloids and how she loves being a strong black woman who has a PhD and a modeling career to inspire others. How she graces children's hospitals yearly and truly believes in philanthropy. How Mr. Wayne's endless generosity is what caught her attention to Bruce. He is sensing a pitch is coming. She is ambitious alright, with her radiant smile punctuating her enthusiasm for the eligible bachelor. She thinks they would make such the pair, the new power couple of Gotham, she dares to hint. Bruce gets the message and never lets his charm waver no matter how forward a proposition it is for a first date four hours in. Their neatly pressed waiter returns and asks if the couple would like desert. Bruce is suave and waves his hand, "My butler has prepared the finest soufflé, shall we take a tour of Wayne Manor?" and with that her eyes evolve into enormous moons of excitement for a brief moment until they shrink back to a coy longing gaze that signifies Bruce's hint is understood. "Add this to my tab." "Certainly, sir." And the two are off. The clouds of camera's and flashing lights fluttering around them as they make their way to Wayne's limo that remains on and out front during the entire 90 minute meal.
Sure enough, after entering the house and Ms. Boquet's shock at it's beauty and impeccable timeless architecture, there is indeed two soufflés near a lit fire and champagne chilling in the sitting room. As his date makes herself comfortable, Bruce is inside his head more than normal. Anticipating what was next to come, he can't help but feel slightly disappointed. He isn't interested in starting this up again and while the intelligent woman across from him is sure to satisfy him, she wasn't what he wanted. He thinks to Alfred bringing to his attention the negative tabloid's and the growing questions due to the playboy's vacation from his escapades and he is snapped back into Bruce Wayne mode and remembers the overall goal. Bruce Wayne is as much a survivalist as Batman, if not more with how deep the details go despite his actual desires. Then the necessity to see more of the house comment is made and the two are headed upstairs. Bruce tries to stay focused as he turns the knob to the Master bedroom. He is loosing steam in this charade and decides to skip the normal dog and pony show of featuring the other eight rooms.
"Here is the master bedroom, complete with a —" his sentence immediately halted as the two enter the room to discover another beautiful woman, laying across Bruce's bed, sideways fully nude with the exception of a barely there lacy black thong and black pumps flipping through a fetish magazine. There is a whip laying in front her as her red nails flash with each saucy page turn, she purrs before she speaks. "You're late!"
The color drops from Jasmin's face and she explodes with upset. "BRUCE?! OH my… Oh my God!" She immediately pushes herself away from Bruce.
"Jasmine, I…" He tries to explain as he puts himself in front of the site on the bed trying to hide it.
"You didn't tell me you were bringing a playmate? No problem, that'll be extra." The woman teases. His date visibly flustered, Bruce shoots a look over his shoulder that makes the woman grin devilishly.
Jasmine's mouth goes agape and she slaps Bruce on the arm. "What kind of… WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?!" She heads for the door.
Bruce tries half heartedly to stop her. "No! Jasmine…this isn't—"
She swings the door out in fury, "No wonder you're still single Bruce Wayne! Don't call, don't text and don't book my agency for any more of your fundraisers!" She slams the door on her way out. He quietly reopens it to watch her hurry out the front door, shoulders tensed as he gently shuts it again. He turns around with an annoyed look on his face until he is once again looking at the intruder in his room. All the muscles relax in his face as he drinks in her form, thus prompting a wild giggle from the woman on the bed.
A slight scowl returns. Firmly, but cautiously he asks, "Selina. Why?"
"Oh come on, that was thrilling!" She laughs joyfully, closes the magazine and props her hand under the side of her head completely pleased with herself.
"Maybe for you."
"I saw your face, you entertained the idea of group fun." She teases.
"Hardly." He says still standing by the door tension filled.
Selina rubs her hand down her body and smooths her legs back and forth. "Well, what about seeing me?"
"Hmm." The corner of his mouth raises ever so slightly.
She lets out a huff, "That's it? My how the tides have changed."
"You changed them." He barks as he un-does his cuff links.
"Oh so you're just being salty. Good. I'd be worried about you if I stopped having any effect, especially dressed like this." She stares him down suggestively.
He removes his suit jacket and hangs it on the coat rack by the door, with a groan to his voice. "The outfit, I like. The front page headline of 'Bruce Wayne, Gotham's New Fetish King, I don't." Selina doesn't say anything back and just pouts. Bruce removes his belt and continues. "I'm going to ask again, why?"
"You mean, why am I here? I thought that part was obvious, I brought the whip and all." She says playing with it.
"Why now?" He retorts curtly.
Suddenly silence. They just stare at each other. They've been doing this dance for a while. First time he broke it off. The next time they both called it quits. This last time it was Selina who made it fiercely clear they were over. Bruce breaks the gaze as he shuts his eyes. She can hear the slight pain as he speaks, "Selina, you ended this. That's not what I wanted. You—"
"—You didn't tell me you were dating again." She sits up as she interrupts him.
He steps toward her, "I'm not."
She snakes back, "Excuse me, this year's Victoria's Secret model that was just here says otherwise."
He finally moves closer to the bed. "That's not. That's Bruce Wayne… that's not real."
"Not real? You were just pretending? Make believe showing her your bedroom?"
He untucked his shirt. "Since when do you do jealousy?"
"Right about the time you made it public you were sleeping with other people." She slowly folds her arms feeling more vulnerable.
He yells as he pulls his tie free from his neck. "BRUCE WAYNE has to. There's a—"
She kneels up still on the bed yelling "— I understand the differences between Batman and Bruce Wayne, but if you are about to try and explain that if Bruce Wayne sleeps with someone it doesn't count, I will kill you."
He stops unbuttoning his shirt, "Selina, you. ended. us."
"It's been THREE months?" She sits back down and refolds her arms.
"And the papers were talking for several!" He says tossing the shirt onto the floor with effect.
"I see. And that's the only reason?" She's helplessly eyeing the newest distraction, the solid chiseled chest she's missed dearly.
He notices. "Did you come here to make up?" A microscopic grin undetectable to those who don't know Bruce the way she does forms as he unbuttons the top of his pants.
She uncrosses her arms, "Will my answer to that, change your answer?" Mood changing as she starts tracing little circles with her fingers playfully on the bed.
"No." His voice deepens as he walks right up to her.
She kicks her heels off and then kneels up again, slowly placing her hands on his zipper, she gently pulls it down as she looks up at him, "Yes, Bat. I came for you. I want you back."
He goes to kiss her, but she anticipates and quickly draws a finger up to his mouth to pause him. He still hadn't answered her. He sighs. "I didn't want to be with her. It was only because Bru—" she places the finger back to silence him.
"Shhh, she's gone now." she whispers into his mouth.
He wraps his arms around her and pulls her bare chest into his. "Cat?" He exhales near to her lips.
"Hmm?" She runs her hand through his hair.
"I've never been more delighted to see you, but…"
She quickly pulls back "But?"
"Why is that magazine addressed to Bruce Wayne?"
She tosses her head back and utters a deep laugh "Because believe it or not, Batman was already taken!" She continues to laugh as she cups his face and begins to kiss him through his aggravated mumble of "that's NOT what I meant!" but he relinquishes as their bodies press into one another and their lips lock for an intense reconciliation.
