This was not fun.
I expected to arrive at my home to have dinner ready, per usual, and Carlton sitting at the table waiting for me.
What I got was dinner—but no Carlton.
In fact, my secretary, when pressed for details, told me no woman with the name of Carlton asked for a key to my house.
The way she had said it made me wonder how many other women not by the name of Carlton had asked for a key to my house.
Worth finding out. But that was an entirely different matter to be stored in the back of my mind for later.
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"Why would you WANT to remember that piece of information?"
"Dear, I'm finding it hard to tell this honestly with you breathing down my neck every ten seconds."
"I was good for a long time, thank you."
"Thank god…"
"What was that?"
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Anyways, I said I would see Carlton at dinner and Nasdaq be damned if I was going to be proved wrong.
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"You shivered."
"Shut up."
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So I left home again driving at a fast pace to the Carlton mansion. Where I found no Carlton. But I did find an overly helpful maid that not only directed me to Carlton's house but also bestowed upon me the great honor of throwing away her phone number while driving back down the long drive from the Carlton home.
Note to self: find suitable woman to fuck. They CANNOT be maids, secretaries, anyone in my office in general, hostesses, waitresses, hairdressers, interns, and for good measure…botanists, tobacconists or cheerleaders.
Damn women.
Give me stocks any day. More predictable.
So, that was when I found myself ringing the doorbell of a one K. Carlton that was displayed brightly in some green color on her mailbox.
She opened the door a little more rumpled than she was that morning. Carlton was clad in a white tank top, sweats and an overly large sweater/jacket thing that lay open and went past her knees. She looked kinda cute…in a someone-needs-to-take-care-of-me kind of way.
Before she could respond and slam the door in my face I pushed open her door and brushed by her petite form in the doorway.
"Why aren't you packed?" I asked while closing the door.
In fact, that wasn't true. Boxes were strewn everywhere with little labels such as "kitchen" and "bedroom" that hinted at their contents. It seemed she had just moved into this house recently.
"I am packed, can't you see?" She muttered.
"Did you just move in?"
"No, I just like keeping everything in boxes."
There was the acidic sarcasm again.
"I was being serious."
"So was I."
I paused. It slightly annoyed me that I couldn't get a straight answer out of her. She apparently took the hint from my silence.
"I just finished grad school and I wanted to strike out on my own."
"What was your major?"
I wasn't interested, honestly. I had to start a conversation somewhere. Just keep in mind I really, really wanted her father's company.
"Marine biology."
I almost snorted.
Almost.
"Not out to make the big bucks, are we?"
"I've never had a problem with money before and if I marry you then it will never matter, right?"
That brought the situation a little closer to home. It was clear that she was about to make some sort of proposition.
"I know you really want to merge with my father."
"How did you guess?"
"Kingston. Shut up a minute and listen to me. I will give you the company."
I was vaguely peeved, but I got over it quickly.
"Whats the catch? You know you'll have to marry me to do this."
"Yes. But I also know you aren't planning on falling in love with me."
This got my attention. Perhaps I underestimated her.
"And I don't plan to fall in love with you. So…you can have the company as long as I have the freedom to do as I choose."
"Meaning…?" I didn't like that glint in her eye.
"If I ever find love, I can have an affair. You could do the same if you wish."
It took me about two seconds to consider it.
"No."
"Why ever not? I am offering you all you want and more."
"Once we are married we belong to each other. No one else can have what is mine."
"Damn it, I was being reasonable, Kingston. Can't you just consider it?"
"No, I will not consider it."
"Please…"
It suddenly clicked. I felt incredibly stupid for a moment before my ego took over and crushed that thought.
Me, stupid? Never.
I also felt something akin to jealously but the good ol' id took care of that.
Me, jealous? Never.
"Who is he?"
"W-what?"
"Who are you in love with?"
"No one! I am just keeping my options open!"
"And these options cannot even believe that you might actually fall in love with me?"
And then she laughed. I would never think something so maniacal could come from something so petite. Her raven-black hair swayed as she guffawed.
I didn't thin the notion as that funny.
"Look at yourself," she said after the laughter subsided. "You have been cooped up in your office since you were twelve being fed a constant diet of financial reports and stock options. Your assistant, it is widely known, considers the New York Stock exchange his home. You haven't dated for years even though it is also widely known you are the "sexiest" (she inserted her own air quotes) and most eligible bachelor on this side of the universe. You ruthlessly drag companies through the dirt until they succumbed to your take over. When questioned about your clothes you are known to answer, 'what, this old thing? Armani is getting too cheap these days.' All you've done your whole entire life is work and you expect me to believe in the possibility that I will fall in love with you?"
"Sixteen."
"What?"
"I've been 'cooped up' (I used my own air quotes) in my office since I was sixteen, not twelve."
"Oh."
I tried not to smile about the Armani comment. Which reminds me…
Note to self: Buy new loafers, these are scratched.
But other than that, for some reason her little speech annoyed me. Perhaps it was because all of it was true. But there was still a lot she didn't know. Like, the reason why I hadn't dated for a long time was due to that fact that I was married—for about nine months until the girl had delivered her baby and filed for divorce. I didn't love her, but it was the only way I could convince her to keep the child. I didn't want an abortion with my flesh and blood, thank you. So when we divorced she got a nice settlement check and I got Rin. But I wasn't about to tell Carlton about that. I was young…about twenty then. Rin was seven now and off at boarding school for a bit. With her here I couldn't focus on the company like it was necessary. Carlton would meet her soon enough for after I heard of this arrangement I had asked to have Rin brought home. If Rin was to have a new mother she needed to approve of her first.
Our whole little conversation had taken more time than I thought it had.
"Umm…I was about to make some pasta if you wanted to stay…"
Well, at least she was trying a little more now. I should share more of my life with her more often. Even though I didn't want to.
"Sure. I said I was going to see you at dinner after all…"
She slightly smiled and once again the sheer beauty this little spitfire possessed took me aback. I sat back at the kitchen table admiring and watching her work. She had told me not to interfere, even though I assured her I knew how to cook.
To say the least she worked magic in the kitchen. And her movements were some sort of interesting foreplay. I found myself becoming aroused as she blew a tuft of her hair out of her face or when she would stick out her tongue a bit when concentrating on the amount of tomato paste to put in the sauce.
There was a faintly awkward moment when she leaned over me to place her delicious creation on the placemat before me and I unconsciously breathed in her sweet aroma. When she turned to look at me we were but a hairs breadth away from touching lips and at that instant I wasn't sure what I was hungrier for—the mouth-watering food or the mouth-watering temptress.
But she saved me the decision when she moved quickly away and began eating herself.
As I was leaving her house that night—with the promise of her moving in the next day—I couldn't help feeling excited for the time to come and our now inevitable sexual joining.
I wanted her and even she couldn't stop me now.
Hey…she is suitable. She is a marine biologist.
