Page 130
Story: Whispered Sins
He got up and stretched.
“I guess I better go pick up my tux and get ready. There’s nothing like walking down the red carpet looking like a fucking penguin.”
“I owe you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He walked toward the door.
“Have fun,” I called after him.
He gave me the finger before slipping out into the hallway.
I chuckled to myself as I looked out the window. I did feel a little guilty for making him pick up my slack again. The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow through my office. I closed my laptop and stood from my chair. I slipped my jacket on and walked down the hallway.
“Have a good evening, Mr. Jacobs,” said Margaret, giving a little wave from her desk.
“You too, Margaret,” I replied. “And just so you know. I’m fine. I don’t need my little brother babysitting me.”
She opened her mouth nervously, but no words came out. I immediately felt bad for calling her out. She was always so timid.
“It’s okay, Margaret.” I winked, trying to soothe her worries.
I knew she did it because she cared. I had thrown her a few curveballs over the past few months, like canceling important last-minute meetings and disappearing to Bora Bora.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jacobs,” she said after me.
I gave her a little wave and stepped into the elevator.
On the ride home, I caught up on the news on my phone. At the top of the business page, I noticed my name. I clicked the link, hoping it was an article covering the latest developments with our London partner, but was disappointed to see it was really just entertainment news disguised as business.
The headline read:Will Daniel Jacobs and Kiera Shipley Make Their Public Debut?
I continued reading.
As reported, the two were getting steamy on the beaches of Bora Bora just weeks ago. While we haven’t received any commentary from Jacobs’ team, Shipley’s publicist did release the following statement:
“The two are enjoying their reunion and excited for what the future holds.”
I rolled my eyes and kept reading the bullshit in front of me.
The two were in a relationship years back, but broke up stating irreconcilable differences. While Shipley has married twice since then, Jacobs has continued enjoying the bachelor life. Will this be the second chance that will end in forever?
Only time will tell, but we are eager to see if the two show up at tonight’s Angel Ball.
I closed the browser on my phone and slid my phone back in my jacket pocket. That was just another reason not to go tonight. Kiera would definitely be there. I heard she was back in town and she never missed an event to dress up and be seen.
The last thing I needed was the paparazzi to snap our photos and the press to put them together, while they spun whatever story they wanted.
Up in my apartment, I took a shower and slid on some flannel pajama pants and a Mets T-shirt. I ordered a burger and fries from Lucky’s and flipped through the channels on TV for a movie to watch while I waited for my food to be delivered. I settled on an action movie and poured myself a glass of whiskey at the bar.
Four hours later, my stomach was full and my brain was comfortably fuzzy from the whiskey as the sequel to the first movie wrapped up. I checked the time on my phone. It was nearly 11 o’clock. I took the takeout containers to the kitchen and threw them in the trash, and then rinsed out my whiskey glass.
I was about to head to bed when my intercom buzzed. Who the hell was showing up now?
I hit the button.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Hi, Mr. Jacobs. There is a woman here to see you…” said the front desk attendant down in the lobby.
“I guess I better go pick up my tux and get ready. There’s nothing like walking down the red carpet looking like a fucking penguin.”
“I owe you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He walked toward the door.
“Have fun,” I called after him.
He gave me the finger before slipping out into the hallway.
I chuckled to myself as I looked out the window. I did feel a little guilty for making him pick up my slack again. The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow through my office. I closed my laptop and stood from my chair. I slipped my jacket on and walked down the hallway.
“Have a good evening, Mr. Jacobs,” said Margaret, giving a little wave from her desk.
“You too, Margaret,” I replied. “And just so you know. I’m fine. I don’t need my little brother babysitting me.”
She opened her mouth nervously, but no words came out. I immediately felt bad for calling her out. She was always so timid.
“It’s okay, Margaret.” I winked, trying to soothe her worries.
I knew she did it because she cared. I had thrown her a few curveballs over the past few months, like canceling important last-minute meetings and disappearing to Bora Bora.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Jacobs,” she said after me.
I gave her a little wave and stepped into the elevator.
On the ride home, I caught up on the news on my phone. At the top of the business page, I noticed my name. I clicked the link, hoping it was an article covering the latest developments with our London partner, but was disappointed to see it was really just entertainment news disguised as business.
The headline read:Will Daniel Jacobs and Kiera Shipley Make Their Public Debut?
I continued reading.
As reported, the two were getting steamy on the beaches of Bora Bora just weeks ago. While we haven’t received any commentary from Jacobs’ team, Shipley’s publicist did release the following statement:
“The two are enjoying their reunion and excited for what the future holds.”
I rolled my eyes and kept reading the bullshit in front of me.
The two were in a relationship years back, but broke up stating irreconcilable differences. While Shipley has married twice since then, Jacobs has continued enjoying the bachelor life. Will this be the second chance that will end in forever?
Only time will tell, but we are eager to see if the two show up at tonight’s Angel Ball.
I closed the browser on my phone and slid my phone back in my jacket pocket. That was just another reason not to go tonight. Kiera would definitely be there. I heard she was back in town and she never missed an event to dress up and be seen.
The last thing I needed was the paparazzi to snap our photos and the press to put them together, while they spun whatever story they wanted.
Up in my apartment, I took a shower and slid on some flannel pajama pants and a Mets T-shirt. I ordered a burger and fries from Lucky’s and flipped through the channels on TV for a movie to watch while I waited for my food to be delivered. I settled on an action movie and poured myself a glass of whiskey at the bar.
Four hours later, my stomach was full and my brain was comfortably fuzzy from the whiskey as the sequel to the first movie wrapped up. I checked the time on my phone. It was nearly 11 o’clock. I took the takeout containers to the kitchen and threw them in the trash, and then rinsed out my whiskey glass.
I was about to head to bed when my intercom buzzed. Who the hell was showing up now?
I hit the button.
“Hello?” I asked.
“Hi, Mr. Jacobs. There is a woman here to see you…” said the front desk attendant down in the lobby.
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