Page 16 of Big Daddy to Go

6

Kane

As I sit in my office on Third Avenue looking over the end of the quarter profits and losses, my mind drifts to last week. Lexi left before I woke up.

Usually, that’s how I like for things to go. I don’t want girls to linger and get comfortable with me. I’m quite particular with the company I keep, especially when it comes to women. I’ve met too many gold diggers who dream of being socialites to allow myself to be used.

I don’t date. I hook up. Usually, I wine and dine girls I meet at Marquee. The girls there want to land a rich guy, and I know that. But by the time I’m done with a girl, she’s usually looking for more than my money. Being well-endowed has its advantages, but I never take out the same girl more than three times.

I know there is nothing more than sex between us, and if I let it go on, I’d be taking advantage. Or I’d wind up letting them take advantage of me. I won’t be played for a fool. I won’t be used for my money, or even for my body. I have given up hope that good women exist anymore. Thoughts of marriage and kids are dreams I had in my twenties, but now, I’m not so sure it’s possible for me.

Even sexually, I’m no longer satisfied with the trash I meet. All of these women I see conform to some sort of mold. They all look like they need to eat a sandwich and lay off of the collagen and Botox injections.

Lexi is different than most girls, though. Her curvy body is a delicious sight. She’s a real woman.

While I could tell Lexi didn’t come from money, she also didn’t seem too concerned with mine. Even though she admired the penthouse at the Hotel Magnolia, she was more enthralled with me.

Thoughts of her legs wrapped around my waist fill my mind. I can still hear the sound of her ass slapping against the glass as I drove my cock deep inside her.

I want to see her again, but I don’t even know her last name. I went back to The Drunken Bucket last night. Since we met there on a Thursday, I thought it might be the night she goes to that bar.

The same bartender who had been working that night was there. I asked if he had seen the girl I left with.

“Oh, Chugs?” he remembered.

“Has she been here?”

“Usually she comes on Friday nights for happy hour with her friend.”

I thanked him for the information and left, knowing I would come back tonight since it’s Friday.

The day drags on. I debate leaving work early, wanting to head home to shower and change for tonight. I was certainly out of place in my Versace suit last week at The Drunken Bucket.

Four o’clock rolls around, and I page my assistant, Joel.

“Yes, Mr. Jones?”

“Joel, cut it with the Mr. Jones crap already. You’ve been working for me for half a year now,” I chuckle.

“Sorry, Kane.”

Joel grew up in the South and is a hard-working kid who moved to New York City straight from college. Quite a few qualified people applied to be my assistant, but I liked the idea of giving the kid a chance. This city can swallow people like Joel up if they don’t find the right opportunities.

“I’m leaving for the day. If anyone wants to reach me, tell them I will get back to them on Monday.”

“You got it. Have a great weekend, Kane.”

“You too. Great job at the meeting today,” I assure him, knowing he had been taken out of his comfort zone when he had to speak in front of the executive team.

I leave the building and head to my penthouse on East 22ndStreet. I decide to take the subway home instead of my private car service. I try to take public transportation a couple of times a week. It keeps me grounded. I can have anything I want, as fast as I need it.

I try to remember that life isn’t always about material things, though. I like taking the train or walking somewhere every once in a while. I sometimes unplug from technology too. It helps me clear my mind and destress.

And I really liked going to a dive bar last week and drinking cold beer while watching the Yankees game. Going home with a beautiful stranger was the icing on the cake. It felt normal, like something I did back in the small town I grew up in near Philly. The only thing missing was the buddies I’d had back then.

I’d become too lost in work after college to keep up most of my relationships. I missed out on a real social life as I worked my way up the financial ladder. And now, I question people’s motives so much that I keep everyone at a distance.

When I get home, my chocolate Labrador, Kayla, runs up to me. I don’t care that she’s covering me with dog hair as I scratch her belly. She makes this penthouse a home for me. I love having someone to come home to. Dogs are loving and loyal, and Kayla doesn’t care if I’m rich. All she cares about is food, walks, and love.

“Kay-Kay, are you hungry?” I ask.

She wags her tail and waits by her food bowl in the kitchen. I give her a can of dog food and head into my bedroom to get out of my work clothes. After I shower and shave, I pick out a pair of jeans and a collared shirt.

Once I’m ready, I take Kayla for a walk, all the while thinking about Lexi. I know it might be a longshot for her to even be at the pub, or that she will come home with me if she is, but I can’t stop thinking about her.

The sex was fucking fantastic, but our chemistry was on-point. I need one more night with her. I had never been with a girl like Lexi—with all of those delicious curves and the passion in her kiss. I’m once again aware of how different Lexi is than the girls I’ve picked up at Marquee—with their bony hips and and dull conversation with forced laughter.

After Kayla’s walk, I bring her back upstairs and grab my car keys. I lock up and head to the parking garage to retrieve my BMW. As I drive toward The Drunken Bucket, I say a silent prayer to see Lexi tonight along with her sexy ass.