This is the same routine I always do, when my feelings start to feel too real, I avoid them by preoccupying myself with pussy. I’m aware it’s unhealthy but like I tell my therapist, at least I’m self-aware. I slide my phone open, typing out a quick message to see if she’s around tonight and hit send. No use reaching out to the nanny first if Natalie is busy. She responds almost instantly.
Natalie: For you? Always ;)
Something about her response instantly kills my mood and I don’t bother responding. It’s not even nine yet and I’m showered and in for the night, having no desire to try and distract myself with work. I pour myself another healthy glass of whiskey and turn on ESPN to catch up on the recent scores. Something else I never have time to enjoy anymore—sports. My phone buzzes and I look down to see another text from Natalie.
Natalie: So, what’s the plan, sexy? I’m happy to come to you.
I close the screen, tossing my phone to the side, already regretting my decision to reach out to her knowing I have to face her tomorrow. I don’t know why but somewhere along our hookups, her sickly sweet attempts to seduce me do the exact opposite. Maybe I am just a jaded asshole, no longer interested in a woman who wants me back. Fucked, I know.
I try to distract myself and focus, but no matter what I do, I cannot get the image of her out of my head.
Daphne Flowers. Even her name sounds sweet and innocent like she was predestined to be a first-grade teacher.
I like her attitude and her smart mouth even though I gave her a hard time about it. I love a woman who can stand her ground, who can give as good as she gets. That was one of the many things that drew me to Mirabelle; she had a quick wit and a sharp tongue. Although the fantasies that come to mind about correcting that smart mouth of Daphne’s weren’t the same for Mirabelle. I learned early on in our relationship that she was fragile behind all that false bravado. She wasn’t open to allowing me to explore that side of myself. I respected that and honored it, my love for her and making her feel comfortable and safe with me was more important than any proclivities I had.
I close my eyes, allowing the whiskey to do its job. My mind is still fixated on Miss Flowers and whether or not she would allow me to explore that side of myself with her.
“Mr. Vaughn, Nile Logistics is here for your meeting along with your lawyers. I’ve set them up in the conference room as discussed.”
“Thank you, Loretta. Tell them I’ll be right in.”
I finish looking over my notes, something I don’t tend to hyper-fixate on before meetings because usually I’m the one being pitched to, but this deal is different. Today I’m trying to convince Nile Logistics, one of the largest transportation companies in the world, why they should sell me their shipping company. I’ve been expanding the transportation side of my empire with my airline and now I have my sights set on shipping while Nile has been looking to turn their focus more on trucking.
But that’s not why I’m uneasy. It’s because their head of acquisitions is Natalie Penner, my on and off flavor of the month, and I stupidly texted her last night in a whiskey-laden moment of weakness that I’m now regretting. Not to mention, I never responded to her. Obviously, it would be a conflict of interest if anyone found out, one I’m sure I could navigate but I’d rather not.
“Afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” I say as I enter the conference room, avoiding eye contact with Natalie.
“Weston,” Greg Tufft, their CEO, stands, then walks over to shake my hand with his signature elbow grab, something I’m sure he believes is a “power move.” “I can’t tell you how excited we are to finally have this meeting on the books; I know it’s been a long time in the works. Let me introduce you to everyone.” He goes around the table, introducing me to the local team as well as a few folks from New York, London, and Tokyo.
“Weston.” Natalie smiles as she approaches me with open arms, her tight shirt way too low for a work setting, but I jut my hand out instead. She glances down at my hand, her arms slowly dropping. “Of course.” She gives me a playful wink. “Always a pleasure to see you. I’m so excited to talk business.”
I nod and take a seat at the head of the table, making a mental note to remind her later that things between us are over—indefinitely. I’m not about to jeopardize this deal over a quick fuck. Not to mention, with our past and how we met, it’s even more messed up and something I’ve grown to regret and resent.
The meeting goes great, beyond great actually, and runs long. I glance at my watch, realizing that I’m going to be late getting home which means the nanny will be pissed I made her stay late… again. Maybe Miss Flowers was right about me; I need to learn a lesson in time management.
“Weston, I’m going to be honest with you. You are the man we want to do business with. Now, I’m not saying it’s a done deal; we are being courted pretty seriously by one other company we are considering. I know we’ve taken this meeting over, but I’d appreciate if you could join us for dinner and drinks at Mastro’s tonight.”
Fuck. The nanny won’t stay any later; I can guarantee it and tonight is my mother’s weekly charity something or other.
“Of course, I’m excited to continue the conversation.” I smile as we agree to meet at seven p.m.
I grab my jacket and phone, heading to the elevator. Loretta is already gone for the day, as is pretty much everyone else.
“Weston,” I hear Natalie’s raspy voice call after me as I walk briskly through the building lobby toward my waiting car, but I don’t stop. In fact, I pick up the pace and duck into the car quickly.
“Evening, Mr. Vaughn.”
“Evening, Nick. In a hurry tonight,” I say to my driver as he closes the door behind me.
“Long day?”
“Very,” I reply as I stare out the window, not focusing my attention on anything in particular. Sometimes I feel like my life has lost all meaning, and then I look into Daisy’s eyes and realize she’s my reason for living, my reason for everything.
“How’s the little one?” Nick has been my driver for a decade. He was the one to rush us to the hospital when Mirabelle went into labor with Daisy. Sometimes it feels like he’s more family than my own.
“Great. Loves school and her new teacher.” I think back on how many times a day I hear Daisy reference Miss Flowers. “How’s your new grandson?”
“Oh, he’s great. Already has the Mrs. and me wrapped around his tiny finger.”
We make small talk on the way back to my building. I try to remain engaged but I’m too focused on how badly I’m struggling trying to balance being a father and run my company. I rub my forehead, remembering Mirabelle saying something similar to me just after Daisy was born.
“It’s bad enough you’re not around like you should be for your wife, Weston, but you can’t do this with a child. We need you here.”
The second the car slows and Nick pulls up in front of my building, I’m running out of the door and inside. The elevator barely opens an inch before the nanny is standing in the foyer, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face.
“Mr. Vaughn,” she starts and I hold up my hands.