Page 14 of Tarek

“It’s been a pleasure Tarek Fairisles. I hope the myth of the necklace is true,” she says chuckling. I wipe her tears away and guide her to the front of the door down my stairs.

With no time to waste I open the car door and usher her inside.

“The pleasure has always been mine. Take care Veronica,” I close the car door softly, then tap the roof signaling for my driver to move along.

My staff knows the drill, with no time to lose the car whisks down the driveway.

“4,3,2,1” I count waiting for her to open the window and wave. Right on cue like the others she waves. I give a small wave back polite and practiced. As the car disappears from view, I let out a groan and jog up the stairs into the foyer. Thank fucking goodness.

“What was wrong with this one?” Walter asks as he closes the door behind me.

I sigh remembering the flash of text on her phone reminding her to poke the condom before we had sex. I knew I could never trust her and sure enough, within a month this situationship met its end. Like I ever use a condom that is not from my stash.

“She started planning my future without consulting me.” I say flatly “Walter have them bring my car to the front.” I head up the stairs back toward my bedroom. I have to leave now. All I needed was a jacket, and I was out. Dashing into my closet I pulled on a custom-tailored charcoal jacket over my black shirt. In the mirror I give myself a quick once-over, tug at my cuffs, smooth the front of my pants and I was ready.

My phone rings in my pocket. I slip out my Air pods, pop them in and answer.

“Good morning STD in waiting,” Cole’s gruff voice comes through clear.

“Very funny,” I mutter, grabbing my watch and my money clip off of the closet island.

I move swiftly through my bedroom and then down the stairs.

“Veronica, has moved on to a better life,” I say under my breath.

“Aww, did she say she loved you? What was this one’s problem?” Cole asks. I can hear the mirth in his voice.

I nod to Walter as I pass through the front door and jump into my idling car.

“Of course she loves me. Condom sabotage, and I couldn’t stand the scent of her fucking hair,” I reply calmly as my car rolls down my driveway.

“You had a fucking problem with her choice of shampoo, while she wanted your babies,” Cole teases. I broke through three red lights, if the cop pulls me over, they will let me go. That’s the privilege of having a father in the Quarter Masters and politics. I need a fucking coffee, maybe I can get to the Screaming Bean with time to spare.

“They don’t want my kid; they want the money that comes with it. Hell, if they wanted just the kid, I would jerk off in a fucking cup or paid a surrogate for them.”

“True,” Cole states.

“Let me call you back in 10.”

“Sure.” Cole’s gruff voice sounds depressed.

“Cole man you good?” I ask.

“Yeah, just tired. In fact, I’ll talk to you tomorrow and congrats on the Michelin shit.”

“Start with that next time. Later.” As the call ended, I look at my watch. 7:45 a.m., swinging the corner I park in front of The Screaming Bean.

The enchanting fragrance of a slow roast coffee assaults my senses. All the anxiety that was on my shoulder quiets in The Screaming Bean.

Standing in the line I make eye contact with a girl, who recently had a one-hour-night-stand with me at Rhet’s club Sparkle, her cheeks instantly flushes as she recognizes me.

I point at my phone telling her to text me. She looks confused, because duh I never gave her my phone number, as a matter of fact only about six people have my real number.

She motions me forward and I surpass the line. Why the hell should I stand there when a girl who rode my dick some night ago is behind the counter. Now what’s her name again?

“Hi.” She blushes, flashing her crooked smile.

Ah, fuck it. I reach out and graze her chin. “Bella.”

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