Page 2 of The Billionaire's Fortunate Accident
I took it like it was a shot. “Another one, please.”
“Holy shit!” She made me another one, but this time offered me some sage advice, “Don’t drive home.”
“I got here in an Uber, and I’ll leave in one too.” I drank this one a bit slower as I turned to scan the room. It was filled with people jumping up and down to the bouncy beat of the Jonas Brothers’ song, “It’s Only Human.”
It’s only human, you know that it’s real
So why would you fight or try to deny the way that you feel?
Oh, babe, you can’t fool me, your body’s got other plans
So stop pretending you’re shy, just come on and
Dance, dance, dance, dance…
Lost in the lyrics, I wondered if anyone was really shy anymore. No one in this club seemed shy in the least. I saw no wallflowers hanging out along the outer edges of the crowd.
Early morning la-la-light
Only getting up to close the blinds, oh
I’m praying you don’t change your mind
Cause leaving now just don’t feel right
Let’s do it one more time, oh babe…
I had to wonder why there were so many songs about sex. This particular song was about sex with a stranger. Two people meet in a bar or a nightclub, just like this one, go home together, and get right down to the nitty-gritty. The dirty deed. The horizontal mambo. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was one thing, and that thing was human. Being human. Needing another human to make things seem as if they were okay.
Scratching that itch alone could be alright and was certainly great for giving a person some relief. But having sex with a partner is a whole different story— a muchbetter one. For a long time in my life, I hadn’t even cared what partner I had—just as long as I had one.
Staring at all the jumping, humping strangers, it suddenly hit me that something had changed inside my brain with this birthday. There had to be more to life than just partying.
What would that be? I don’t know yet.
My brothers had all found their soulmates and produced some offspring. While I enjoyed playing with my nieces and nephews, I hadn't really wanted one a kid of my own. And I hadn’t wanted a woman of my own either.
I preferred playing the field. The bachelor lifestyle had suited me just fine. But as I looked around, I couldn’t find a single woman who turned me on. Gyrating females usually did the trick for me, but not on this night.
Downing the remainder of my drink, I turned back to find the bartender shaking her head at me. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. Something is, though. Maybe another one of these will help me understand better.” I slid the empty glass across the bar.
Even though she took the glass to refill it, she wasn’t going to do it without giving me her input first. “I’ve never seen a single incident where alcohol helped someone understand anything any better. But here you go anyway.” She placed the drink in front of me. “If I start to see you wobbling on that barstool, I’m calling you a cab.”
“You’re a very mindful person.” I took a sip of the drink, which burned as it went down my throat.
“I am that.” She left me to tend to her other customers, probably offering them more of her wise words as well.
Terry’s tall form emerged from the dancers, his eyes on me. “There you are. You’ve got this round, Stone.”
“I forgot.” Signaling the bartender, who only shook her head at me, I shrugged. “She’s not gonna hurry to get me anything. This is my third Texas Tea.”
“What’s up, Stone?” Terry leaned on the bar between me and another guy who was sitting on the next stool. “Is turning twenty-seven getting to ya or what?”
“I don’t know, man. Like, I reallydon’tknow. I’m just not feeling this right now. I’m trying to.” I held up the drink. “Hence this strong concoction that I’m pouring down my gullet. But it hasn’t changed anything thus far.”
“Four beers,” he shouted to the bartender and then looked back at me. “I’m thirty. I know the kinds of things that go through a man’s head after getting to the end of their twenties. Things like, ‘Will I be expected to settle down with some woman and end the best days of my life now?’”
