Page 2 of Beautiful Disaster

“Ooh, okay, Danke, Herr James. I vill settle for zee Prius then.” I hung up quickly. My heart pounded with the hopes he didn’t recognize my voice. Even if he did, it didn’t matter. I will call in every day, with different accents, different scenarios just to hear that voice. I was obsessed now, not really, it was more curiosity at this stage in our blossoming relationship.

***An Hour Later ***

Fifth floor, why did it have to be the fifth floor? Five is my lousy luck number and the reason being that it never fails me. I was engaged to a man, a physical trainer, for five months. He dumped me on our five-month anniversary. After five dates, I get dumped. After five days of calls and texts, I am ghosted. Without fail, the number five is a curse.

I approached a young, preppy man with a placard that said, FRANKIE. Yeah, that's a real professional name, FRANKIE. “Hello!”

He looked up from his phone, wide-eyed. “Oh, my Gawd. Desiree King, I am a big fan of your show.” He shook my hand. It was slimy, and super gross, but he was pleasant enough. “I haven’t missed one show but learning that finding love in Vegas is so difficult—even in the gay community.”

“Well, Frankie, finding love for anyone regardless of sexual preference is difficult, especially in Vegas.” I left it at that. There was no sense in engaging in a deep conversation with him regarding my dormant love life. “I have an appointment with the King of Finance, Hardin Mills.”

“We know, we’ve been eager to see you.” Frankie jumped to his feet, leading me to what I assumed was Hardin’s office. “Hardin, Miss Queen of Hearts is here for her four o’clock meeting with you.”

The moment Hardin’s eyes met mine, I stopped, gasping silently. Who would have thought a finance expert would be so-so-decent looking? Holy crap! For once in my life, I was speechless. This man looked nothing like I imagined he would, the complete polar opposite of a super nerd. He looked more like one of those hot firemen in a calendar, mmm, Mr. December.

“Miss King?” Hardin broke me out of my daydream with his hand out to shake mine. “Miss King?”

“Yes! That is me, Miss King, or you can call me anything you want.” I buried my face in my hand. Why in the hell did I say that? Well, he thought it was funny unless he was just laughing at me.

Hardin cleared his throat, “Um, please have a seat, Desiree. May I call you Desiree?”

Taking the seat, I moved my face to hide behind the monitor. “Of course, you may. Can I call you Hardin?”

“Hardin, please. Your portfolio is rather impressive,” he glanced around the monitor with a smirk. There was scrutiny in his blue eyes as bore into mine through his designer glasses. I’m sure he was scrutinizing my not so professional appearance. Oh, so, because I dress like a rocker chick and have tattoos, along with my septum pierced, does it mean I am not professional? At least, that’s what I assumed he was thinking of me, anyway. This guy’s hotness factor dropped a couple points. “Your credit bureau score is 830. You literally have no debt and you have almost a million in your savings.”

“What other information do you have about me? My blood types? How old was I when I lost my virginity? What positions do I prefer? Or if I am engaging in safe sex or if I’ve had over one partner at the same time?” I burst out laughing, abruptly stopping when he wasn’t laughing with me.

“Frankly, that’s none of my business and irrelevant to this meeting. My business is to see how we can take your successful money management further. Have you considered starting a business or investing some of your substantial savings?” Of course, I haven’t thought of that, nor did I take this whole money thing seriously. It was a simple matter of fact that I was frugal, and I hated spending money.

Rolling my eyes, I responded curtly. “I have no time to start a business, nor do I have any knowledge of how to start my business.”

Hardin jotted down what I was saying, never once looking in my direction. “What do you love to do?” He hummed, then asked a barrage of questions regarding anything centered on spending my substantial savings. “Do you have some kind of passion that you want to invest in orsomething you’ve been saving for?”

“Are you talking about some side project I am able to get to when I’m not working twelve hours a day, five days a week?” He nodded. “I like to stuff my face with chips and salsa, while binge watching whatever I am in the mood for.” What was his problem? Hardin was glaring at me, as if it is any of his damned business what I do on my own personal time. “Oh, I forgot to add that I go right to the gym after work. Two hours of cardio and strength training, six days a week.” I shrugged.

“You could open a chain of gyms.” Hardin recommended, to which I shook my head. Come on, bruh, I have no time to run a business. “Or a tattoo slash piercing parlor.” I shook my head once more, with a sneer developing in the corner of my mouth. This was an arbitrary question based on what he was seeing on the surface. He was coming dangerously close to losing a potential client, perhaps many more with the direction he was going. All I need to do is go on the air and tell my listeners not to use his services. Then his career, not only as a radio talk show host, but a Financial Advisor will be finished for all eternity. I needed to stop thinking so negatively. He was only doing his job and I was jumping to conclusions in my head.

I heavily sighed and rolled my eyes at these ridiculous suggestions. “I will not go into competition with my tattoo artist. I have been using his talent and services since I moved here years ago.”

Hardin pursed his lips, while facing his monitor. It was safe to say he was getting a bit uptight with my attitude. Glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, he asked, “Have I wasted your time? Because that heavy sighing is a bit rude.”

I jumped out of my seat, now even more annoyed. “Look, if I don’t want to waste my hard-earned money opening a business, that’s my decision. How many of your listeners actually use your services? Because, I’m having second thoughts.” I paused before I continued my rant. “In all honesty, I scheduled a meeting with you because I was curious and wanted to put a face to that heavenly voice.” Oh shit, what a great way to show him how vapid you are, Desiree!

“Really?” There was genuine surprise on his face when I told him that. “I thank you for the compliment. But let’s get to business. Have you thought about investing some of this money to, perhaps, double it before you retire?” I nodded, biting my tongue because every time I opened my mouth nothing, but lewdness would slip out. “If you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”

“It’s in the portfolio. How old areyou, Hardin Mills?” Grinning at him, I thought I was being cute.

“You’re only twenty-seven and already have this much saved? Wow, that’s impressive,” he said with sincerity in his voice.

My parents were disciplined about saving money and have been doing so since I got my first job as a Disney Princess at the mall’s Disney Store. I drove the same Junker from high school until after college, trading it in on a motorcycle after I nickel and dimed it to death.

“My father is an accountant, drilling the importance of money and savings into my head. I’ve been saving since I was sixteen. I used scholarships, and my trust fund to pay for college. So, I was lucky not to have student loans once I earned my Bachelor’s in Broadcasting - to which, you can tell by my portfolio, I made the Dean’s List every year of my four-year stint at UNLV.” Perhaps, if I bragged about my four-point two GPA, Mr. Mills would take me seriously.

Hardin leaned back in his chair with a grin. “When did you attend UNLV?” His tone changed, now he sounded like a man about my age.

I had to think, “From 2010, graduated in 2015. Been working here since I graduated. I am sure you know that already, it’s on my-.”

“I know. It’s in your portfolio. Anyway, that’s bizarre, maybe we had the same classes and never realized it. I attended at the same time you did, too. I had a double major, Broadcasting and Accounting, but you’re a couple months younger than I am. Well, not that it really matters, but what a small world,” Hardin said as he loosened his tie, for what reason, I’ve no idea—unless it was nerves, “I listen to your show faithfully.”

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