Wanted By A Billionaire

“All right! Have it your way, then. I know that there’s someone out there who will sweep you off your feet.”

“Till then! I’m not interested in any of these scumbags,” Chalondra countered. She and Natasha spoke about some random things for some minutes before saying their good night’s to each other and ended the call. At this, Chalondra sauntered aimlessly around her apartment for a bit before she took her laptop and began checking the inventory of those who had checked into the hotel that day and who was checking in at that moment. As she did this, she knew that her position as the new hotel manager would attract more responsibility; she would work longer hours.

It’s excellent; I’ll get something to distract me and occupy my mind always. That will fill in for the periodic loneliness I sometimes feel.

However, would working longer hours stop the constant lonely feeling? One had to wait to watch events unfold.

*****

“Brandon, bring the Aston Martin out of the garage. It’s time to go home,” David Murray, CEO of Murray & Co, said into his phone as his driver replied, “Yes, sir!”.

David checked his wristwatch; the time was 7:30 pm. He had been working so extra hours over the past three months that he barely had time for anyone; Murray & Co was bidding for a multi-billion-dollar deal to construct some high-end houses across the USA; something David wanted badly.

“If Murray & Co doesn’t win this bid, no one else will,” David said determinedly under his breath as he clutched his briefcase and walked out of his office towards the elevator. Brandon already parked the Aston Martin in front of the company’s premises when David walked out of the elevator moments later.

“Thank you,” David said curtly to Brandon as he stepped into the passenger side. In no time, Brandon drove the Aston Martin out of the company’s premises and towards David’s palatial apartment located in the heart of Napa Valley.

As they drove on into the brightly lit night, David rolled up his sleeve and looked out into the night. It’d be great to have a curvy Brazilian model warm my bed tonight, he thought as he cracked his tired knuckles. He knew that what he needed was a thorough massage. However, a one-night stand could do a man no harm, could it? he thought as Brandon overtook an eighteen-wheeler truck. He looked at himself and realized he would be thirty-eight in June.

Wow! I’ve come a long way. Of his five siblings, he was the one who had never considered Mr. Craig Murray – his dad –  much of a threat; his other siblings were in awe of him.

David laughed softly to himself as he remembered how he had come home a week after his convocation from the University of Pennsylvania and had announced to his dad in his office, “Dad, I’m joining the NBA. I’m not interested in doing real estate.”

“What! You must be kidding! To join basketball after your expensive education at the University of Pennsylvania? You will do no such thing!” his dad had thundered. However, at the age of twenty-three, he had gone into the NBA without his family’s support and had played for the Lakers as a point guard for seven years before hanging his boots.

Although his dad had been reluctant at first to reabsorb him into Murray & Co, he had made a name for himself as a basketball player and earned the deserved respect from his dad.

I guess Dad considered that, he thought as he remembered that despite making a name for himself, his dad had insisted that he start from the bottom of the ladder.

“Be careful there; you’re speeding already,” David said to Brandon.

“All right, sir,” Brandon replied as he slowed down a bit. As Brandon drove on, David remembered all the sacrifices he made before his father was convinced that he was worth his mettle. At that moment, his phone beeped; who’s that? he wondered as he checked his phone. It was a message from one of his mistresses, Natalie.

Hey Handsome, I’ve missed you sorely. When are you around? The message read as it ended with a wink emoji.

“Oh, Natalie!” David smiled and rolled his eyes; of all his mistresses, Natalie was the one who loved s*x the most; she liked it rough, and whenever he was with her, they always had countless rounds of s*x. I’ll call her later. I’ll tell Chelsea to give me a body-massage when I get home, he thought. He had employed Chelsea as his cook and occasional massage therapist. In any case, he rarely ate at home and seldom needed a massage; he got enough from his mistresses.

Well, she’s going to work for her pay’s worth today, David decided as Brandon inched closer to his apartment.

“Sir, I’ll be going on leave next week. My wife is due next week,” Brandon announced.

“All right, remind me to disburse your leave allowance,” David replied as Brandon nodded in the driver’s seat.

“Thanks, sir,” Brandon said as he turned the last roundabout leading to David’s apartment. Soon enough, they were in front of the automatic gates that opened of their own accord.

“Park the car in the garage and drop the keys inside,” David said to Brandon as he stepped out of the car and into the house. At this, Brandon drove the car into the underground garage. Once inside his apartment, he called out, “Ms. Chelsea!”

“Yes, sir?” The stocky woman responded from the kitchen as she sped into the living room. She knew better than to let the temperamental David call out to her more than once.

“I want a full body massage, now! I feel so tired,” he said as he stretched his body and cracked his knuckles once again.

“All right, sir. Let me get the spa room ready.”

“Sure, get on with that,” David replied as he sat on the couch and took the T.V. remote. He scrolled through the channels for a bit before he turned off the T.V. and went up the stairs to his bedroom, where he discarded his clothes and stepped into the shower. Minutes later, as he stepped out of his room and down the stairs, Ms. Chelsea was at the foot of them. “The spa room is ready, sir; if you may join me there for the spa session,” she said as she gestured towards the opened door in the south wing of the living room.

“Of course,” David said as he stepped into the spa room. Minutes later, as Ms. Chelsea applied some spa lotion on his back and began the massage, he let out a sigh of relief. At this, Ms. Chelsea took the cue and intensified the massage, and David let out more satisfied sighs. They were halfway into the spa session when David’s phone rang. At first, he decided to ignore the call, but on the tenth ring, he checked the call I.D. It was his mom. What’s Mom calling for?

“Hello, Mom,” he said as he picked up the phone.

“How are you, son?”

“I’m doing good, Mom.” He knew that all the pleasantries were heading someplace. He had not been close to his mom, and they had a strained relationship. Whatever it was that his mom wanted must be quite important.

“I just wanted to know how you were doing.”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“Great. I wish you all the best with the contract you are working on.”