Love Circle

TRENT-(POV) I walked into my office with my briefcase and with vast strides. All my employees moved forward to greet and welcome me, all eyes looking up at me with awe and admiration. I was used to it, so their attention did not bother me. The women all tried to get my attention one way or the other as I passed by them. Some adjusted their pose. Some bent their bodies to reveal their cleavage, and some secretly rolled their skirts to show their laps. Others were bold and came up to me with some excuse about their work and then, in the end, would not say anything tangible. They had just wanted to be close to me. I could not blame them, though; I was rich and handsome. The men, on the other hand, tried to suck up to me for their gains, yet I could tell they hated me and were jealous of my quick success and the fact that so many women at the office had fallen for me. My P.A., Rogers awaited me when I arrived at my office. He collected my suitcase and then said to me as I entered the office, "A man had been here even before I arrived this morning. He has since been waiting for you. He said he wanted to see you for an important reason. He was here before but left the waiting lounge to get some things. He promised to be back as soon as possible. Should I send him away, or do you want me to make an appointment for him with you?” “No, send him in as soon as he returns,” I reply, walking into my office and sitting on my chair to begin work. I worked for a while before getting up and walking to the glass windows of the highest building in the city. I stared out the window of my office, sipping my coffee slowly. I had just completed the last of my work and was free. I could see the whole city from where I stood. My office was on the skyscraper's top floor and surrounded by glass windows and doors. If I went very close to the window, I could look down and see people hurrying about like ants, rushing to work, riding in old rickety cars, trying to beat the traffic. This sight always made me chuckle. Those people I looked at daily were hopeless, people who worked their whole lives for a small pension. Some just wanted to work and save up for their kids’ college, a decent retirement home, or to spend some stupid vacation on an island. ‘Silly dreams,' I thought. I hated how content they were with their lives, jobs, and families. My parents had always yelled into my ears how I must never settle for less. They told me that nothing was better than money in this world. Not even love came close. They told me how they had grown up as poor people and had become rich at all costs. So when love stood in the way of my success, I knew which one to let go of love. I let go of love and stayed with money. I had done the right thing, hadn't I? Yet, I did not know why I felt so empty inside. Money could not fill the void I had inside, from losing the love of my life because of the love of it. Still, I believe choosing the business and my parents' wishes were the best things I ever did. I continued watching the ordinary people running around the streets from my office. I sneered. These people were not even ready to change anything. If asked about their lives, they would say they were content and happy. They enjoyed doing the same thing every day, the routine they had developed after years and years of boredom. I always wonder why anybody would be content with anything and why some people do not even try for more. I had met some, and what they would say is: “Trent dear, money and status are not all there is in life; what matters is that you are happy. Haven’t you ever wondered what it is like to fall in love?” Fall in love? I know what it feels like to fall so deep in love you believe you will always be together with that particular person. I also know how much it hurts when that special person leaves you and how your life will never remain the same. I picked a framed picture of my ex-fiancée, the woman I was still in love with, Janice. I looked at it and sighed with regret. If only he could turn the wheels of time. The man who had come to see me entered a few minutes later. We shook hands. As soon as we withdrew our hands from each other, I felt a strange vibration in his hand. But I did not take it seriously. The man told me he was there to discuss a business proposal with me. “Really? I thought you said you needed to see me,” I said. Why didn't the man just let my assistant know, and then they would go through the standard procedure? Does he think he could just come to my office and throw his wishes at my face? “I don’t understand why you didn't go through the usual procedure, Sir. You can't just come here and tell me you have a proposal for me. I'm not that accessible. Whatever you think you might be, you must…" $$$ I got outside, got into my car, and drove to my favorite bar. Whenever I had uncomfortable thoughts, I would visit the bar and drink them away. However, I usually controlled how I drank and how much alcohol I consumed because if I got drunk, what if I unknowingly revealed my identity? So when I got to the bar that evening, I greeted my favorite bartender, Miles, and asked for only one bottle of beer. “Big guy! But are you sure you want only one bottle? I know you can't handle alcohol like other men, as you have constantly reminded me, but I still think more than one bottle is not too much for your stature. I chuckled, poured the beer into my glass cup, and downed it. “Well, it's not about stature. You know that, right? A person's stature has nothing to do with their alcohol tolerance. I might have a big size, but I might not have the same alcohol stamina as that dude,” I said, gesturing to a very short man not far from where I was seated. The man was a regular customer of the bar, and at that moment, he had finished drinking three bottles of beer but still looked unshaken. Miles glanced at where I gestured to and, when he saw the man, burst into laughter. “Trent! If you want to make comparisons, use someone else. Dickson sitting there is a 'Top G' regarding drinking and having a very high alcohol tolerance. I have never seen him get so drunk as not to be able to walk out of the bar like the same person before. He was always calm, no matter how much he drank. To me, he's not human!” I chuckled. “I heard he started drinking at eight years old,” someone said behind him. I looked back and saw the lady. Pitch black hair, green eyes, full red lips, a tiny waist, and breasts that looked like they were spilling out of her blouse. It was Lesley, the bar waitress. She stood, carrying a tray with an empty used glass, which she had probably just taken from a customer. She came to me and smiled. “Hi, handsome. I didn’t know you'd be coming to the bar today.” I returned her smile. “I didn’t know I'd be coming too.” Lesley chuckled, placed the tray on the bar counter, and sat beside me. “You could have texted me, you know. I could have worn something more appropriate,” she said and winked at me. I chuckled and took another sip of beer. I and Lesley had f****d each other a couple of times in the past. I loved how curvy she was and how good she was in bed. Her bed skills were top-notch, especially what she did with her hands…. Lesley slid her slender hand over mine and looked at me. Then she drew close to me and whispered into my ears. “You can have me today if you want, you know.” I pulled away. “Nah, I just want to drink today,” I replied. Lesley was about to repeat something when a customer ordered more beer, and she had to leave. She winked at me again before she went off to attend to the customer. Lesley was beautiful, and I knew she liked me. And not because I made her scream whenever I was inside her, but because she had feelings for me. I felt sorry for her because she would never mean anything more to him than friends with benefits. The only woman I ever truly loved had thrown her bag of chips over my face, cursed, and walked out on me. Even though I deserved so much more. I also liked her- not in a romantic way. She was different from the other girls I f****d. She was smart and, at least, had a sense of humor than most girls. And even though she had feelings for me, she had never explicitly stated that. She had only made subtle hints that she wanted more than a s****l relationship. But I could not give her that because I could not fall in love with anyone anymore. I continued drinking in small sips until my bottle had become empty. I drank only enough to make me slightly tipsy. I was swirling his cup of beer in slow, circular motions when I heard a loud crash. I looked beside him and saw Sir Dickson arguing with some vast, bald guy with numerous tattoos. They were shouting at each other and pushing the glasses off the table. Before anyone knew it, the bald man had lifted Sir Dickson and smacked him on the table. Sir Dickson yelped in pain while the other drinkers laughed at him. Sir Dickson quickly stood up, his face red with embarrassment, and punched the bald tattooed guy's nose. The man furiously grabbed him after that, lifted him, and smacked him down on the floor. The customer cheered in unison, most drunk and not in their right minds. Miles and Lesley tried to stop the fight but were too afraid to go near the tattooed man. The tattooed man started to beat up Sir Dickson. I tried to mind my business. After all, I was there to drink and not interfere. But when I heard Lesley scream and when I looked back and saw Sir Dicskon's bloodied face and ripped clothes, with the tattooed man holding a knife to him, appearing to want to stab him, I knew I had to intervene. I, after all, learned some fighting skills a few years ago and am a pro at Judo. So I reluctantly stood up and walked to the man. “Let him go.” The tattooed man looked at me like he thought I was mad. “Mind your business, pretty boy, before I make a mess of your rich face!” he threatened. Then he turned back to face Sir Dickson, raising his knife and about to attack Dickson when he felt himself being swung around by a strong hand before receiving a punch on his face that ultimately knocked him out, sending him crashing to the ground. A hush was in the bar as everyone looked at us. By their expressions, I could tell they were all surprised the impact of this vast yet rich-looking man could make the fool fall to the ground. They probably all thought I was going to be the defeated one. I left the bar, a bit pissed, but not without Sir Dickson coming forward and shaking my hand. Sir Dickson shook my hand as vigorously as possible to show his appreciation. “Thank you so much! Thank you so much!” I felt uncomfortable. Everyone was looking at me, and I hated unnecessary attention. I then quickly walked out and left the bar. I was still on my way to my car when I saw a red car park beside me. It looked like the latest edition of that luxurious car that I once saw on the internet. A woman stepped out of it. She wore a long suit that reached her calves and blue jeans. She also had brown and wavy hair. She looked very familiar, yet I did not know where I had seen her before. That was until she turned, and I got a full view of her face. My heart stopped. It was her, the woman I had been thinking about often these days, whom I loved with all my heart and who I missed, who I had once thought I would spend my whole life with, who I had robbed, My ex-fiancee: Janice.