Chapter5
1055 Words
Gabriel POV
It was claimed that having wealth and influence gave one everything. They are mistaken, though. I'm powerful and wealthy, yet I'm still not whole.
I enjoy winning, increasing the amount of money in my bank account, watching my business succeed, and having ladies in my area of work. However, it's still just material and s*x. Not a thing more. Perhaps I don't have enough gratitude in my life.
My phone rings, and I snap out of my confused state of mind.
"Gabriel!" The voice boomed from the other side. Ben Sanders is here. Before her passing in an automobile accident last year, he was wed to my aunt Daisy Remington. As president of Remington Media, he is employed by Remington Industries. His art hasn't appealed to me. I'm certain I can find a better candidate for that position. Hell, he's not even close to his VP. But in Remington, family always comes first. And he's shown my aunt such devotion. "Ben," I replied sharply. "He's not that horrible, but he's not the best." I don't talk much, family or not. They also know me well enough not to be afraid of me.
"Where are you, son?"
"On the asphalt. I came just now. Ben, is there anything you need from me?
"Yes, exactly! Shanghai, how are you? Is everything OK?
Our most recent purchase from a Shanghai, China-based company was recently completed. Arriving in less than five minutes, I was jet-tired. Jet lag or not, though, talking pointlessly ranks lowest on my list.
"All right. Are you in need of anything? I'll end the call if he responds with more nonsense.
"Yes! In actuality, I'd want to have supper with you. Is it possible for you to visit the Hilton? They have a restaurant where we may have dinner."
"For?"
"Eat dinner and converse. I would like to talk to you about a few things. About the "embezzlement in Remington Media," he said, lowering his voice.
All of my concentration suddenly becomes active. I detest having cockroaches at my place of work. And for months, there has been a problem with the one at Remington Media. They were still unable to locate the insect.
"You found it?"
"Very nearly. I had to speak with you because of this. Super? Seven?"
"Ok."
***
It was 6.45 p.m. when I got to the motel. I never, ever arrive late. I put on my outfit. If you work in show business and you live in this city, you have to look your best. I'm not a singer or actor—that's Christian Remington, my cousin. However, I lead a multimillionaire entertainment firm as CEO. I find the financial media press and gossip rag paparazzi to be fascinating.
My uncle is still not here, as expected. I'm shown to the table for two by the waiter. Ben had made reservations for it already.
"Give me some vodka."
"Right away, sir."
As I look around the room, I come across a woman's back. In the bar, she is seated by herself. What a physique! Her beautiful, strawberry-blonde hair is so loose and wavy that it almost reaches her waist. Although her backless black dress, which ends just above her knees, seems acceptable, I want to pull it off of her. What a jerk! Her ass is really attractive.
I might go there only to see her face if I don't have this meeting. Is her body alone so seductive as sin? Or her face, too—when she turned to look around the room, I forgot to breathe. Her cosmetics seem flawless. Like most women, she put on some cosmetics. The eyes were smoky, but not too much. Some ladies will look like pandas if they apply too much smokey eye makeup. Her turquoise eyes, framed by lengthy lashes, give her an even more flawless appearance. Jesus, that lipstick on her! What a sin that lipstick is! My eyes are drawn to her lips because of the crimson lipstick. I can't help but see that full lip on my neck, in my mouth—"Gabriel!" I'm startled out of my somewhat xxx-rated reverie by Ben's booming voice. What's the matter with me? As if I didn't already have enough beautiful women, their attractive bodies, and red lipstick.
I go up and give him a "Ben" handshake. Overly formal? I mean, we're not that close. I simply can't bring myself to approach him more closely.
"You must be tired!" He takes a seat across from me. I shrug, looking around for that woman, but she's not there. And I have to turn my gaze back to Ben so I can concentrate on him. Ben is fifty years old. Still, he always wears excellent clothes. When did I last see him wearing a polo shirt? I think I never saw him like that; even at family gatherings, like when we had lunch at my grandmother's place, he was still dressed in his t-shirt and pants.
We receive the menu from the server. And now I understand that while I was staring at (or drooling over) that enigmatic woman, he had already placed the vodka in front of me.
We wait for the server to depart our table after placing our food order. I tilt a little forward. "So Ben... what about the news?"
"Hey! Please. At least let me finish my drink first. I'm not even holding a glass." Exactly! I don't like him because of this. He always talks too much and tries to make it. I'm not sure what would make me think we are close. As if I'm here to listen to his nonsense or something.
When the wine is served, Ben takes a sip. "Good," he remarks. As if he never enjoyed a fine wine.
"I'm worn out from travelling, Ben. If you could inform me about the embezzlement as soon as possible, it would be appreciated." I've had enough of your BS.
He responds, "Ok, ok," and straightens his posture. Alright! "I've been observing our newscast for some time now. I discovered that our spending was excessive. Additionally, I discovered that several of our employees use used items but bill us for new ones."
"And?" We've already talked about this previously.
"Oh, you notice?" He asks as thoug
h I've never heard of this before.
- Writer
