4: Ruined Plans
1264 Words
Luther’s POV
Passive aggression...
I smirk. It doesn’t work on me.
When she left, she made sure to slam the door so hard that I wanted to scream at her, but I let her go scout free, not typical of me.
She seems a bit grumpy, like she would set me ablaze and watch me burn to the ground if given just a match stick and of course, the chance... But then, she looks cute.
Sadly, she thinks she’s the only one that gawks. While she was on the coffee machine, I took the time to examine her from head to toe.
Petite red-hair, grumpy ass, light brown eyes, sexy plump lips, slender waist, slightly curvy hips, and boobs of an athlete; small but seductive regardless.
I puff. I may be addicted to ladies, but I definitely have taste and class, obviously.
Picking up the thick white mug, I approach the bed and take a greedy slurp before setting it on the bedside table.
Impatiently, I go through the status of the hot blonde I had requested.
Thankfully, the profile had changed from pending to accepted. When she finally shows up, I will send the balance of the money, which isn’t a problem so long as I feel good.
Buzz
My phone vibrates in my hand. I tap the green drop-down icon and then the speaker. I’m alone, and there’s barely anything that could go wrong.
“It’s done.” Robin's voice beams from the speaker.
I laugh wryly. Robin's efficiency is something I commend.
“Good.” I wriggle my nose. “Where are you?”
“Brit’s Lounge, San Diego.” He blurts.
“Getting rid of bad blood, huh?” I scoff.
“You guessed right. I need to set my veins flowing freely.” He laughs, a short deep one. “Any plans for the weekend?”
“Not really, but I sure do have for tonight.” I smile.
Robin is more than an assistant, and it’s amazing how he doesn’t take advantage of our closeness.
“I’ll be with you shortly,” I inform, not seeking his approval. “You’re up for about two hours, yeah?”
“Sure.” He smacks his lips, something he does whenever he’s binging on strong booze.
“Alright.” I end the call.
Going through my call logs, I put a call across to my chauffeur.
“Good afternoon, boss.” He picks up on one dial.
“Get the car ready in ten minutes.” And that’s it.
San Diego isn’t so distant, but I need to be away from this bored and grumpy red-haired ass.
I groan, angry at myself for giving her so much relevance. Settling for a black Gucci polo shirt and faded jean shorts, I hurry out with the small Channel bag I brought.
It all depends on my mood. I may choose to spend the night in San Diego, and even the day after. With none of my belongings in the room, I head out.
Without a word, I slip the green card to my room over the counter.
Her grumpy ass turns away once she sees me, making me laugh in mockery.
“Have a good day, sir. Will you...” Her colleague, with “Regina” written on her name tag, responds to me.
I don’t wait for her to finish and I walk away.
Matthew is just by my Maybach, grinning from ear to ear like a toddler. His mustache is wound up as a result. He opens the door to the backseat and steps aside.
“Brit’s, San Diego.”
I slip in and allow Matthew to do his job before he joins me seconds later, and he starts the trip.
“We’re here, boss.” He announces, distracting me from the brief memo I’m typing on my phone.
Throughout the journey, I was on my phone, rounding off a Zoom meeting with an associate, a mafia boss, like myself. Unlike me, he’s a shark, one ready to swallow you whole so long as it spits billions of dollars.
I press the power button of my Z flip Samsung and get down once he opens the door.
Apparently, Matthew has passed the gate, and he’s now in a large expanse of land with pines and statues of half-nude people. It always sets you in the mood.
Brit’s is just before me, the marble walls and decor as I remember.
“Table 08, South.” My phone beeps.
I look at my phone to see the message from Robin. He’s always on the lookout, there’s a reason he’s called my CCTV and he flaunts it.
The security don’t bother to stop me, as I need no introduction. Instead, they usher me to the lounge.
“Hello.” Robin stands up, his own way of paying tribute.
“Hello.” I smile and sit down.
He does the same and signals to the waitress, who joins us almost immediately.
“Vodka and ice...” He looks at me to confirm my order and I nod. “Two glasses to accompany it.”
“A minute.” The slim waitress walks away, swaying her tiny hips.
She comes back with two glasses half filled with vodka and ice to top.
“Nah.” Robin sighs. “You must be new here.” He expresses his disapproval while scanning her features.
“I’m sorry sir, did I get your order wrong?” She asks calmly.
“I meant a bucket of ice, a bottle of vodka, and two glasses. You should serve us here.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She pouts as if asking him to reconsider.
“Not to worry, I will cover the expenses. Do as you’ve been told.” He orders her.
“Thank you.” She rushes off with the tray of two glasses.
Mike’s consciousness of security is top-notch, and I don’t intrude because I love every bit of it.
She returns with exactly what he asked for and sets them on the table in front of us. Opening the bottle of vodka, she picks one of the glasses that’s bottom up.
“You may leave, just get the bills.” Robin dismisses her.
“Alright.” She sets the glass and drinks down before walking away.
Robin picks up from where she left off. He pours a small amount into each glass and bathes the ice, his way of rinsing the glasses should they be laced.
Then, he proceeds to pour a generous amount into our glasses. When the ice has dripped to his satisfaction, he scoops a few in our glasses.
“Thanks.” I pick up mine and raise it in a cheer.
He picks his too and does the same, not clinking our glasses.
My phone beeps again. This time it’s not a text, but a notification from Global escort services.
With my plans a few minutes from manifesting, I click on it.
’We’re sorry, your private escort won’t be available tonight. She was involved in an accident, and we hate to cancel your request.
As you know, you get a full refund, but we would be glad to make a replacement.’
Fuck!
I don’t want another!
Enraged, I gulp the entire content of my glass with a gulp and clench my teeth from the effects of the alcohol.
Robin looks at me in a weird way, but I don’t indulge him. Just the right time to break her neck or leg in a goddamn accident. I sigh.
What happens to my f*****g pent-up arousal?
- Writer
