Chapter 9: Lover Boy
Amber light spilled out of the room as Max walked in. The room was larger than he anticipated. It was a private lounge occupying the entire corner of the floor. The floor-to-ceiling window overlooked a view of the city where thousands of glittering lights looked like stars.
Thick carpeting muffled his footsteps as he walked in. There were shelves in the room displaying sculptures, books, and bottles of liquor that probably belonged in a museum rather than behind glass.
The seating was arranged in a circle. It occupied the center of the space. The seating was far enough away from each other that it afforded them the chance for private conversation if needed, without being isolated.
Sofas curved around marble tables where untouched appetizers and crystal glasses were placed.
Designer handbags had been dropped onto empty chairs, and coats hung on the backs of sofas. One woman had just finished removing her coat. It seemed they had arrived not long before him.
Their eyes turned briefly to Max. This wasn’t their first meeting.
"Ladies, gentlemen," he said as he walked past them to a lone woman sitting on one of the sofas.
Max made sure to be on his best behaviour. Rebecca enjoyed holding the reins in their relationship. She did hold the reins. Even after a year, when he was in public, he needed to mind his manners.
There was a time she even forced him to take etiquette lessons.
Laughter flowed freely in the room. Tonight wasn’t about business. It was a group of friends having a good time.
Stepping closer to Rebecca, Max saw what she was wearing. She had forgone the usual battle attire, her pantsuits. Tonight, she was wearing a dress. It hugged her curves in all the right places.
It was low cut, the swell of her bosom visible.
He swallowed unconsciously as he looked at her body. Even at 49, the woman was a bombshell. He didn’t need to be invited; he took his coat off and sank into the seat beside her. He filled her empty champagne flute, then his own.
"Am I late?" he whispered.
Rebecca checked her watch, then stroked his cheek. "Not at all. Right on time. We have only just arrived."
She turned her head back to the conversation, and Max listened.
"Pat, I heard the Haxon deal fell through. What happened?"
The woman who spoke was someone Max knew intimately. She was one of the people he spent some time with. It never amounted to anything, but she was a good lay.
Patricia waved her hand dismissively, her diamond bracelet catching the light. "The regulatory board wants a forty percent cut. I told them to screw themselves. Forty percent, my ass. We’re pivoting to the XX market. Let’s see what they do when they start losing money."
Dawn, the woman who had asked about the deal, leaned in. "I heard the port situation is a nightmare. But bribing the right people gets you smooth sailing."
"I’ve heard that Mr. Dax is a safe bet."
The table goes quiet for a moment. Max looks over at the man. He learned a long time ago that his input wasn’t necessary in settings like these. He guessed that this one was new. He didn’t know that he shouldn’t speak unless directly spoken to.
Dawn turned to him, her smile was tight but patient. She pats him on the knee, not patronizingly, but letting him know that it isn’t his time to speak.
Max watched him purse his lips. He said nothing, only reaching for an appetizer and feeding it to Rebecca. She looked at him briefly, giving him a nod. He leans back on the sofa and drinks his champagne.
Hyla laughed into her glass. She wasn’t being rude. Max knew it, but it didn’t mean that man knew. Max watched his brows knit together and said nothing. Tonight, he was a pretty decoration. A decoration worth $5000.
He watched Rebecca take a sip of her champagne, his eyes flickered.
"Dawn," Hyla said. "That was mean."
Dawn patted his thigh again without looking. "Not mean, realistic. He’s here to look pretty and pour wine." She tipped her chin towards the man sitting beside Hyla. "Speaking of looking pretty, I see you’ve found a good one. Love the arms."
Hyla traced a finger down the arm of the man sitting beside her. "I know, right. I saw him without a shirt at a gym nearby and offered him a job on the spot. He’s been...training me really well."
"I bet he has," Rebecca replied. She took another sip of her champagne, and a hand landed on Max’s thigh.
Patricia leaned into the man sitting beside her. She whispered something into his ear, and Max watched as his hands found her waist.
Their eyes met across the table. He gave Max a small nod, then kissed Patricia’s neck.
Inwardly, Max couldn’t help shaking his head.
The poor sap has fallen in love. He didn’t know how long the guy had been doing this. Max could only assume it hadn’t been long.
The first thing he learned when he got into the game was not to fall in love with these women. They don’t want love. They want obedience and good dick.
Ignoring it was the best thing he could do.
The night carried on, and the women became more flirty and touchy. He watched Dawn, Patricia, and Hyla become more and more outrageous.
The one who was scolded earlier had Dawn on his lap, feeding her drink. The one with the arms was shirtless, and Hyla was kissing his abs. The one in love, poor guy, they were the boldest. They had found a secluded corner of the lounge.
Patricia’s dress was hiked up, her legs on either side of him. She was leaning into his embrace, and she was rocking back and forth. From the angle, he was sure they weren’t having sex, but fingers were pumping in and out of her.
He became even more certain when he saw the man lick his fingers and kiss Patricia.
Damn, someone’s getting lucky
His eyes fell on Rebecca, who was now leaning on him. He nodded to himself. Later
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