It felt like a giant bird picked me up and dropped me in the middle of the goddamned ocean.
I was in the middle of going through a catalogue of songs from the 90's and I was getting increasingly flustered with the amount of punk rock bands that kept popping up.
Twice I had to remind myself why I was doing this, thrice I had to physically restrain myself from tossing my laptop through the glass wall of my 17th floor office.
I was surprising myself with the intensity of how bad I wanted to find the perfect song. The image of Butterfly's flawless face illuminating with joy spurred me on.
It was then that I finally realized that I was totally and utterly whipped. For anyone else, this would be a ridiculous task to even consider. But for Butterfly spending useful working hours going through rock music was suddenly top priority.
The side door to my office opened and I quickly shut my laptop. I realized how guilty that made me look but I would shoot myself in the head before I let anyone see what I was up to.
It was only Alex who struggled to balance an armful of ring binders and an iPad.
When she got closer I grabbed the iPad from the top of the pile and sat back to look through the contents. Alex let the pile land on my desk with a sigh and swiped a hand through her sweaty brow that had some of her brown hair stuck to it.
I was in the process of scheduling a conference call with our Georgia branch when I felt the heat of a stare.
Looking up, I caught Alex's bright blue eyes trained on me. I hadn't noticed how they seemed to shine with a genuine enthusiasm that the rest of her lacked. And even though I found them sort of pretty, it was becoming creepy how she stared without blinking.
“Alex?” I finally said when I couldn't take our stare-off anymore.
She blinked and as if she'd just glitched, shook whatever that was off before plastering a formal smile on. “Yes?”
“You were staring.”
“Oh that. It's fine, everything's fine.”
I didn't buy it. “Alex?”
She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. “Fine, I'll come right out and ask. Are you ok?”
It wasn't the question that produced the startled look on my face but it was the concern behind Alex's frown and the hint of kindness that surrounded the question.
In all of the four years that she'd been my PA, Alex had never once asked if I was ok. I didn't blame her, I wasn't exactly the kind of guy who made it easy for anyone to ask but now that she'd summoned the courage to ask I feared that the black hole inside me wasn't as effective in keeping the misery inside where it belonged.
True, I hated it because it was the reason I couldn't emotionally connect with anyone but it had its uses in these four walls: it kept the emotions at bay. And with my emotions in check, I could do my business more effectively.
“I'm fine,” I answered with a finality in my tone that suggested that this sort of thing should never repeat itself.
I went back to the iPad but a few minutes later the feeling was back. Jesus fucking Christ!
I looked up again only to find that Alex hadn't moved. In fact, it was like we'd never even talked and I had this weird time-warp, alternate-universe feeling.
Her blue eyes were starting to unsettle me but at the same time I couldn't help but feel like there was something familiar about those stark black pupils. Something that seemed to call out to me.
Before I could put too much thought into it I asked, “Is there anything else?”
She did that reset shudder and plastered her aggravating smile. “Of course there's something else. Why else would I be starting at my boss if there wasn't?” And then she gave this anxious titter that sounded very unfeminine.
I was starting to wonder if I'd finally broke her when she continued, “Actually, I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?”
Since it was obvious she wasn't going anywhere I decided to attend to her. I sent the invite and faced her fully. “Fine, the good news.”
“Well, the land patent you applied for has come through.”
I nodded. “And the bad news?”
She hesitated. “That internal investigation team you hired found out who ‘leaked’,” she made air quotes, “Sophy to your mother and hence to the board. They made a report, it's in one of these,” she tapped the ring binders.
I immediately straightened. “How is that bad news?”
I had outsourced the task of finding the person responsible for snitching and I had been waiting impatiently for some news.
Alex shifted and clutched her arm. Her eyes were averted and I knew she knew something.
“Seriously Alex, what the hell is it? Who is it?”
She shook her head. “It has to be some mistake, I think those phony people have something mixed up. You know I never liked them.”
“Who. Is. It?”
And within five seconds of getting a name I was out of my seat and into the elevator, Alex trailing behind me.
“Carson? What are you planning to do?” Alex asked, planting herself in front of me.
I didn't see her though, my rage was slowly building, making me blind to anything but the numbers slowly counting down to the moment I came face to face with the person responsible for my losing three million dollars and two months of my time. The unfair fact that all this could've been prevented if someone had just shut their stupid mouth helped fan the fire.
One could argue that I was acting childish and impulsive about something I only purchased to add to my growing armada of acquisitions, but the only thing I could think about was my mother's stoic face as I read the notification and how, again, she'd proven that I was nothing more than another employee to her.
“I just need to have a chat with Miss Rollin. That's all.”
The elevator opened and I walked briskly down the bright hall and stopped in front of the door with ‘Julia Rollin’ embossed on it.
I was still quite in shock to find out that it was my Personal Acquisitor that was responsible for the breach of trust.
Reining in my anger I turned the door knob and entered.
As soon as she sighted me the petite woman behind the ornate desk stood up.
“Mr. Miller! What a surprise. I didn't know you were on your way.”
I watched as her eyes flickered to something behind me.
“Believe me, this was very unplanned. May I?” I gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk.
“Of course,” she smoothened her dark purple dress and adjusted her glasses.
I unbuttoned my jacket before taking a seat and crossing my legs.
I was disappointed in Julia because despite what she'd done she was still good at her job and had a work ethic unparalleled to anyone who'd occupied this position which led her to put in an extra 90 percent of what was expected of her.
“So,” I started, going right to the point. “It has come to my notice that you're behind the small issue of Sophy being taken out of my control.”
Her cheeks took on a red shade that rivaled her auburn hair. “About that, Mr. Miller, I can explain . . .”
“So you were aware?” I steepled my fingers.
“Yes, sir, but I had no idea what was going to happen,” her brown eyes flitted behind me before coming back. “Miss Cynthia came over for a chat and . . .”
“You see, Julia,” I interrupted her. “You're my Personal Acquisitor, you get things for me. No one else. Whatever you get is funded by my personal capital, no one elses. Which means it belongs to no one but me.”
She gulped and nodded, her aquiline nose flaring. “I know that, sir, but she's your mother, she'd never been interested in your acquisitions before so I didn't know what to do.”
I nodded. “I understand, Julia.”
She visibly sagged with relief. “You do?”
“Of course. My mother can be a cold, manipulative bitch.”
She nodded and folded her hands on the desk. “I'm so glad that you understand . . .”
“Which is why you're fired,” I stated simply and got up.
All the color drained from Julia's face as I stood up and buttoned my jacket.
“What?” she asked in so low a voice that I almost didn't catch it. “I thought . . . you understood?”
“I understand that you either no longer know the meaning of discreet or you don't appreciate this job anymore. I'll need you out of this building by today. Good day, Miss Rollin,” and with a curt nod I was out of the office.
Now that I finally punished the person responsible it didn't feel very much like a closure and I was really sad about that. I'd thought that finding whoever it was would at least fill some of the void inside and bring some much needed relief, but the only thing I'd succeeded in doing was remind myself of how utterly alone I was in the world.
Alex accosted me as I pressed the elevator button.
“Carson! Please, you have to reconsider. You can't just fire her. She's a widow, with three kids, one's on the way to college, she needs this.”
“She should've thought about that before she crossed me,” was all I said to her panicked expression.
“How many more people are you going to hurt before you let this go? Please, Carson, I'm begging you. You're not cruel, I know you're not. You don't have to do this, don't let this job turn you into a monster.”
That hit me.
Like literally hit me and if I hadn't had my back on the wall, I was fairly certain I would've toppled over.
I didn't know why I was shocked by that.
For some reason her words traveled deep down until its warm, snaky tendrils rippled through my soul and combined with the way Alex's big eyes blinked up at me, like she was expecting something, tears gathering at the bottom lid created a feeling of dissonance that I scrambled to erase.
So I faced her squarely.
“Miss Holdman, unless you want to join Miss Rollin, I suggest you stop begging,” I told her in my sternest voice.
She might be my most valued employee but I wasn't going to be afraid of firing her if she wielded her eyes like weapons again and screwed with my feelings.
I stepped into the now open elevator and for the rest of the ride tried to expunge the defeated look in Alex's eyes.
When Alex finally reentered my office I had gone back to my work, totally abandoning my quest to find the perfect song.
She wore this sullen look that was completely opposite from the feigned cheerfulness she always had on around me and I knew she was genuinely upset.
“Alex . . .” I started because for some reason I felt I had to rationalize my actions.
She straightened at her name and stopped me before I could get another word in.
“You don't need to say anything,” she started. “You're right, I don't want to end up like Julia. I don't know why I keep forgetting that you own this place. That you can do whatever you please,” she gave a short, humorless laugh. “Don't worry, I won't dare forget my place again.”
Then her eyes proceeded to fill with tears and I hoped to hell that she didn't burst into tears. Something about women crying rubbed me the wrong way. I never seemed to know what to do when the waterworks came on.
But as soon as the tears started they receded and the somewhat scary, backbone-made-of-steel Alexandra was back.
I sighed and reached for the rectangular piece of paper beside me. I tossed it to the corner of my wide black desk that was closest to her.
She hesitated but I encouraged her to take it.
Her steps faltered as she came closer and took a look at the paper. Her eyes widened.
“You're right. I'm not a monster, but I'm also rarely forgiving. That is Julia's severence check, plus a little more. That's enough to take three people through college.”
I stood up and put my laptop into my leather briefcase.
“I'll leave the pleasure of handing that over to you. And Miss Holdman? I like my Personal Acquisitiors tight-lipped, I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding a good one.”
I left Alex standing there and entered the elevator.
My office was starting to dig its claustrophobic claws into my spirit so I got into one of my numerous sleek black cars and told the driver to take me to The House on the Hill.
The House was a gentleman's club located in the heart of downtown Miami. Despite it being a gentleman's club, it was open to members of every gender but it was almost impossible to get in and even with that only a few people could afford to maintain the exorbitant membership fees.
Perhaps the only good thing that came from having Miller as your last name was the privileges that were associated with it. My family had stakes in The House, all thanks to a very distant great-great-great grandmother.
I wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but one of the main reasons I stayed as CEO of Miller Inc. despite my mother frustrating my every effort was to challenge the ongoing misandry that was the very foundation of the company.
Since the approximately seventy-five years Miller Inc. was established I was the first male CEO. Ridiculous but true. The men in my family — well those who weren't fortunate enough to die early — were always overshadowed by the women.
I had taken it upon myself to change everything which was why I so easily condoned my mother.
I fiddled with the new Airpods I'd bought just today in an effort to place them in a comfortable position in my ears.
After toying with them for a while with my ears bearing the brunt of the exercise I gave up just as we rolled into the parking lot of the skyscraper.
“We're here, sir,” Mikky, the driver said to me.
I grunted my answer and after fixing a pair of sunglasses over my face I got out and started the short walk to the gilded rotating doors.
The lowest floor of The House was a club and I paid no mind to the flurry of activities in preparation for tonight's party.
As I entered the ‘Member's Only’ elevator I swiped my membership card and waited as the express elevator shot up.
In not more than two minutes I was deposited into the most lavishly decorated parlor one could imagine. We were so high up that all one could see beyond the glass walls were clouds.
Ignoring the way everything from the comfortable couches peppered with throw pillows, to the carpet that absorbed the sounds of my dress shoes to the sparkling bar arranged with a row of bar stools and the equally sparkling chandelier seemed to be inlaid with gold, I walked over to the table furthest from the elevator and any form of human contact.
As I set up my laptop to continue my task a slender hand with garish orange nail polish set a crystal tumbler filled to the right mark with what could only be expensive whisky in front of me.
Tracing the hand up I met the scintillating yellow-brown eyes of Amber. She was dressed in the casual maroon polo shirt that was the uniform of all the workers at The House coupled with a bartender's apron over a skirt that showed the right amount of the caramel skin on her mile long legs.
“Haven't seen you in a while stranger,” her cherry red lips tugged upward.
“Been busy,” I mumbled and raised the glass for a sip of whisky.
“That's a bummer,” she pouted. “I was kinda hoping we would continue our last conversation.”
Then with a sultry smile she rested her hand on mine while her greedy fingers started up my arm.
I remembered that I was in the process of getting her into my bed when the whole Sophy thing went down.
“Amber!” I cautioned and grabbed the hand that was going up my sleeve. Her face froze and she turned a little so her gold name tag flashed in the light from above.
Only when she winced did I realize that I was almost crushing her hand. After tapering my disgust I let her hand go and took off my sunglasses so she could see the building anger in my eyes.
“I'm still busy, and even if I wasn't, I'm not interested any more.”
Her eyes flashed yellow with disappointment and reminded me vaguely of a wolf but she recovered quickly, plastering a confident smile on.
“We'll see,” she whispered. “It was nice to see you, Mr. Miller,” she said loud enough for anyone to hear and walked around me. Sliding her hand up my chest, she disappeared behind me and only then did I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
I wasn't going to fall back into that temptation. Now that I had someone I was actually looking forward to seeing and who accepted me warts and all, I didn't need anybody else.
Downing the entirety of the firewater I went back to previewing some popular pop songs.
I'd spent a considerable amount of time on this and was nursing my third glass of whisky, with my shirt collar open and my jacket thrown carelessly over the back of my chair when I felt a slap on my shoulder.
I fiddled with my custom ‘CM’ cufflinks just as Casper filled the hitherto empty stool beside me.
His brown hair sported curls I didn't know Casper had, his hazel eyes were starting to get a little red-rimmed and his brown suit was incredibly rumpled.
He carried a glass of champagne.
“Are you drunk, man?”
“A little, but I'm sober enough to know that's Dave Cheadle from Alchemist that's on your laptop. Explain to me why you're suddenly interested in pop bands?”
“I will, after you explain to me how you know who the fuck Dave Cheats is?”
“Cheadle and we dated once. The only thing that pretty mouth is good for is sucking on a stiffy,” then Casper scoffed and I proceeded to choke on my drink.
“What? Don't tell me you're one of those homophobic assholes,” he took a gulp of the golden liquid in the flute he was holding.
I made sure the burning in my throat subsized before I replied with, “Of course not. I just didn't know you were gay.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not gay. Bisexual. Dave and I used to be a thing before ‘his management’ decided I wasn't good enough for him because they wanted to ‘upgrade his public image’,” he put air quotes over some of his words and scoffed again. “Anyway, why are you looking through pop albums? I never pegged you for the song loving kinda guy.”
“I'm not . . .”
“Oh, you're trying to impress that girl. What is her name anyway? That DJ girl? At William's party? Don't think I was too drunk to see you two cosying up together. But dude, she's not like the girls you usually go for. She didn't look . . .”
I was going to be damned if I sat here and let this semi-drunk idiot talk shit about how Butterfly looked. Because she was nothing short of angelic.
“Unless you want to add a broken nose to the agonizing hangover you're no doubt going to get later, you better choose your next words carefully.”
His eyes widened and I was glad that even through the veil of liquor he got my message.
“Gee, I'm sorry. I wasn't going to say anything mean. Honest.”
After ruling this conversation as a total waste of time, I went back to my laptop and liquor.
“You must really like this girl if you're willing to painstakingly do something you have not the slightest clue of.”
When I looked up Casper was engrossed with twirling the now empty flute across the black-and-gold table.
Sighing I closed my laptop and flexed my slightly cramped fingers.
“Yeah, well it's not going as well as I hoped. Still not a music guy.”
“Is being a music guy a must to be with her?” Casper asked with an incredulous look on his face.
“No, of course not,” I ran a hand across my face. “But you don't know her. She's fierce, evanescent and I can't help but feel like if I understand the music I could find a place in her world.”
Casper's incredulous look didn't wane. “Either you're forgetting who you are or she's taming you already. Dude, you're Carson freaking Miller!” He hit me on the shoulder. “You make your place in the world. If the music angle isn't working ditch it and find another way to show this girl that she should choose you because you're willing to do anything for her. That is if you are.”
Of course I was.
And just like that an idea was beginning to form in my mind. I looked at the Smart Watch strapped on my wrist and deduced that I still had time to set the pieces together.
“You've given way too good advice,” I said to my hazel eyed friend as I packed up my things. “You should stay away from the booze and bad decisions.”