Chapter 4
I’d waited to the last minute possible to show up, intending to be fashionably late as opposed to being rude. I’d learned proper etiquette by watching others. Like the many trust fund babies I’d met in my days as a college kid. Not that most of those guys followed proper protocol. No, it was when I’d been invited into their homes that I’d seen first hand the way things were done. The way their parents wished they’d learned to do things. What I hadn’t learned there I’d researched until I knew all the intricacies of fine dining. It didn’t hold much appeal for me. I was never going to be that person but it paid to know these things. There were still some left who thought the young nobody from the streets of New York had no place among them. I gave less than a fuck what they thought. I let my money and my success speak for me but this was my way of showing them up. Of showing them that although I might’ve had a rough start they were no better than I because they knew which fork to eat a fucking salad with. The higher I went the more I realized how fickle life really was. The things people put stock in was almost comical when you though about it. As long as I had a roof over my head and food on the table that was enough. There was only so much you could do with money after all. But for some that green paper was master of all. Not me, I went after it to serve a purpose but it would never rule me.
I was led to my place setting at the head table where other couples that I’d dined with before at other formal events in the past were already seated. Pleasantries were exchanged and small talk ensued before the show began. Tonight’s entertainment was a fashion show to raise funds for a new wing at the burn center here in the city. It was a worthy cause or I wouldn’t be here and I settled in to be bored. These things were usually set up for the foolishly rich to spend exorbitant fees on their wives and girlfriends or mistresses, sometimes all the above for some. Models would parade on the stage in the latest that some top designer had to offer. Usually fashion that had not been exposed to the public as yet; all so some society maven could boast that she owned an original whatever the name happened to be at the time. I had no one to buy such things for, not on this particular night at least. I’d broken things off with my latest bed partner when she started hearing wedding bells and I started hearing the lock click into place on the chain she was trying so valiantly to put around my neck. Not even close, I had no interest in marrying the beautiful Sabrina. The spoilt daughter of a wealthy Greek tycoon who thought she could use daddy’s money to get whatever she wanted, including me. When I’d broken things off the sweet and biddable debutante had turned into a she cat from hell. Who’d vowed to make me pay for spurning her. I hadn’t seen or heard from her in two months, and since then the bad taste she’d left in my mouth had lingered for so long that I hadn’t had any interest in seeking out a replacement. She had been the last in a long line of many who had thought to trap me with what they held between their thighs, but no such luck. When the time came; if the time ever came I would be the hunter not the prey. I’ve always been fascinated by the women I chose to take to my bed. A good observer would say it was very telling. Only the crème de la crème for the bad boy from the tough streets of the Bronx. It could be that I liked that look of delightful surprise when they saw me unclothed for the first time. When that thin veneer of civility was stripped away and the beast that dwelt beneath the five thousand dollar suits was revealed. Tattoos do strange things to women of a certain class. I don’t know what it is about them, but of the twenty or so women I’ve fucked since college every last one of them would juice like a ripe peach at just the sight of my ink. It wasn’t something I advertised; they never knew it was there until my shirt came off around about the second date. Which is about as long as it took me to decide if we were going to fuck. Why waste time? I savored the quick intake of breath, the hunger that would flash in their eyes and I could almost say what they were thinking out loud. Most everyone who knew me knew my life story. I did not hide it or shy away from my roots. I am what came from that place; it’s something to be lauded not swept under the rug like some dirty little secret. However women as soon as they saw the tattoos, I could see the wheels spinning. Street kid, tattoos, must be a wild man in bed. And that’s before I got them under me to prove to them just how much of a wild man I really am.
“So Stryker I hear you made a killing on the Thompson deal.” Old man Marley was an astute businessman who was one of the last holdouts on the board of a firm that I was vying to take over. That was my little hobby, though I don’t think the people I’d taken over from in the past two years would appreciate knowing that that’s how I saw it. I like to buy companies, revamp them and either sell them for a profit or run them myself with a team that I had set up. Having a head for business gave me the opportunity to have my fingers in many pies so apart from investing I bought and sold. Businesses, homes, land, you name it if there was a price tag on it I could turn a profit.
“Really Samuel must you discuss business?”
I smiled indulgently at his wife who scolded him from her seat next to him. There was no one on either side of me and I wondered if my tablemates were running late or a no show.
“That’s quite alright Mrs. Marley, to answer your question sir I did, now you see what I can do for your company.”
“Listen young man that company has been around long before you were born and I venture to say it will be long after you and I are gone…”
“It’s dying sir, you know it and I know it.”
He huffed at me and was gearing up I’m sure to blast me to kingdom come, but his wife intervened once more. The others at the table were busy with their own conversations and had missed the impending fireworks. I heard her laugh and cringed I hadn’t heard that sound in two months, and would’ve been happy to never have heard it again in my life. She was standing across the room on the arm of some poor sod thank heavens. That meant she wouldn’t make a scene when she realized I was here. I hate scenes, she’s another reason I’d been avoiding public appearances truth be told. Not that I was hiding from her heaven forbid, but I found confrontations trying and time consuming. When something was over it was over.
It seemed tonight was to be my unlucky night because no sooner had the lights started to dim heralding the beginning of the show, than none other then Sabrina was seated to my right with her date next to her on the other side of her. She didn’t seem too surprised to see me and I wondered if she’d had something to do with the seating arrangements. There was no time to change and I wouldn’t have even if there were. Fuck her that would be the day when I ran from a woman. If she’d meant to strike up a conversation she was waylaid by the emcee announcing the start of the show.
I turned my attention to the stage and blocked all thoughts of the unwelcomed presence beside me. As was to be expected the fashion was geared towards the women in the crowd. I paid scant attention to the show, as there was nothing of interest for me. Mom wasn’t into such things, though she had a closet full of designer wear that I buy her whenever I’m away on one of my travels to Europe. Other than her I had no one to shop for. The lingerie was first up, tastefully made and presented of course. I don’t know too much about such things I like my women naked. The dressing is nice to look at of course but I much prefer what’s underneath. She was the third to come on stage, tall statuesque and a total knockout. I have to admit to being blindsided. She had the kind of beauty rarely seen anywhere except an airbrushed magazine. But this was no superficial mannequin this was raw beauty in the flesh. My first thought was that I wanted to kill every man in the room that had eyes on her and there were plenty. Old, young, married single I was sure they were all gazing at the beauty who stood so tall and proud as she stopped at the end of the stage before turning to make her way back. I didn’t even see what she’d been wearing all I’d seen was her. I sat through the rest of the show numb. As anyone would be who had just been struck by a lightning bolt. When the light came up I released the breath I’d been holding. It was then I caught the glare from the w
oman sitting next to me. She knew, how could she not? She’d shared my bed for a few months not too long ago. I’d venture to say she knew my look of hunger very well. But she’d never been at the end of one quite so ravenous before, not from me at any rate. It didn’t matter nothing else really did in that moment. I wanted to leave the table right away and go backstage to find her but etiquette would not allow. There were other ways of finding out who she was, and before the night was over I vowed to have that information. Not since my days on the streets had I felt such hunger, such need. I had no interest in the conversations going on around me. Women were cooing over their bids as their husbands looked on dotingly. I heard none of it, my mind completely occupied by thoughts of my plan of action.
It was time for dinner but I had no taste for it. I wanted gone from here as soon as possible so I could find her. She would be from one of the fashion houses of course so that is how I would find her. Or so I thought until I heard a soft voice address the table before the seat next to me was pulled back and the vision sat next to me.
“Sorry I’m late everyone it was a madhouse back there.”
“No apologies needed Nadia you were magnificent as usual.” The lady two seats down and across from me smiled at her. Nadia.
Chapter 5
I climbed out of bed and headed for the shower, my trip down memory lane over. I wondered how my dutiful wife had spent her first night back home in her empty bed. I got dressed in my favorite work attire a bespoke suit from Gieves and Hawkes. For work all my clothing came from the fashionable Savile Row of London. For playtime I went for the more relaxed casualness of a Prada or a Gucci. Downstairs Elsa the housekeeper was already busy in the kitchen with my usual morning fare of freshly squeezed juice and fresh fruit. There was no sign of my runaway wife at the table. I guess she’s decided to hide out.
“Good morning sir, your breakfast is ready will the mistress be joining us this morning?”
“I’m not sure why don’t you go up and find out.”
“As you wish.”
She was smiling again this morning. The two women had grown close, and for the last two weeks the housekeeper had been a bit less lively because of the absence of her mistress as she calls her. I of course had not divulged any information one way or the other. I wasn’t going to lie, and besides the newspapers had been rife with speculation about a split between us when it was discovered that she was flying solo. We’d never been apart in the time we’d been married, not even when I travelled for business. She’d given up her career as a model the day we got married at my request. I didn’t want my wife showing herself to other men. Travelling around the world for shows and all the other stuff that came with a highly demanding modeling career. Old fashioned I know but that’s the way I wanted it; her charms and her beauty were all mine. She hadn’t been too torn up about it. Nadia had been only too happy at the prospect of settling down and starting a family. She was twenty-three when we met and had been modeling since the age of fourteen. The daughter of an Egyptian nurse and a Greek shop owner, she’d been discovered while vacationing in her father’s home of Corfu. Her family hadn’t been wealthy by any means but the success of the young girl had propelled them into a new world.
We visit them at least once a year and they spend the holidays with us every year because that’s what she wanted. We were never one of those jet-setting couples; there was no partying all night into the wee hours of the morning. We spent most of our free time at home together with the occasional night out. Weekends were spent away somewhere usually of her choosing. I think it was her difficulty in falling pregnant that had first started her discontent. No matter how I told her that these things happen when they’re supposed to, she worried and worried about it until she made herself miserable. I on the other hand was quite happy with things the way they were. I was more than happy to let things happen in their own time. Enjoying the pleasure of having my young beautiful wife all to myself. Not that I didn’t want kids, I do, but I was in no hurry. Nadia on the other hand seemed to think that it was an affront to her as a woman. That somehow I was going to leave her if she couldn’t give me a son. No doubt something else she’d learned from her mother. Don’t get me wrong I adore my mother in law Bettina but the lady has some very antiquated ideas. Most of which she’d passed on to her daughter. For all her high-flying life as a model, she was still a very sheltered girl when I met her. Which is one of the reasons I fell so hard for her that and the fact that she was the most beautiful creature in the world.
Elsa came back down the stairs five minutes later with a slight frown on her face.
“She’ll be right down sir.”
“You two enjoy your morning I’m off.”
I stood up from the table and headed for the hall entrance where I’d left my keys the night before. I met up with her coming down the stairs. She was dressed casually in jeans and another one of those silk blouses she prefers. It didn’t matter, casual or refined elegance she was still the most beautiful flower in the garden. And you’re such sap Stryker. I had all intentions of bypassing her and going about my business; after all she hadn’t been here to say goodbye to for the past fourteen days had she?
“Good morning Gabe.” She’s the only one who calls me that except my mom. Everyone else prefers my last name as they said it suits the man more.
“Good morning Nadia.” I kept going even though I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss the hell out of those pouty lips. Her breasts looked full and ripe beneath the silk and I felt my body react. I tamped down the impulse and called myself ten kinds of fool for letting her still have this power over me after what she’d done.
“Are you ever going to talk to me?”
“Not now Nadia I have a meeting in an hour and I’m already running late.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“I heard you sweetheart only your sorry isn’t going to be enough. Look, now is not the time I don’t want to have this conversation as I’m heading out the door and I certainly don’t want to hash out our dirty laundry in front of Elsa.”
“Should I come to the city for lunch then?”
“No I’ll be too busy for that, I’ll see you later.” I caught the flash of pain in her eyes but steeled myself against it. No way was I letting her off the hook that easily. I walked out the door before I did something stupid. I sped down the driveway, not even looking in the mirror to see if she was watching from the top step, which was her usual habit. I’d programmed myself in her absence to not put too much stock in the little things she’d done before she’d taken flight and left our family home for parts unknown. She’d fucking gutted me and I’d vowed to never give her that kind of power over me again. There was no excuse in the world she could give me for her behavior that I would accept. We were husband and wife, a team. We were supposed to be together in all things; when part of that team decides to play renegade without regards to the feelings of the other, they’re no longer considered a team. This was her doing she’d made the choice. My own mother had cried because she hadn’t even had the decency to say goodbye. We’d worried together for two days and nights, not knowing where to look when we’d exhausted all our resources and no one could tell us where to find her. I’d felt like a million kinds of fool asking people if they knew where my wife was. Oh no, she wasn’t getting off that fucking easy.
Chapter 6
I got caught up in work and didn’t have any time to dwell on personal matters. The company I’ve been trying to acquire had just folded under the pressure of my onslaught. The president of one of my top competitors had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar months ago, and the ship was sinking fast. A good many of their clients had already been heading my way. But the company had been one of good standing before all this mess and I thought it would be prudent to merge the two and take over their operations. That way, the honest workers who might be out of a job if the SEC closed their doors could hold onto their jobs, not to mention their pensions if the deal went through.
With the acquisition of this particular firm, I would be closer to my dream of a multi armed financial service: Insurer, brokerage, and investment banking. I’d set my sights on the century and a half year old company before all the fireworks but they’d been playing hardball. Now with their weakened stance I was about to gain it for a song compared to the hundreds of millions it would’ve cost in the beginning. Today by end of day the deal will be signed on the dotted line. It didn’t matter to me that the president of said company was none other than Stephan Aristobulus, father of my one time lover Sabrina. I never mixed business with my personal affairs; it just so happened that he’d been handed the company some ten years earlier and had since driven it into the ground. The once outstanding firm had been slipping in the ranks for the past six or seven years and had come to my attention a year and a half ago. That’s when I’d started my takeover campaign, but they’d held out this long. There was speculation in the financial papers that I’d been behind the whistle blowing but that’s not the way I do business. Had I been privy to that information I might’ve used it to my advantage. It’s business after all but I would most likely have gone to the board. I fought dirty yes but I liked to keep my hands clean.
My phone rang in the office and I answered as I perused the contracts in my hands.
Stryker Page 2
