But deep down, I can’t shake the feeling that I will end up making a mistake. And that I will pay for it.
5
AMON
“Two hundred and twenty-five, baby!”Chuck cheers, popping a bottle of champagne beside me. Normally, I have a no-drink and no-girls rule for the office, but today, I’ve made an exception.
The rest of my best traders cheer, raising their glasses to be filled as Chuck does some terrible dance that I should fire him for.
I puff my cigar and watch the madness spill out into the conference room where a handful of exotic dancers shake their asses from the table.
Not the most professional atmosphere at work today, and I should stop it, but even the women who work for me are getting into it, tossing dollar bills like rappers in a music video.
I should be just as psyched. This trade is already being talked about by every other fund on the street. Anyone left who may have doubted me has been silenced.
For some reason, today’s win feels empty, lacking, superficial. I can’t stop myself from thinking about Joan.
What’s she doing right now? I left a list of things for her. Is she sweeping the upstairs? Cleaning the bathtub? Doing my laundry?
She took her punishment well. And last night, when I caught her staring into the closet, I saw thatthingin her eyes—that unexplainable flicker of desire yet unrealized.
She’s still holding back, and I don’t know how long I can keep myself from claiming her.
“We’re the big boys now!” Chuck hollers, shifting his dance to something even more ridiculous.
He notices me still sitting at my desk and quickly starts whispering to one of the dancers.
Oh, God. Not this.
Leading her by the arm, he walks her right into my office like a personal gift. She’s pretty, and wearing black lace stockings, a G-string, and a lace bra that looks like it could fall off at any moment.
“Candy, meet Amon Bleakson,” Chuck smirks proudly. “He’s the head honcho here at Bleaks Capital.”
“Oh, is he?” Candy asks, stretching a leg over my desk. She leans in, battering me with the scent of cheap perfume. “You must be quite the guy.”
“Chuck?” I snap, leaning around her.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Get her out of here.”
Candy stiffens. She certainly wasn’t expecting that. She’s used to men fawning all over her—paying for her attention. But that’s not me. Especially not now.
“You sure?” she asks, but Chuck quickly hurries her from the room, stuffing some more ones in her G-string. He closes the door behind her and turns to me.
“The hell’s wrong with you?”
Chuck’s the only guy in the office I’d let talk to me this way. He’s been loyal since day one, but right now, even he can see my mind is elsewhere.
“Leave it alone,” I respond, my voice low.
“Since when are you one to turn down champagne and babes?” He smirks.
I turn away from him, my brain spinning back to the house, tugging at me like invisible chains. Like inevitability. I thought I’d crushed all romantic feelings inside me. They make you weak, soft. I haven’t touched any of the dancers, but just being in their presence has me feeling guilty.
“Ridiculous…” I mutter.
“What’s that, boss?”
