"The Lounge Singer"
The familiar sound of Scott's alarm clock interrupted his peaceful slumber. He slammed his head on the snooze button, his mood instantly sour.
Slowly opening his eyes, Scott sat up with a grunt. He planted his feet on the wooden floor, a chill wiggling down his spine.
Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he yawned.
Another boring day at work, he thought.
Having to get ready for work, Scott himself off the bed and sauntered to the bathroom.
After finishing his personal hygiene, he put on a black designer suit and some new expensive dress shoes. He made sure his hair was combed neatly, grabbed his satchel, phone and was soon calling the elevator to his penthouse.
Scott wasn't very hungry but planned to stop by Starbucks to get some coffee.
The elevator arrives, and when the doors open, he comes face to face with his wife, Celia. The strawberry blonde held a cupholder with two Starbucks drinks and a box of donuts with her Michael Kors purse hanging from her wrists.
"Glad I got here before you left," she smiled brightly at the sight of her handsome husband.
Before Scott could reply, she planted a kiss on his lips. Then scanned his expressionless countenance worriedly. "You don't look so well. Baby, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Scott answered bluntly.
Though in reality, he wasn't sure what he was. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't said either.
"Just a little tired," he lied, trying to ease her worry.
Celia bit her lip, walking away, and he followed.
"I'm sure you are, after last night. Baby, you were on fire."
Scott frowned before quickly smiling when she turned to glimpse at me.
He completely forgot about last night.
"Well, you know I gotta keep up with you these days," Scott joked with a slight chuckle.
Celia laughed as they entered the kitchen. She sits everything on the counter.
"Coffee? Donuts? What's the occasion?" Scott asked because, typically, she is asleep this early in the morning.
Celia took one of the cups out of the holder and gave it to him. He sipped the hot beverage as she wrapped her arms around his waist, her hazel eyes enamored.
"Well, you made your first investment. I know we celebrated last night, but the celebration isn't finished. At least till next week. My parents are coming over for dinner tonight, and your Dad is throwing you a party this weekend. So until next week, you get special treatment."
"Lucky me," Scott said sarcastically.
Celia noticed his cynicism and frowned, pulling away. "You know, you seem to be the only one not excited about your investment. This is a big deal, Scott. You've worked so hard for this."
Scott sighs, setting his coffee down.
He wouldn't say he worked hard. It's more like having his father on his back helped him work to get some relief.
"I didn't work hard. It was peer pressure from my father," Scott snorted.
"Sometimes you need the pressure to accomplish things," said Celia. "And just because you got a little push from your father doesn't mean you didn't work hard. Your father didn't get that investment for you, nor did he force you to do it." She pointed to his chest. "You simply did it on your own, and for that, you should be proud of yourself."
