The Boss & The Assistant - Rewritten Edition of "The Boss"

Chapter 6 - Lafayette

"Just casual hookups then?" Michael asked.

"Yeah. Is that so bad? Or should I be in a committed relationship with my eighth grade boyfriend?" I asked.

Our drinks were brought over and we waited until the waiter was gone before saying anything else. "Who were you dating in the eighth grade?" Emilio asked.

"Sandy Browning," Michael said, smirking. "You remember her? Head cheerleader?"

"Oh yeah," Emilio said, smiling. "Didn't you break up with her on the very first day of high school?"

"I may have," I said. "It was for the best."

"Why? Because you were fooling around with her older brother?" Michael asked.

I shrugged. "It felt weird, being shared by siblings," I said, drinking my rum and coke with a splash of grenadine.

"Who was that other girl you dated in high school? The gothy girl?" Michael asked.

"Margot," I said. "She dumped me though, realized she preferred girls."

"Have you even been with a girl recently?" Michael asked.

I sighed. "You sure do love invasive questions," I said, taking a bigger sip.

"It's the perks of being friends for almost two decades," Emilio said, grinning. "So, go ahead, answer the question."

"I was with a woman a few months ago, in Paris," I said. "A couple of them."

Emilio shook his head, smiling. "Sometimes your whorish ways make me miss our whorish days," he said, looking at Michael. They took a break when they were twenty-two where they each spent about a year and a half perusing random hook ups until they realized how much they missed each other. So they were in a committed but open relationship for about two years until they got tired of other people and became monogamous.

"Yeah you say that until you have to clean up after a bunch of dramatic bottoms throwing up and/or crying in your bathroom," Michael said.

"True, now I only have one of those to deal with," Emilio said, smiling at Michael, making him roll his eyes but smile, too.

Sometimes when I saw them together it made me long for a committed and loving relationship. Liam and I barely even stayed the night together. I had such an erratic sleep schedule that it was rare to truly wake up with someone next to me in the morning. I've woken up next to a few random hook ups in the middle of the night, but that's not the same as waking up next to someone I know, who kisses me in the morning, who stays for breakfast. It was only a fantasy, nothing more.

The remainder of the meal I let them do most of the talking. I focused on eating my food. I had a baked potato with sour cream, shredded cheese, bacon bits along with a ribeye steak, a side of steamed broccoli, and a roll. I knew my stomach would probably be upset later but I enjoyed food. Eating was a consistency in my life. I wanted to eat good food. When we finished our meals, Michael and Emilio departed for their townhouse. I decided to not stay in the office. It had been almost two weeks since I last stayed in my townhouse.

I lived about ten or fifteen minutes from the office, if traffic was decent. The office was on 40th Street in the Garment District, with a decent view of Bryant Park from my office. My townhouse was on Central Park West, kind of seven stories tall, kind of eight if you include the basement. The front side had a balcony that overlooked Central Park. A den was on the first floor past the foyer, which led into the kitchen. The kitchen led to the garage. The second floor was the dining room, living room and a bedroom. The living room led onto a small patio on the garage. The third floor had another bedroom and then the library. The fourth floor had three bedrooms. The fifth floor had two bedrooms and the gym. 

The sixth floor was unique in its own right. It led into the enclosed but open-air terrace, so it offered privacy while being outdoors. There was a glass roof I could choose to close if I wanted, such as during the colder months. The master bedroom, which was my bedroom, was on a mezzanine next to the terrace. A small office was also attached to my bedroom, facing the backside to look over the garage. 

This is where the enclosure for the terrace came from. I could open my bedroom doors and walk down the stairs to the terrace. Across from my bedroom, along the wrap-around hallway that doubled as a balcony overlooking the terrace, was the art gallery, full of art, photographs, and fashion pieces for my own little collection. The gallery also housed my grand piano and a few other instruments. Above the gallery was a small rooftop patio as well. The basement had a hot tub, wine cellar, and game room.

Most of my house went unused. It was one of the first large purchases I made when I started making a few million. At first, I had people over often. I even let family members stay for months. My mother and father lived here for a few years, until I bought them their own condo in Upper Manhattan. The home was hardly used, which I felt guilty about. Millions of people were homeless in this country and here I was, leaving a perfectly fine house empty. I considered selling it, but couldn't bring myself to, even though the resale value would be much more than what I bought it for.

I worked out in the gym for a while and then took a shower in my private bathroom. After, I laid down on a couch on the terrace, the August heat turning into a nice evening chill. When I stayed at my townhouse, I refused to bring a random hook up over. I didn't like being alone in the townhouse, though. I could be alone in the office any day, but the townhouse was different. It was a mirror to the life I was supposed to live. I was supposed to have a house full of life, full of friends, family, laughter, joy, love. It was empty and lifeless. It made me question everything about my life. What if I didn't start this company? What if I stayed in California? What if I told Mom the truth sooner? What if, what if, what if?

My stomach started twisting but I didn't throw up. I just sat in the bathroom for thirty minutes. I took another shower and then went to the bedroom, taking a melatonin tablet, and falling asleep.