Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
London
After eating an amazing pizza and salad, we returned to Damien’s penthouse. When we were at the museum, I noticed that he seemed a little more relaxed, and his anger about missing work seemed to have dissipated.
“I’m going into my study to work. What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I think I’m going to take a bath.”
“Use my bathroom. You’ll like it a lot better.”
“I will. Thanks.” I smiled.
I uploaded all the pictures I’d taken since I arrived in New York onto my laptop. I opened my blog and began writing about my experience here. I was flooded with messages from people asking me where I’d been the past few days.
“London?” Damien opened the door.
I shut my laptop and set it beside me on the bed.
“Hi.”
“I thought you were going to take a bath?”
“I am right now. I just wanted to get the pictures I’d taken uploaded on my laptop.”
“It’s been an hour.”
“I know.” I got up from the bed. “I had to go through each one and see if they needed editing. Why are you checking up on me?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking about maybe joining you.” He smirked.
“Really?” I grinned. The two of us taking a bath together?”
“It’s just a thought. If you don’t want to.”
“I didn’t say that, Mr. Prescott.” I smiled as I grabbed his shirt and led him downstairs.
We stepped into the bathroom, and Damien started the water.
“I’ll be right back,” I said as I left the bathroom, ran up the stairs, and grabbed a rose-scented bubble stick I bought from Lush.
“What is that?” he asked as I held it under the stream of water.
“A bubble stick from Lush. It’s amazing. You’ll love it. I hope you like the scent of roses.”
“Really, London?”
“Yes. Trust me.” I smiled.
He climbed in first and lay back. After stripping out of my clothes, I climbed in and snuggled my body against his. I could instantly feel his cock getting hard and pressing against me.
“Really, Damien?”
“What? Like I can help it. I just watched you strip out of your clothes, your body is amazing, and now you’re lying against me in a bubble-filled tub naked. I am a man, after all.”
I let out a laugh as I lay in his arms and thought about how nice this was.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“You’re what? Around thirty-ish?”
“I’m thirty years old. Why?”
“How is it that you own such a successful advertising business worth millions at your age?”
“I started selling my advertising services when I was fifteen years old. Like I told you before, I came from poverty. My mother was a drug addict, and my father was an alcoholic. They spent whatever money they made on drugs and alcohol. I had nothing. I slept on a mattress on the floor and wore shoes that were too small. I spent my days after school in the library and on the computer so that I didn’t have to go home.
One day, I ran across this ad for a bike shop; it was the worst ad I’d ever seen.
So I played around and created a new ad, emailed it to the company, and told them that I thought this was a way better concept for them.
They loved it and asked me if I could do more.
I did, and they paid me. I thought if I could do that for them, I wondered what other companies would like my ideas, so I searched and found a couple more.
I saved every single dime, and when I was sixteen, I left home and never looked back. ”
“Where did you go?”
“I came here. I’m originally from New Jersey.
I rented a room from a nice old lady who needed the extra cash and enrolled in high school so I could finish and get my diploma.
That was where I met Scott. He had the same visions as me.
We started traveling from company to company, pitching ideas.
Some loved us, and some didn’t. Their loss.
It wasn’t easy, but we kept at it. We both made our first million by the time we were nineteen years old.
We invested, took some college classes about business and finance, and when we turned twenty-one, we opened the doors to the Prescott Group.
So now do you understand why I work as hard as I do? Why work is my life?”
“I do understand, and I’m sorry about your parents and how they treated you.” I lifted my head and looked at him. “You’re letting fear control your life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your fear of not having money reminds you of your childhood. It’s the driving force that is consuming your life with work.
You need to slow down, Damien, and appreciate what you have now.
Appreciate the people around you—the gifts the world has to offer.
You need to live every day as if it’s your last. You can’t let the beauty of life pass you by because you’re so consumed with your work and the fear that if you don’t work, you’re going to lose everything.
You’ve built a magnificent company, and you’re already set.
But what is life if it only revolves around work? ”
He stared into my eyes and took in every word I spoke. Or at least I hoped he did.
“Are you sure you’re only twenty-five?” He smirked. “Because you seem wise beyond your years. I’m not like you, London. I’m going to be honest with you. I think what you’re doing is crazy and irresponsible. I’m sorry, and I don’t mean to hurt you, but I think you’re running from your own fears.”
“I’m not running from anything. I don’t have any fears. I’m living my life the way I want to.”
“Okay, then. You live your life, and I’ll live mine.” He brought his hand up to my cheek. “Don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not.” I reached up and kissed his lips.
After we got out of the bath, we climbed into his bed and made love. I still had time with him, and I would use it wisely.
“Where are you going next?” he asked as I lay wrapped up in his arms.
“I think I’ll go to the Grand Canyon. My dream is to go to Paris and see the Eiffel Tower in person, sip French coffee in a cute little Parisian cafe?, and eat pastries until I get sick. But I’m not sure that is going to happen.”
“Why? Because you can’t afford it?”
“Something like that.” I smiled.
“Well, maybe you can get a job, save, and then go to Paris.”
“Yeah. Maybe I should do that.”