Chapter Two
ALFIE
“Hey, big boy, I’m going to need your attention front and center,” Scott Dietrich says, as he snaps his fingers in front of my face.
He cuts me off from my thoughts of that girl from the bar last night. I’ve been thinking about the stunning redhead all morning. From the curvature of her body to the sweet taste of her cunt.
That’s my first problem right there. I’m overthinking what was nothing. The woman at the bar was a bit of fun I’ll forget about by lunchtime. At least I can hope so. But, I was the one who cut our filthy night short. I left her with an ultimatum to come back and see me again.
What the fuck is wrong with you, Alfie? Why would you be so stupid?
Because she’s different. She didn’t recognize me as Alfie Callahan, tech mogul. She wasn’t impressed by my designer suit or Rolex watch. Like me, she wanted a dirty night of debauchery and sin with a stranger. She didn’t care who I was.
Maybe it’s just the alcohol clouding my judgment. Maybe I’m just getting old and sentimental.
Another snap of Scott’s fingers brings my attention back to him. “Christ, I can’t keep you with me for a second.”
Scott’s my lead product manager and right-hand man. He’s a run-of-the-mill college kid who, twenty years later, hasn’t realized those days are long behind him. I guess I’m not that much different. We’re both pushing forty, but time doesn’t catch up the same way with the rich.
“Got a lot on my mind with the product launch.” I calculate my word choice to avoid unnecessary conversations about redheads and last night. Beyond colleagues, Scott’s my oldest friend, and I can’t have him prying into my personal business.
“The launch?” Scott replies with a grin.
He slides a meaty hand through his brown hair.
“Our job’s done. The launch is next week, and it’s up to marketing to get our product on the shelves.
” He pauses, and then his face turns serious.
“Soon, every house in America will be equipped with Callahan Tech’s Silent Surveillance.
Crime will be a thing of the past. The monthly subscription to our security firm alone will generate more money than we’ll know how to spend. ”
“Crime will be a thing of the past,” I repeat. It’s the only line that catches my attention. “Doesn’t sound good for business.”
His stoic visage breaks once more into the same aloofness he wore while walking into my office. “That’s more like it. The launch isn’t really anything to worry about. It’s the fact that we’re gonna have to start revolutionizing the company once we’re protecting the world now.”
“The bottom line’s always the front runner,” I say.
Sure, giving the populace safety and security will rake in cash, but what then? Idle hands are the devil’s workshop. It’s no wonder the redhead from last night’s lingering in my head. After completing Silent Surveillance, I’ve been twiddling my thumbs and waiting for the next big idea to strike.
Get a hold of yourself, Alfie. You can’t afford that bullshit right now.
I’ve built my empire on the premise of being alone.
While weak-willed fools were craving a woman’s touch, I was revolutionizing the security space.
Young pussy is great, but emotion is a hindrance.
My time studying at Yale showed me that.
The most intelligent students, the goddamn greatest minds of our generation, couldn’t get over the hurdle of wanting a partner.
Their downfall came in rushing into marriage and searching for lovers to continue the concept of the American Dream.
Their failure was my opportunity to excel.
They focused on relationships and pseudo-happiness while their future drifted into obscurity.
How much time can a person give away before it’s too late?
Conquer first, everything else comes later. That’s the motto and mantra that’s gotten me to the top.
“Maybe you should take a break. Get away from this for a bit, while we finish off launch preparations,” Scott says, flashing me a pearly white smile.
“Go to Aruba, Jamaica, oh, I wanna take you. Bermuda, Bahama, go on pretty mama...” he says in a sing-song voice, roughly in time with The Beach Boys hit.
“I’m not going to Kokomo,” I cut him off.
“But you can get there fast and then take it slow.” He chuckles at his own joke.
“Is the security firm in the loop with what’s happening? A few of ‘em will have to be present at the launch, to give the people the appearance of safety. Get the biggest fuckers you can find to stand on that stage,” I say.
“Alfie, relax. We set up United Arms security services specifically for this product. They know what to do.” Scott waves it off.
“And anyway, we’re paying a PR team to handle the public appearance of Callahan Tech and its subsidiary organizations.
You don’t have to worry that pretty little head of yours one bit. ”
“Easy for you to say. As the face of this corporation, I’ve got a lot riding on this,” I groan. “One mistake and living the high life could turn into dwelling in the sewers.”
Scott opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Hold that thought,” I raise a finger to still him. “Come in.”
The door opens to a middle-aged woman with her frizzy hair tied in a tight bun.
Her name’s Beth, and she’s been my interim assistant for some time, while the company hunts for a new one.
By her frail stance and the look of panic in her eyes, I’m sure she’s going to be relieved to tell me the new hire is standing outside.
“Excuse me, Mr. Callahan. Apologies for the interruption,” she says. “The young lady interviewing for the position is waiting outside.”
“From a quick glance, is she what I’m looking for?” I ask. Beth hasn’t been here longer than a few weeks, so she’d never be able to honestly answer this question.
“I’m sure she is, sir,” she says, proving my point.
“Fresh cannon fodder, huh?” Scott says. “I give her a month. Two at most.”
Both of us get out of our chairs.
I’m notoriously hard on my support staff. I carry a tremendous weight on my shoulders and expect them to shoulder part of it. Those who can handle it are hard to find. Perhaps today, I’ll get what I’m after.
“We’ll catch up later, Scott.” We shake hands. The conversation was leaning towards the trivial at the end anyway, so there wasn’t much use in continuing it.
“Don’t be so hard on this one,” he says, before leaving.
“Let’s get it over with then,” I say, following Beth out of my office and onto the main floor of my building.
But what I’m greeted by isn’t some smiling face, eager to serve.
The young woman in front of me wears the same dumbfounded expression I feel pulling across my own face.
Her jaw’s slack, eyes wide, and she’s staring at me as though I’m some endangered animal held in captivity. I suppose it makes a lot of sense…
A little over twelve hours ago, I had my face buried between her thighs.
What new hell is this?