Chapter 4 #2
“Ouch. A reminder that we aren’t getting any younger.” Sebastian feigned being hurt, his brow wrinkling.
Huffing, I swirled the drink. “Let’s face the obvious. We’re set in our ways and grow bored very easily.”
Xander nodded. “You are correct. All kidding aside, how do you suggest we go about selecting candidates?”
“I wasn’t kidding. Look around you. We have any number of choices.”
“Yes, dear Christian, but whereas we had a captive audience in choosing Harvard students or at least those living in and around Cambridge before, the convention caters to people coming from all across this country and even the world.” Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed together.
“Then I suggest you discover a way to narrow down the playing field.” It was apparent my buddies had lost some of their imagination. We’d been creative as fuck before, allowing no limitations in who we’d chosen as our contestants.
“Do you remember when Christian selected the wife of the one of the local politicians?” Xander laughed and as soon as Sebastian brought the story to his mind, he did as well.
“That was the one time I was certain you were getting kicked out of school.” Sebastian lifted his empty glass just as the waitress came close.
I took another sip just as another party of girls arrived, only a few yards away as they passed by our shadowed table. With the ambience inside the bar, including low lighting and the use of mahogany wood throughout, our presence could easily be ignored.
But we had a bird’s-eye view of half the expansive room. In this case, we were in the perfect location. Ms. Michaels had arrived, somewhat more relaxed than I’d seen her earlier.
Seeing her brought another wave of hunger even more intense than before.
I chuckled with them, the memory one that had lingered with me long after my father had made a hefty contribution to the congressman’s upcoming election pac. “She was an extraordinary submissive.”
“You were always into the kinky stuff. Including stalking if I remember.” Xander was baiting me.
“Yes, well, we all enjoy our proclivities. Don’t we?” After shooting him a look, he lifted his glass in respect. We’d sworn an oath of secrecy and solidarity during our freshman year, something that had withstood the test of time.
We’d been playing with fire, but our respective wins with seemingly unobtainable women had been the spark needed for the men we’d become. An added benefit had been boosting our bank accounts and obtaining more respect from our fathers.
Sebastian whistled. “So what are the rules? That we use our talents to find someone at the conference. Yes?”
“You are a mogul within media. You can’t tell me you won’t be able to find hidden talent amongst the authors or readers who would enjoy being in front of the camera gushing about their ideal alpha man,” I told him.
Xander rubbed his jaw. “He’s right. I just happen to be a publisher. I could certainly provide an impromptu pitch session at the conference.”
Penelope settled around a table full of women, leaning in to answer a question. I could almost gather a whiff of her perfume from where I was seated.
She’d gone to Michigan State University, excelling in the School of Hospitality Business minoring in marketing with a core curriculum being social media. Given she’d graduated as the salutatorian, she’d had several decent offers after graduation.
Where had she chosen to begin her career?
Covington Enterprises.
At first, she’d been assigned to the front desk of a major hotel to learn the ropes, quickly moving to the corporate headquarters where someone had discovered her social media skills, tasking her to work with the marketing department on various campaigns.
She’d even dabbled in graphic design for a few of them, many of which had been used.
She was very talented, too creative for someone to be sitting behind a desk or lost in a department full of people.
Which was why I found her choice in opening her own company as fascinating as the woman. I’d perused her social media accounts. She had a decent following, but by no means enough to be approached by any businesses to allow for monetarization.
There was a story behind her troubled eyes and one I was determined to discover. Everyone held secrets, dark desires, or troubling events better left out of the prying eye. Hers had something do with being all alone. I just didn’t know what or if that mattered.
In my mind, she was a rosebud who’d not yet reached her flowering potential, easily molded into an incredible work of art. And I could be the master sculpture, leading her to her full potential. She’d possibly make an excellent employee, although that would go against my company rules.
As if I followed them.
It certainly wasn’t a novel idea, yet this time and with the position I held, my creation would be something formidable and lasting. But only if she was capable of surrendering herself both personally and professionally.
Of course I was jumping the gun, given all that I knew about her was on paper.
Except that she was the kind of woman that when walking into any room captured the attention of everyone inside.
Men and women included.
My wheels were turning more than they should.