Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 148188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
My older brother Ethan had done me a solid by being a silent investor. He helped me get off the ground with some start-up money when I was fresh out of college. I was lucky that he believed in me and was always willing to help.
After years of hard work, I was able to pay him off this afternoon. I gave him back every single cent that I had ever borrowed. He wouldn't take the interest on the money so I took it and put it into a trust fund for my niece or nephew who’s on the way.
“You can live it up for one night.” Amber strolls over to my desk, sitting on the side of it. She leans over. The dress she has on is cut low in the front, her tits practically hanging out. I’m pretty sure she’s doing it on purpose. I’m not interested. I think that's part of my problem: I’m never interested.
“I’m sure there is something else you could be doing right now.” I give her a death glare. I should look into a second assistant who isn't one of the club workers. I’d picked up Amber on the fly after the head bartender here told me she was efficient. But I'm beginning to regret that decision. With each week that passes she becomes a little more comfortable, which is leading to her hitting on me.
“I’m sure there is.” I glance back up to her. She’s smiling down at me. There’s a glimmer of hope in her eye, which I’m about to extinguish.
“Get out of my office.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her she’s fired but I don’t. I’ll hire someone new for my late night PA shift and then I’ll have her led out to the front door where she can be more efficient. She sits up straighter immediately as her nose flares with anger. She masks it quickly.
“If you need anything—”
“I don’t.” I cut her off, turning my gaze again to my computer, dismissing her. I don’t fuck people that work for me. Hell, I don’t even have time to fuck my own hand anymore.
Since I opened my first club all I do is work. Some people think that I spend my nights partying. Of course I was always seen in pictures inside clubs with giant parties going on behind me. It is my job. I’m not saying that I’ve never partied but that life isn’t for me anymore.
My business is too important to me and I’ve worked too hard to allow that lifestyle to get its hooks in me. I am ready for the next phase of my life; I’m just not sure what that is, which lately has been leaving me uneasy.
I finally have what I’ve always wanted and still there is this empty feeling that remains inside of me. Each day it grows worse. I should probably see a doctor or some shit. I rub the center of my chest, trying to get the hollow feeling to go away. It does nothing to fill the void.
I try to think about what has changed in the past month that could be giving me this feeling. It can’t be that my brother fell madly in love, got married and has already knocked up his wife Amelia. His whole life has changed for the better. No, this feeling came after. I am happy for him but it isn't something I ever wanted for myself.
I lose myself in work trying to pass the time. As I go over the numbers, it still always shocks me how far I've come in such a short time. Ethan is my brother but he was more often a father figure to me. I wanted to prove myself to him. I’ve done it. This afternoon I could see how proud he was when we signed off on all the paperwork. Making the empire that I’ve built mine.
I glance at the clock and see that it’s finally four in the morning. I flip off my screen. Friday night is done. It went smoothly. I had no idea how important a good staff is. Having managers at each club that I can trust to run things without me hovering over their every move is vital to my business. I still need more staff, but I’ll get there eventually.
I stand from my chair, stretching. I still don’t feel tired. I should probably find something to eat. I grab my suit jacket off the back of the chair before heading downstairs to the now empty club. Only a few employees linger around cleaning and restocking.
“How’d it go?” I ask Gio, who is sitting at the bar counting out money.
“I swear we make more and more every night.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I slap him on the shoulder.
“I’m out for the night.”