Pregnant By The CEO by Cassandra Dee
6
Pierce
After she leaves the cafe, I still hear her voice.
My anger is slowly evaporating. I try to hang onto it, but it floats right out of the coffee house with her.
I still feel indignant and wronged, of course. That’s not going to go away because somebody slandered me in the papers. But the pure hatred seems to have faded from my senses, leaving instead the musk of arousal.
What's so bad about spending a lot of money on a bracelet, anyhow? I sent Maria an exquisite diamond bracelet and not a bag of shit. Besides, don't women want nice gifts? I thought I was doing the right thing by Maria. I thought it was the kind thing to do. If she was so damn hurt by it, why couldn't she just tell me instead of writing that damned letter for the public to read?
Sometimes, I think I am truly done with New York City. This place is filled with drama queens and over the top nonsense. It’s not as if I actually need to be in my office to run the business. All my siblings have moved into their country homes full time, and when I visit, I’m filled with an urge to throw my phone in the lake and never return to Manhattan again. That can’t be good.
Well, that’s a bit overly dramatic; I’d want to get my stuff, and go back the city when I inevitably get restless. But the idea of leaving remains. I am fucking through with the rat race. I’m done with women thinking they know me because they googled me or read about me or heard a story about me. I am over everybody getting angry that I don’t live up to their fictionalized idea of Mr. Alpha Male.
I’m sick of the noise, too, not to mention the pollution and giant buses that practically run you over rumbling down the street. The Citibike riders? Even worse. Believe it or not, I’ve almost been mowed down by two or three of those bikers while strolling through the city.
Fuck. I try the bit of croissant that Casey was too indignant to finish before storming out. It's dry and overly sweet. Without even realizing it, I find myself wondering if she liked it. Damnit. All trains of thought lead back to the beautiful brunette. Grimly, I pay the check, leaving a generous tip.
I'll never come back here, but I'm not finished with Casey Henderson. Not even a little bit.