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“Ah…now it all makes sense. There is a woman.”
“And she’s not one of them. I handpicked her long before I ever made a dime. She was a friend to me when I had nothing. And when I say nothing, I mean nothing. We lost touch after high school and I’ve recently become acquainted with her again. The only thing is, she has no idea who I am.”
“Get out of here, man? How is that even possible?”
“Let’s just say I’m not the man I used to be.”
“Sounds to me like you got yourself into a mess.”
“If only you knew.”
I take my phone from the pocket of the suit jacket and check my email inbox to see if Quintessa has replied to the email I sent her before leaving the office. She hasn’t, but I’m certain she’ll get back to me at some point. If she doesn’t, I’ll just have to pay her a visit.
After leaving Gregory’s, I arrive at ten thousand square feet of empty house. I bought the place eight years ago after two years of searching for the perfect waterfront home. I wouldn’t settle for less than what I wanted because when you reach this status, you don’t settle for anything. You get everything you want.
I enter the house through the garage. I swear sometimes I can hear my echo whenever I walk in. The slightest sound – me tossing keys to the counter – creates a noise that reminds me I’m the only one here. The house is fully furnished – a modern style, ten-bedroom, seven-bathroom, top-of-the-line beach home. I have a housekeeper who comes in twice a week to do a full cleaning, although much doesn’t need to be done since I live here alone. I consider myself a tidy person – probably more than most men. My house is always neat and organized. There are no kids here to mess things up, although I dream of that often. I wouldn’t mind stepping on Legos after my sons have built a tower, or watching my daughters play with dolls and little pink teacups. Most people – especially the ones I work with – would never think I wanted those things, but I think about them constantly. I want my children to carry my name – to grow up and be proud that their father built an empire for them.
I jog upstairs, undress and put on some workout clothes. I spend an hour in the gym lifting weights, mostly. It’s a part of my stress relief program. It’s how I keep my mind clear so I can be ready for tomorrow. While I’m bench-pressing a hundred and fifty pounds, all I think about is Quintessa.
There’s so much I need to know about her. I want to know how her parents, Sylvie and Amos, are doing. I need to know how life has been treating her all these years. Back then, she was confident. Always knew what she wanted and what it took to get it. Yesterday, she was flustered and so…different. I shouldn’t expect her to be the same person she was in high school, but since it’s all I know, it came as a surprise that she let me get away with so much. Who is Quintessa Bailey these days?
After a shower, I check my phone again before bed. There’s no correspondence from her, to my dismay. I’ve proactively saved her number in my phone under Tessie and had to make myself not send her a text message. I at least need to give her time to reply to my message before I go after her full force. That’s playing fair, right?
