Page 71 of Bartholomew


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“You don’t ever think about the future? Ever think about settling down—”

“No.”

“There’s more to life than money—”

“Only poor people say that.”

“Well, I’m not poor.”

“But you were.” My eyes remained focused, trying to figure out an opening for a conversation.

“Alright, enough of the baby talk.”

I grabbed my glass and took a drink. It was white wine—far too sweet for my taste.

“How are things with you?”

“We don’t have to talk.”

“See?” she said. “You’re angrier than usual.”

“Not angry. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Like?”

“I’m about to take Italy. Begin my distribution there. Make the Skull King my bitch.”

“The Skull King?”

“Not important.”

“Well, you should get laid during all this ambition because you’re tense.”

“I am.” I hadn’t seen Laura since we’d returned to Paris. We both had shit that required our attention, work that we had to catch up on. It’d been five days since I’d had those tits in my mouth, and I was definitely starting to miss it. Every time I got a waft of roses, my dick got hard.

“Well, the whores aren’t working because you’re still an ass.”

“She’s not a whore.”

“She?” Both of her eyebrows rose at that bit of information. “That sounds singular.”

I’d said too much.

“Do you…have a girlfriend?” She said the words with utter shock, like she couldn’t believe someone like me could be monogamous.

It was a fair assumption, I supposed.

“Holy shit,youhave a girlfriend?”

“That’s not how I would describe it.”

“Alright, then how would you describe it?”

“She’s my woman.” I kept my eyes across the room, dividing my attention between two different things.

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Not in the slightest. A teenage boy can have a girlfriend. I have a grown-ass woman.”

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