I was not the kind of guy who carefully considered every element of my outfit. Tonight was the closest I would ever get to contradicting that.
“Frank,” I greeted as I approached the car, reaching a hand out to shake his. On days like today, I couldn’t help but notice how much of his time I monopolized.
“Mr. Brooks.” His greeting was warm, and he had a face to match. A smattering of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes pointed to a life filled with laughter, and the gray of his hair hinted at the possibility of a daughter or two.
“I wish you’d call me Kline,” I said with a smile, knowing it would never change.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
I shook my head and gave him a friendly slap on his shoulder with the hand not clasped in his. “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should apologize—dragging your ass all over town all day and night.”
“No trouble at all, sir.”
I chuckled again. “This makes twelve hours in this shift, right?”
“Yes—”
“And you’ve still got the rest of the night to go?”
“It’s no trouble, Mr. Brooks.”
A nod was all I could give at the time, so I did. It was a gesture that made it possible to get on our way, to get to the benefit, and to get busy letting Frank off the hook. I’d embellish the not-nearly-enough gesture with a fatter-than-expected tip on the bill later.
I slid into the car and Frank closed the door behind me. I unbuttoned the coat of my tuxedo and pulled at the lapels to make it stop feeling like it was choking me.
As Frank climbed into his seat, he spoke again. “Another stop, sir?”
Forced to give an answer I didn’t like, I shook my head. “No. Straight to the benefit.”
He nodded and pulled the gearshift into drive. “Yes, sir.”
I’d been hell-bent on picking Georgia up like a proper date, but apparently, on this matter, she had a closer relationship with the devil. Refusal was too kind a word to describe her reaction when I had suggested my driver would pick her up. In fact, she’d looked like the suggestion was more revolting than stepping in dog shit.
And I understood to a point. I personally hated taking the car, preferring immeasurably to take the subway and people-watch. I didn’t even mind walking fifteen blocks on a nice Manhattan day.
But certain aspects of my life demanded the car. It kept me on schedule during the day, on time to the office, and never late to meetings. Without the motivation of someone like Frank waiting on me, and the desire to respect his time, I’d have been late everywhere I went.
I liked to wander too much, experiment with new spots in the city and observe people as they met and chatted and said goodbye.
Human behavior was fascinating, and I found the more I studied it, the easier it was to manage all of my people-based businesses.
I glanced down at my phone, feeling guilty for checking it on my way to my first date with Georgia, but at the same time, not being able to help myself.
Nothing. All quiet.
My conversation from that afternoon with the mysterious Rose burned in my mind. I hated the fact that any woman would feel like being a virgin was something to be ashamed of or even be embarrassed to talk about it. But I was also a man, and fuck, it wasn’t a stretch to understand why. I could feel myself becoming more and more irrational the longer she’d talked about it, even knowing that she’d come to me for honest advice.
I’ll be honest. I had to advise my dick to calm the fuck down.
Very scumbag-like of me, I supposed, but I was convinced hearing or seeing the word ‘virgin’ or ‘anal’ or ‘sex’ fired some kind of hormonal response in the heterosexual male mind.
Maybe it fired it in the homosexual male mind too, but I didn’t have any firsthand experience to confirm.
Photographers lined the entrance as we pulled up to 30 Rock, a well-known skyscraper in New York City and home to several entities, including NBC Studios. For me, on this night, it was the Rainbow Room I wanted, an iconic restaurant on the sixty-fifth floor and host to the benefit for Mount Sinai Kravis Children’s Hospital. The fundraiser was being held by an outside organization made up of the well-meaning wealthy. I wished they’d spend less money on the event and donate it all to the fucking hospital, but the truth of it was that this was what it took to entice people into donations and make it feel worthy of their money. Schmaltzy entertainment, expensive food, and an evening out.
I was here to hand over a check, make my mother happy, and enjoy the evening with Georgia, the level of importance of each not relative to their order.
The dog and pony show passed by in a blur, camera flashes and shouted questions melding and mixing together as I covered my eyes and stepped inside.
Security for the event had taken over two of the elevators, and a small line trickled from the doors of each all the way back to me.