Текст книги "Both of Her"

Автор книги: Kathy Coopmans

Соавторы: Alisa Mullen
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

ONE

Ten Years Later

If you asked me ten years ago if I would be living in one of the coldest regions in the United States, my eighteen year old self probably would’ve bet you one thousand dollars – a lot of money for me at that time – that I’d decide on sunny Florida or Georgia. My life, in those innocent, barely adult eyes, catered to my future mid-level business and marketing position, my doting husband, and my adorable twins. One boy and one girl, of course.

Now that I am twenty-eight years old, I would be out one thousand dollars, a lovely husband, and the two rug rats, because today, I am trying to beat the low temperature of fifteen degrees Fahrenheit by asking my driver, Colin, to get the Lincoln ready an extra half hour early for my half mile commute to work. I am such a sucker for wealth.

My Louis Vuitton clad feet take the mere fifteen steps from the car to the front entrance of the Willis Tower, better known as the Sears Tower to most of America – damn buy outs – in downtown Chicago, but fuck it, if those weren’t the worst fifteen steps of my day.

Despite the gray day, and Colin’s announcement that snow was predicted later in the evening, I still wear my dark sunglasses through the beautifully luxurious lobby of the Willis and while I ride the elevator straight up eighty-five floors to my office.

Warm, sandy beaches, I think of as I start to pull off my Italian leather gloves and hand them to Annie, my personal assistant. She’s oblivious that I’m mentally checked out as she begins talking my ear off about her upcoming weekend – something I could have done without that morning. I wasn’t ready to work. I hated to work when it was this dreary outside.

Divider Marketing, Inc. had gone public last week and as it stood, my personal net worth sits at a cool three point two million dollars, having almost fifty-five percent of the shares in my family’s name. Does my family know? Of course they know I set money aside for them, but do they know how much? No fucking way. My mom and dad, blue collar, all-American citizens in Jacksonville, Florida, were always supportive of my success starting from a very young age. They sent me to a private flutist throughout my childhood when they realized my love of the instrument. Eventually, they invested more in those private lessons, so it could grace me with a scholarship to college. Wherever that college was they didn’t care. Never in their wildest dreams did they think I would get a full ride to New York University, where I worked my ass off to obtain a double major in business, because let’s face it – flutist don’t make actual money. Actual money was what I had in stocks, bonds, art, homes, diamonds, and written all over my face. Nevertheless, playing the flute is still where I find my calm. Well, except for my getaway weekends. Those are my most favorite past time… hands down. Hands all over me, actually. Hot, soothing hands with whispered intents make my stomach jump a little.

I live the good life and it is my secret alone. Apart from Annie, I have two people that work side by side with me at Divider. Leo and Mitch are two guys that I had a bulk of my courses with at NYU, and to this day, have never been able to understand what the draw to a keg party was. They tend to stay out of the nightlife and focus on numbers, allocations, financial trends, and most importantly, coding for software.

When Apple came out with the Application Store, the three of us spent hours talking and researching applications that would best help people in the new millennium. We own nearly twenty percent of the largest applications that are sold through the Application Store so every few days, over a box of Dunkin Donuts coffee, and equipped with jelly donuts, the three of us brainstorm at least another three to five applications that would find themselves on the App Store by the following week. We use this brand of marketing to start helping smaller companies get with the twenty-first century. The almost daily meetings are imperative to Divider. Leo and Mitch are the brains and I’m the beauty behind Divider. While I enjoy that part of the business very much, I hate the nitty-gritty details of meeting with people that have ideas to give us, trying to take a piece of the pie. Sure, sometimes it is necessary to bring them on to help as a consultant, but even those meetings piss me off because since college, I believe Leo and Mitch to be two of the smartest men that have ever lived. They, in turn, love that I took all my blood, sweat, and tears and got us up and off the ground years ago. I remember the sleepless nights and the painstaking accounts that no one wanted in this industry. I started off pinching a form of Ramen Noodles through an interactive application on a smart phone. We’ve been pinching hundred dollar bills instead of pennies ever since.

A year into our endeavor; they sat me down and asked me how and why I believed in the company and where I could get the startup capital. Those questions never had real answers. I looked at both of them and gave my most fantastic grin. After I swooped in with a most cuddly hug for both of them, I told them never to worry about money again. I wasn’t worried, but something about those two nerds from college made my heart sing and still does to this day. They may never know my penchant for dirty sex and lavish gifts, but I like to think that if they ever knew, they’d ignore that side of me. I can’t imagine them being too angry. Well, I hope they might find some compassion for my addiction.

I knew then I had enough jewelry in my safe to get us started and let’s just say, an anonymous donor got us up and running. After many demands to know, I just said, “Girls need to have some secrets, boys.” I playfully squealed at our new office, kissed them both on the cheek, and begged off to all the staff interviews that week. I hated meeting with people even back then so they’d let it slide.

Now, I come in for our powwows and my love of prettying up campaigns. I meet up with Annie and she goes over the social events that Divider is expected to be a part of now that we were in the top five most lucrative firms in Chicago. The boys, as I call them, have absolutely no idea how to hold a champagne flute, give a succinct toast, a riveting speech, or talk money shop with potential investors. It’s so cliché, but yes, I’m the walking, talking poster for Divider and I play it well knowing they are huddled in conference rooms, being the brains they are. I like to believe that we all knew our roles and the three of us are quite comfortable in them.

After the business had been flourishing for a year, Mitch was growing tired of being a guinea pig, so I threw two assistants at him, both graduates of MIT. One of them accepted his daily intellectual challenges and threw it back into his face. Rachel became more to Mitch. Much more.  Now Mitch is married to his Rachel, with two kids. He hardly ever complained about another thing again, except how she challenges him at home. All men need challenges every now and again.

Leo’s a different story. He’s so damn pigheaded that he picks apart every transaction and person until there is nothing left. The guy is always unhappy and since it is money and the business that made him unhappy, I had a friend do a small favor and pay him a visit every Friday evening around ten. Since that first weekend, Leo has been as chill as a surfer dude in Hawaii.

If those two are happy, they don’t question why I’m not sitting in on important meetings or why I wear my sunglasses unless I’m alone with only certain people or behind closed doors. They’ll never understand that as much as I love the life Divider has provided me, the pride it gave me – to do this on my own and to know I would always be secure financially is not where my happiness stems from.

“Mark would like to know if you’d like to meet for dinner at Palo’s tonight,” Annie begins to say. This is the time where she chirps off my social calendar for the rest of the week, and normally, I listen with great interest to the gentlemen that want to have dinner with me. Today, I just want out of this fucking awful weathered city.

“Annie, I’m going to take tomorrow and Friday off to look into a business down south,” I say as I whirl around, lower my sunglasses, and wink at her. A small smirk flashes across her face before she straightens and looks around to be sure we didn’t draw any attention.

“Of course, Luca. Shall I tell them you would like a rain check then?” she asks as we continue down the hall to my two thousand square foot office that includes a sitting room, a bathroom, and okay, a closet with an automatic runner. Sweet dreams are made from money and I have the sweetest dreams.

“Don’t you mean snow check? Ugh, when will this filthy weather give up already?” I ask rhetorically.

Annie knows she doesn’t have to answer, so instead goes on to ask what services she can provide in my absence.

“I’ll call you tomorrow at eleven to check in. Mitch, Leo, and I will do our hour following your updates. You all know the drill. If there are any problems, I’ll be sure to update everyone’s calendar.”

I open the door to my toasty warm office and find the boys have already made themselves comfortable in my sitting area. I walk around to look at the forms on my desk.

“Do you need me to sign all of these now?” I ask taking off my glasses just as Annie clicks the door shut.

She nods and I take a seat to start signing the twenty or so papers.

“Well, hi Luca. Nice to see you, too,” Mitch starts.

I look up to him and blow a kiss. Leo pretends to catch it and then the two of them are instantly in some sort of boy like wrestling session.

“How old are you two?” I question.

“Luca, I can answer that question if I could be frank, “Annie states.

I looked up to her, amused. I nod for her to continue.

“They are smarter than any two men I know, but I’m not sure that they ever got rid of their Batman underwear.”

Both men stop wrestling and look at Annie in shock. I bust out in laughter and high five her. Annie is simply fabulous. If I had a best friend, she would be it. I think she knows it, too. However, my life is too busy for a best friend to grab martinis or eat ice cream with. I have places to go and people to meet. She and I occasionally get these few moments at work to act like the twenty something chicks we are, but outside of this building, she would never be able to understand my life style choice.

“Annie, Mitch, Leo – I’m going to Georgia for the rest of the week to do some business exploration down there.”

“Bull shit,” Mitch spits out. “You hate the weather and you’re making an excuse to get out of it.”

No one says anything. He is right, but I will drum up business there and everyone knows it. I finish signing the papers on my desk and hand them to Annie with an eye roll. No one understands me here and the more I try to explain myself, the more I feel like this place is a fucking prison of butch women, wanting their way with me in the bathroom.

“Tell Colin to have Margie get me packed and ready to go in an hour,” I state without a glance in either of my partners’ direction.

“But we will really miss you,” Leo whines like a little child. Annie snickers as she makes her way out my door and presumably down to her office.

“Luca, your assistant is so fucking hot,” Leo announces. I look up to find him slack jawed, eyes trailing Annie’s movements down the hall through the little slice of window that exposes me to the rest of the office. I should cover that up, I think, until the horror of what Leo has said completely registers.

With our jaws dropped, both Mitch and I stare at him. “Since when?” Mitch asks as I exclaim, “That is disgusting! She’s my assistant!”

Leo shrugs like it’s no big deal but for Leo – he gets off on computers and brand new BIC pens. He color codes his socks, as I once confirmed during our senior year at NYU. I wasn’t sure if he ever thought about women unless they were in his lap. Stretching his arms, Leo hugs the back of the couch with a small smirk. Was he holding out on us? Of course, I couldn’t be too mad. If these boys knew what I really did in my spare time, well…I pray we would still be friends.

No one actually knows who I am. Hell, sometimes I forget, and think I’m an actress living a privileged life. The closest I come to being my true self is around these boys. They are NYU geeks and I related to their club better than any other group on campus. Equations and formulas were my thing until I started living my other life. I quickly stand up and go to sit in the middle of them.

“Yeah, well – you are too out of her league, Leo. What happened to that lovely brunette who you’re banging?” I ask, putting my arms around both my boys’ shoulders.

“We still bang.” No emotion accompanies that statement. Leo is stating a fact in Leo style.

The three of us sit there in an awkward silence for a while until I clear my throat.

“Did you just say bang?” I ask looking at him with a grin.

Leo, in the true boring conversationalist form, shrugs again. Ugh, yes I am the most like myself with these guys, but holy shit we are so fucking boring.

“So what’s on your calendar for the rest of the week?” I ask, moving to return back to my desk.

“We have two engineering meetings. You know nothing that you would ever care about,” Mitch states.

I look up and sigh, placing a manicured hand on my pin stripped suited hip. “Oh cut the shit, Mitch. You know I don’t understand all that mumbo jumbo. Give me numbers and I’ll make them look any way you want them to, but shit, engineering? What is the program?”

“Something to do with another GPS tracking application because Lord knows we can’t have enough of those,” Leo says, rolling his eyes.

“I thought we did well with our map application. Mapperz is cool.” I purse my lips and scrunch up my nose to think about why people feel the need to compare one program’s directions to ten others. They all get you to the same place. Mapperz comes equipped with police and accident trackers, and it will cost us more to make a new app, but if people want to buy it, it might not kill us to spend the week, making it happen. I mean, it won’t kill Leo and Mitch. They can bitch all they want, but this is their game, their passion. I am along for the ride because we are as tight now as we were in college and well, it was the three of us coming up with the company on napkins at a coffee shop in our last semester in college.

Despite all of that, I don’t feel bad about getting out of the snow for a few days. They knew me, the Florida girl with perpetual cold feet. They knew I drummed up business anywhere and everywhere I went. Nevertheless, Luca and winter are not friends but no matter what happens, I will never permanently leave Chicago. I am owned by Divider and these geeks so in return, I own them. I can’t disrespect that by permanently moving anywhere else. That didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to travel to get what I really want every weekend.

What I really want is just a matter of a few phone calls away to my dearest acquaintance, Carl. Carl is my token gay friend who has a penchant for hooking me up with what people might call one night stands. Except they aren’t really “one night” and there is a lot more to the “stand” than sex. No, I wasn’t paid for sex or my time. That would make me a hooker and excuse me, but I have more money than most women my age or any age for that matter. No, I enjoy the men, the flowers, the gowns, the envious looks from other men and women, the jewelry, and finally, the mindless orgasms each and every one of those men gives to me. Whether I have to teach them or they come fully trained, I am always richer in experience after the nights with my secret men.

A low burn starts between my legs as I begin to think about the diamond tear drop earrings I recently saw at Tiffany’s. A quick pang to my stomach flashes as I think of my body in a satin gown with a glass of champagne in my hand. A hot flash comes over me as I ponder those earrings and that gown discarded as I take in a strong and wealthy man that meets all of my needs.

Shit. I need a fix. All I have to do is get through this day and find my next man.

TWO

“Oh look, her limousine awaits! Must be nice to have a driver take you to the airport.” Leo’s high pitched squeal that sounds like a little girl who just saw a puppy startles the shit out of me as we exit the building after a non-stop day of phone calls. My mouth has been running all day answering questions to our newest client, Evan Myers about how we’re going to pitch his campaign for his financial company to the investors he has lined up for next week. The man is a genius at the age of twenty-five, with a face that leaves a stain on my chair from my panties getting soaked every time he leaves, but at the same time, the man is starting to get on my last nerve. I may sound like a bitch at times, I assure you I’m not. I’m fun, energetic, and willing to try anything once. Except drugs. Drugs are way too dangerous, addictive, and not to mention, they mess with your mind. I need to be in control of my mind at all times, especially on the weekends where I leave town to become the desirable Lucia Westwood. But I swear to god, if he doesn’t let me do my job, which I do extremely well, I’m going to throttle him and it will not be in the way I have fantasized about many times before.

“Hello? Sex in heels?” Colin snaps his fingers in front of my face.

“What?” I bite back.

“You zoned out there for a second. Your luxury chariot awaits.” The dork stands with the back passenger door to the limo wide open, and swipes his hand for me to enter.

“You know you can use the company car for anything you want, don’t you?” For some reason, I suddenly feel a slight bit terrible I use it all the time for my personal use.

“Nah, this isn’t for me. I’d rather pick up chicks with my dick, instead of picking them up in a Lincoln.”

I stand there observing the little puffs of carbon dioxide coming out of his mouth, only noticeable due to the freezing cold air. I wonder what kind of girls find Colin attractive. He is like a little brother to me, although I know he is my age. We’ve never really discussed our extracurricular activities and I cringe at the thought of his.

“You’re such an ass.” I roll my eyes for the second time that day, before smiling at the thought of the comfortable relationship I have with my driver. Colin must know something happens when I go out of town, seeing as I come home with double the luggage every single time. He always has this real smug look on his face when he places the extra bags in the trunk and smacks my ass like the flirt he is.

“Get in so I can get you out of town,” he growls as he practically shoves me in the back.

“Have a good weekend, and for Christ sake, bring some of that warm weather home with you. This shit is making my dick shrivel up.” He leans in, placing a kiss on my cheek, before he slams the door closed. Propping my head back on the headrest, I laugh at how crass he is. I laugh even harder because he has no idea, what so ever, exactly how warm I will be staying all weekend. Warm in bed, with a new man, who I plan on fucking until both of us feel like we’re sweating half to death.

“Thanks for taking me to the airport, Colin. I know how nerving this rush hour traffic is.” Slipping my Jimmy Choo’s off, I prop my legs sideways on the seat, settling in comfortably for the ride to the airport.

“You pay me to do this, Luca,” Colin says, glancing at me in the rear view mirror. One of the things I ask of all my employees is to call me by my first name. Miss so and so sounds too uptight to me. Besides I consider them my friends.

“That I do. However, we both know Chicago sucks when it comes to driving. Anyway, I have a file to look at. I’m going to put the divider up. Let me know when were close?” I’m eager to take a look at the man Carl hooked me up with for the weekend, that I barely register Colin’s comment about all work and no play. If he only knew what kind of play I’m about to get into this weekend, those small lines starting to form at the crease of his eyes would spread to his hairline faster than my legs plan on doing tonight.

Taking off my sunglasses, I toss them in my bag, before running my fingers through my shoulder length blonde hair. I open up the file Carl sent me of the man I will be spending the weekend with.

“Holy fuck,” I blurt out to myself when my eyes come to rest on the photo of Heath Landon. Twenty-five years old. Sandy blonde hair. Dark brown chocolate eyes. Square chiseled jaw. Heat instantly pools in my core like a thousand angry volcanos ready to erupt, causing me to shift in the seat.

“If he fucks like he looks, this is going to be one hell of a weekend.” I look down to my pussy as if to make sure she heard me. Flipping through the rest of the pages, I make sure everything I always ask Carl for is intact. He has never failed me before, yet I always try to know as much about the men I spend the weekend with before I meet them. That means a health screening check, a marital status check, and a criminal background check. Those three things are a must for me. They must be cleared of any diseases, not married, have a girlfriend, or any type of criminal record. Safety is a must. I always demand the use of a condom even if they ask for a blowjob. As far as asking for a criminal check background goes, that pretty much speaks for itself. No way in hell will I put myself in jeopardy the way some women do. These men I spend my time with have to be free of all three of these first and foremost. I may like to fuck a complete stranger, but I will never put my life in danger. I trust Carl with the men he hooks me up with. It’s them I don’t trust. How can you fully trust someone you really don’t know? You can’t. That’s why this is a two way street. All this information they provide me with I provide them with as well.

“I wonder what he does for a living. Please be something exciting.” My body explodes in elation when I skim to the last page and see he is a chef. Jesus Christ the ideas I have running through my mind right now. Will he want to fuck me on his counter where he chops up all his food? Will he use some of those handy triple X kitchen gadgets that are utensils and sex toys all in one?

Closing up the folder, my body is on fire. There’s no way I’m going to make this two and a half hour flight to Savannah, Georgia without relieving myself.

Tucking the file firmly back in place in my Louis Vuitton travel bag, I stretch my legs in front of me, planting my feet firmly on the floor. My ass seems to lift off the seat on its own, as I try to unzip my tight fitting skirt by gliding down the side zipper. Relief hits me in a big whoosh the minute I shimmy my skirt up past my stockings and garter belt exposing my naked thighs. Instantly, I’m thankful for going sans panties this morning the moment my fingers reach my aching bare sex; smooth to the touch from my recent waxing.

“Oh god,” I moan. Sensation courses its way from the tips of my toes to the top of my mound when my finger glides easily through my slick heat. No need to worry about how cold it is outside anymore, because it’s scorching in here. Hotter than the lava from those thousands of volcanoes I was just thinking about.

Closing my eyes, I start fantasizing about the different things Heath and I could do this weekend. The way his fingers will caress me, the same way he would stroke the smooth end of his favorite knife. Or how he will palm my ass with his strong hands while he drives his large cock into me from behind.

Sloping down further into the seat, I begin to knead my breast through my coat. Why the hell didn’t I take it off? I make quick work of unbuttoning the top two buttons, before sliding my hand under my silk shirt and bra. Grasping ahold of my already perked nipple, I pinch it to the point of eliciting the pain I love so much. There’s nothing in this world as tender as my nipples. I love having them sucked so deep into a man’s mouth that the pain shoots pleasure to every erogenous zone in my entire body. It’s Heath’s mouth I see in my mind's eye nipping and licking my breast; pressing them together, while sliding his cock in between.

“Get there, Luca. Fuck yourself,” I moan. Thankful for the blackened out shield separating Colin and me right now, because I’m going to shoot off like the grand finale of fireworks over Lake Michigan on the fourth of July.

I find my clit. Already a tender hard nub, protruding and eager for my touch. Rubbing in quick, hard circles over and over while lapping up my wetness from my folds. My pussy screaming for any type of penetration.

Spreading my legs as wide as they will go, my finger easily slides down my walls. The sensation is overwhelmingly powerful once I begin to move in and out. The sounds of my slickness bounce off the small interior of the limo.

“More I need more,” I pant. Inserting a second finger, I hooking them both back toward myself the best I can, trying to reach that sensitive spot to push me over the edge. “Fuck yes.” I pump in and out in quick successions. Foreign noises escape my mouth as I push myself closer to the edge.

I feel it burning inside of me, begging to release itself from my body. Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, I imagine what Heath’s cock will look like, what his lips will taste like, how they will feel when they lick up my center. In my mind he is devouring me like he tastes his greatest creation. I explode like those volcanos. My orgasm rips through me. Hot and wet onto my fingers. With one last pinch of my nipple, I remove my hand from inside my shirt. Exhaling loudly, I pull my soaked fingers from my greedy pussy. Quickly, I clean myself up with the package of tissues I always carry with me when I travel. I correct my clothes back in their proper place and I lay my head back, watching the Chicago skyline fade away in the distance. A smile graces my face after my release. “Carl,” I say to myself, “I do believe you’ve done it again, my friend.”

***

“Shit. It’s freezing out,” I roughly tell Colin, as he hands me my bag out of the trunk of the limo. “It’s the first of March for god’s sake. Shouldn’t it be spring?”

Colin laughs beside me. “It will be soon, Luca. In the meantime, you’re about to spend two days in Savannah, Georgia.”

“I know. I looked up the weather last night while watching television. It’s in the mid-seventies down there. Which means, if you don’t see me walking out of the terminal Sunday afternoon, I’m not coming back,” I tell him jokingly.

“Whatever, Luca. Enjoy your flight. Get inside before you catch a cold and can’t enjoy yourself,” Colin says, chastising me like a child. He’s been my driver for two years now and was just like the brother I never had. Being an only child could be lonely at times. My parents were attentive, always supportive; I couldn’t have asked for a better set of parents if I handpicked them myself. Yet I always desired to have a sibling to share everything with. I sound selfish. My parents are good people.

You miss them, I tell myself, and I do, too. I miss them terribly. If they knew I was going to be so close to them this weekend, they would be pissed at me. I should call them, and tell them I’m attending a business meeting all weekend in case they try to call. My mother fills my voicemail up whenever she can’t get ahold of me, which is often. As soon as I get checked in, I’ll call them while I lap up the luxuries the Delta Sky Club lounge has for me. The club is one of the many perks of flying first class as much as I do. I fly not only for pleasure, but business as well.

My reputation in business speaks for itself. I did not become a millionaire by strictly keeping my talents in Chicago. Over the years I’ve branched out and have clients all over the world, just about on every continent.

After telling Colin goodbye, I hoist the handle of my bag up making my way into the airport. I’m able to check in without any effort at all, since all I have is my carry-on, purse, and an extra bag. Once I’m through security, I walk to the closet sky lounge. With my head held high and my shoulders back, I enter the lounge and quickly relax into the soft cushions of a leather chair tucked in the corner.

“Hi, mom.” I speak enthusiastically into my phone after the waitress hands me a glass of Trimbach Riesling, my absolute favorite.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” she ask in her sweet southern voice. My mother was born and raised in Nashville, Tennessee. She met my father on a family vacation at the age of sixteen in Florida. They spent the entire week together, laughing and soaking up the sun. When the week came to an end, they promised each other they would write or call as often as they could. They kept this up for two years until they graduated high school. During those two years, they fell deeply in love with each other. My father was extremely impatient when it came to seeing my mom again, so he drove to Tennessee, proposed to my mother, securing her as his wife. They were married months later at nineteen, and now almost thirty years later, are still happily married, living off my father’s salary as a foreman for a construction company. Material things mean nothing to them. That’s the one thing the three of us have never seen eye to eye on. I may be the combination of the two of them, but I’m nothing like them at all when it comes to money.

I want luxurious things. No, I take that back, I need them. I may not wear them like I should, as all the gowns I receive hang in tightly sealed bags in a separate closet in my apartment. All of my favorite jewels are locked away in a secret safe in my bedroom. On the snowy and dreary rainy days, I bring them out. Taking them into my private bathroom, I place the diamonds and emeralds around my neck to watch them sparkle and glisten from the lights up above. My favorite piece is a royal beauty. It’s the most innovative ring I have ever seen in my life. It was given to me ten years ago by a pilot I met. God, he was the best sex I’ve ever had and the man who showed me this life style. The ring was an unexpected surprise, a complete bonus after the sex he gave me. It’s set in an unusual 14K pink and platinum gold band, with pink and white diamonds encrust the entire way around the band. In the center sits a 2.0 Karat princess cut diamond, surrounded by small diamonds in the square setting. This is the only piece I wear in public and I wear it daily on my right hand. It’s the closest ring to a wedding band that will ever grace my fingers. I’m a woman fated to be alone, left to drown in my own selfishness. Not that I’m extremely selfish, except for when it comes to myself. I donate to charities and attend events when I can. The question I’ve asked myself, and others have asked at least a million times, is why won’t I settle down with just one man. The simple answer is I can’t. Both of these lives I lead are an addiction. I have to have the men and the adventure they provide. It’s like a drug flowing freely through my every vein, pumping fiercely to keep me alive. That is why I will be alone, always relying on nobody but myself.