Trust Fund Baby ~ 49 A Satire

Chapter 49

I was ready to go at 4 p.m. I planned to pick up J around 6:45 p.m. and then arrive fashionably late for the 7 p.m. dinner. It’s what the filthy rich are supposed to do, Mother claimed only barbarians eat dinner before 7 or show up on time.  Showing up a tad late makes those of a lesser class nervous and those of the same class envious. That’s Mother, always thinking about other people. She is this generation’s Mother Teresa. 

I asked Nicole for advice, she’s a good friend, she’ll drop everything to help out on a moment’s notice. Nicole searched my wardrobe and picked out beige linen pants and a white silk shirt hanging to wear outside my pants. She suggested light brown loafers for a sporty look. Nicole stayed with me while I undressed and put on the clothes she laid out for me. When I finished, I turned to her and said, “How do I look?”

Nicole responded making a scratching motion with her right hand, “Grrrrr.” 

Her growl gave me sexual confidence. Without warning, Nicole started walking slowly, seductively toward me unbuttoning one button after anther on her blouse. I thought she wanted a close up look. I realized I was mistaken when I had a sudden surge of sexual energy focused in a lower part of my anatomy.  When Nicole dropped her blouse to the floor I forgot all about dinner. My libido was fired up and ready to go. I hadn’t had sex since I met J. I’ve been true to her. I was experiencing fate’s great temptation challenging me to love one woman and forget all others. Fate can be cruel and it was taking me for a ride down the rapids of love.  

“Do you really want to have sex with Nicole?” my conscience said.

“Un huh,” I answered. “It’s a guy thing. Did you ever have a bachelor’s party?”

“Yes, but I didn’t ask the housekeeper to spend the night with me,” said my conscience.

“It wouldn’t be the whole night,  I’m not a complete fool,” I countered.

“Close to it. If you ask her, I’d add idiot, imbecile, lunatic, and not deserving of the prize that knocks on your door.”

I hate having a conscience. He’s always making me think of the consequences. I’ve lost the devil may care, everything goes for the filthy rich, morality be damned attitude Mother spent years drilling into me. I said, “Okay, you win. I know you’re right.”

“Who you talking to, Tiger?” asked Nicole purring in a way that made me want to forget my conversation with my conscience.

I’m not sure what got into Nicole, she was within arms reach and while I was conversing with my conscience she had slipped off her pants and I was staring at the hottest Latina on planet Earth wearing only a red lace bra and the cutest, sexiest red panties I’ve ever seen. I’ll deal with my conscience tomorrow, the hell with it, I’m going to live for the moment.  I tool a step toward Nicole and walked into the space where destiny and visceral life forces collide, Mother’s voice cackled over the mansion’s intercom. “Nicole, Nicole? I need you this instant to trim and paint my toenails for tonight.”

Nicole flipped an obscene gesture toward the voice and then gave me the sexiest pouty look ever, “Sorry, Tiger. You was making me weak with your sexy look. I gotta go and trim and paint the bitch’s toes. I give you a raincheck.”

I stood in place trying to make sense of what happened. I love J. I truly love her and yet, Nicole tempted me beyond a male’s human capacity to resist. 

“You make me tired. You’re trying to rationalize your immature behavior and lay it off on being a male,” said my conscience.

“My species is weak. Woman rule us only we’re too dumb to realize it. Anyway, it’s easy for you to say. You didn’t have Nicole trying to seduce you.”

“That’s why I intervened for you and had your Mother call her.”

“We’ve got to have a talk about your role in my life.”

“Fat chance. Get your head in the game. J will be texting you any moment, She needs to talk to you. She’s on her way and will meet you on the sidewalk outside the mansion’s walls..”

“Yah, right.”

At that moment, J text. She needed to talk to me and said she’ll be outside the mansion’s walls waiting for me. Something was up. I was happy she didn’t say, ‘We need to talk.’ That’s code for a breakup and we haven’t even started. 

I left the mansion without a word, hopped in a golf cart and parked it on the grass to the side of the ten foot metal gate, walked to gate and punched in the code. The gate swung a wide arc, I walked through and spotted J’s beat up Toyota off to my left. I waved at her and hurried over. I slid into the passenger seat and caught a breathtaking glimpse of an angel. J wore a black dress that was making love to every inch of her skin. I knew she chose the dress for me because of the dipping neck line and exposure of her marvelous breasts.

“What’s up, J? What’s the problem?” I said, my eyes not straying a centimeter from her caramel colored cleavage.

“My eyes are up here,” she said using her thumb and forefinger to tilt my chin.

“I need your full attention while I talk to you. I don’t want your mind wandering. I don’t want you fixated on my body parts. I am serious. Very serious. When I’m through talking, you can tell me if you still want me to meet your parents.”

“The answer is yes,” I said. “There is nothing you can tell me that will change my mind about you. I love you. That’s settled. Anything else?”

J shook her head, put the Toyota in drive and pulled away from the curb, “Dante escaped from prison two days ago.”

“I assume he didn’t have a get out of jail card and was playing Monopoly with the guards. Did you help him escape?”

“How would I do that? Do I look like some kind of fool?” said J. 

I love her passion and her temper turns my flame to high. I responded in a way that showed J my deep sense of compassion and family, “The only reason I asked is if you did, can we have conjugal visits if you’re convicted?”

“Is sex all you think about?”

“Mostly,” I said.

“What are your parents going to think about you having a brother in law who’s hiding out from the police?”

I thought about it for a moment, then I had a flash of insight, “Does Dante know how to do massages that have happy endings?”

The look J gave me melted my heart. She said, “You are so innocent, so naïve. You really, really need me in your life.”

“I know,” I said. 

“Answer me truthfully,”

“Okay?” I asked.

“Being a psychologist. You don’t have a clue about being a psychologist, do you?”

“I can’t argue the point.”

J pulled the car into a Wendy’s parking lot.

I said, “You want a burger?”

“I’m not hungry, but you are going to want to read your trust fund agreement.”

J reached into the driver’s side door pocket and pulled out a manila folder. I reached for it and she pulled it away. 

“Where did you get it?” I said.

“Dante is a skilled professional. He did me a personal favor. Let it go at that. Next thing, I am going to be honest with your parents. I am who I am and I am not going to play nice with them. Do you still want me to go to dinner?”

I said, “I love you. You don’t have to play nice. Just promise me you won’t kill them right away. You’ll think about it. If you do kill them, give me a warning so I can make sure they didn’t write me out of the will.”

J started laughing, reached over and gave me the sweetest kiss I ever had. She handed me the file and I read it.

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