Addictive Love

Lilian walked down the busy streets of New York. It was raining, and she was already soaked all the way through. Nights like this weren't strange to her. It was on nights like this that business was always booming. Lots of people stood in clusters, seeking shelter from the chilling rain. She headed into a bar where the music blared loud to an almost deafening pitch. Perfect! The business was in session. She sat at a table, hoodie up, eyes sharp, looking for a perfect target. While she searched around, she ordered a dirty martini.

"One dirty martini," she said to the bartender.

"Dirty martini. You want that with lime or on the rocks?" the bartender asked.

"On the rocks," Lilian replied. The bartender got to work. She peered through the crowd and finally found her target: a rich, unsuspecting lady, probably in her mid-thirties, dancing at the far corner of the club.

"Your martini, ma'am," the bartender said, handing her the glass. She took it and downed the contents in one gulp. She paid the bartender and proceeded to make her move. As soon as she got up from the seat, she was pestered by a drunk individual.

"Hey there, beautiful. How about me and you blow this j****t, ay?" he slurred.

"How about you fuck off," said Lilian, clearly not in the mood for games.

"Oooh, you're a feisty one, aren't ya? I love it," the drunk persisted.

Lilian was losing her patience. She rolled her eyes and checked to see if her target was still in the same spot. "Go fuck yourself! Now piss off!" she hissed and walked away. She cautiously approached the lady and spotted her bag in her hand. Bingo! Now it was time for a distraction. She pulled out a rubber snake from her pocket and surreptitiously dropped it near the lady.

"Ahhhh! Snake! Snake!!" cried Lilian, and in an instant, the whole place was in disarray. The lady jumped up in utter fright, almost pale. Under the cover of confusion, Lilian made for the bag and in a flash disappeared through the front door. She picked up the pace and ran through the streets, taking complex turns and routes to make sure no one was tailing her. After a lot of zigzagging, she stopped to catch her breath. She turned and saw all was quiet. She found an empty route and headed home.

This was her job, this was how she survived, and this was how she paid her bills. It wasn't pretty, but it was lucrative, and besides, those rich folks had more than enough to spare. Lilian made it home and opened the door. She looked around behind her before she entered. You could never be too careful. She headed straight to the dining table to check her loot. It was risky opening it on the way. The bag felt heavy. Had she hit the jackpot?

"Yes! This is such a score!" she cried. In the bag was $100,000 in bills of 50 and 100, as well as a new phone and jewelry worth millions. This was more than enough to pay her rent for the year. She sat back, relaxed. In her mind, she made her expenses. Immediately, she made for the phone. She deleted all means of tracing and contact to cover her tracks. She wasn't ready to go be a jailbird. Life had been tough on her, so she had to be tough on life. And tough meant doing everything possible to survive. She had some cheap champagne and got ready for bed. She tucked the money safely away. She would pay the landlord in the morning for a year's rent and get back to work tomorrow. One score was never enough. Soon, the alcohol began to take effect, and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

"Honestly Adam, how daft can you be!? What do you mean that my flight to New York has been canceled?" Damian's frustration was evident. He had no time for incompetence, let alone dealing with canceled flights at shitty airports. He walked toward Adam, his assistant, who dared not move. Damian looked at Adam from head to toe in disgust.

"Well then," he said in a dangerously smooth voice. "Go get me booked for a private flight out of this pathetic country or else..."

"Yes Sir, right away," Adam quickly replied, sensing Damian's anger. Damian was not enjoying his holiday in Saudi Arabia. The weather was hot and uncomfortable, and the women weren't pleasing enough for his taste. They were too well-mannered. It bored him. He couldn't wait to get back to New York, where he had tons of work waiting for him. This terrible holiday felt like a waste of his time.

Damian strode to his wine cabinet and poured himself a shot of Tequila Ley. Looking around the room, he noticed the woman he had spent the night with still naked in bed. It was seven in the morning, and Damian was an early riser. He sat on the comfortable armchair facing the bed and continued to drink. Soon enough, the lady stirred and woke up, realizing that their night together had come to an end.

"Great, you're awake," Damian remarked, tossing a fat wad of cash at her. She stared at him, then at the cash, and then back at him in disbelief.

"Now get dressed and get the hell out of my room," he coldly stated, turning his back to her. She didn't utter a word, silently dressing up, grabbing the cash, and leaving the room. Damian didn't even look back as she closed the door. Businessmen like him had no time for attachments. They were distractions and created unnecessary ties. His life was money first, and sex was for pleasure only. To him, women were nothing more than tools for pleasure at his disposal.

Standing at the window, Damian gazed downstairs. He had seen the woman leave. After a while, Adam returned with news.

"I have scheduled a private flight for you to New York by 2 pm, Sir," Adam informed him.

"Good. Next time, don't you wait for me to tell you the proper thing to do. Now, get out!" Damian commanded.

"Yes, Sir," Adam replied, promptly leaving the room. Damian was now alone, thinking about his upcoming meeting in New York and the gala he had to attend the following week. He didn't particularly enjoy publicity, but he couldn't avoid it. It was one of the downsides of being rich. He also despised galas; being nice and courteous to people wasn't his thing. He wondered why people needed compliments to feel self-assured. Sipping his drink, he let his thoughts fill his mind as time flew by.

Afternoon arrived, and he headed to the airport. The staff politely greeted him, but he said nothing. He wasn't the type to waste his breath on pleasantries and compliments. He boarded the plane, took his seat, and his bodyguards positioned themselves. Soon enough, they took off. Damian checked his watch; it was 2:10 pm. The thirteen-hour flight lay ahead of him. To pass the time, he pulled out a book and began reading. He had plenty to do to make thirteen hours feel like three. After completing five chapters, he retrieved his laptop and started working on memos and letters. Money never took a break, and neither did he.