Mama's Boy

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Seventeen Years Later...

Knox stared at his new assistant as she slid her clothes back on. Such a nice girl, he thought, but not wifey material. At least not for him.

When Veronica had walked into his office two days ago looking for a job, he just knew she would be in his bed soon. He'd given her about two weeks tops. Knox doesn't usually judge how fast he could sleep with a woman but Veronica had this look in her eyes that screamed easy.

He wasn't even surprised that she'd opened her legs willingly after just two days of knowing him. The girl was a whore, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Now, Knox didn't like calling a woman out of her name but he believes that if the shoes fits, wear it. The shoe was a definite fit for Veronica.

Knox got out of bed, in all of his naked glory, and walked over to her. He grabbed a hand full of her plump ass and buried his face in her neck. Veronica moaned and wrapped her arms around his waist. She tried to give him a kiss on the lips but Knox wasn't having it. He knows where her mouth has been and didn't want a sample of whatever she'd had a taste of, so he gave her a small peck on the cheek instead. He then pulled away and walked to the bathroom.

Veronica, being use to these kinds of situations, fixed herself up a bit before she let herself out of his house. As she walked out of the front door she yelled, "See you in the gallery later, Knox!" And left Knox alone with his thoughts.

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at himself, pondering over his life. Knox had grew into a handsome young man just like Loretta assumed he would. Standing six-feet tall, with light brown skin and dark brown eyes, he was indeed a ladies' man. To the average woman, Knox is the total package. He has the looks, a good job, is good in bed and he is respectful to women. Even girls like Veronica.

He had managed to become the CEO of a popular art company by the name of Grotesque, one of the biggest art agencies in America, grossing approximately 50 million a year. He'd graduated high school at the age of seventeen and was out of college by the age of twenty-one. Two months after he had graduated, Knox got an anonymous letter, telling him that he'd been hired as the next chief executive of the famous art agency.

For personal reasons, he'd known all about Grotesque and took the job immediately. A man, Jackson, had shown him the ins and outs of the company and trained him in the profession. Knox had already known a lot about art. He loved to draw, make, and create. Plus, he had majored in photography and visual art at NYU, so there really wasn't much for him to learn during training. Knox had taken the company under his wings and steered it in the right path. At such a young age, he became one of the wealthiest business men in the country.

Knox shook his head as he turned on the tap water, letting it get warm before he began to wash his face. He should be the happiest man in the world. Instead he was miserable in ways others couldn't understand. He seemed completely normal to everyone else but Knox was seriously fucked up in the head.

He grabbed a clean rag from the towel rack and dried his face. He then grabbed his toothbrush and began to brush his teeth. Afterwards, he took a birdbath, since he'd taken a shower the night before. He walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. Opening the sliding doors of his walk in closet, he went over to his collection of suits and dress shoes. He selected his clothes randomly and picked up a watch and tie.

He walked back out of the closet and tossed his suit and shoes on the bed. Humming a random tune, he put on some deodorant, lotion and cologne. He was just about to start getting dressed when he heard his cell phone ring. Picking up the phone off of his nightstand, he frowned at the name on the smartphone's screen.