Enemies to 🔥Rom com
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Charles Winston Mayer-Chaz-is your typical trust fund, never gonna grow up playboy. His carefree bachelor existence is filled with women, money, and limited responsibilities in NYC is interrupted by the untimely de...
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When someone dies and you're left with their shit, it entails a lot of paperwork. Several thousand signatures later, Mayer Marketing is all fucking mine. I have stuff to get in order before I can leave the New York life behind—for now.
I spend the following days reaching out to clients, explaining my unexpected venture, making sure I set them up with other brokers.
While I never thought I'd end up back in Philly, I keep reminding myself the reason I didn't was because of the grudge I'd wanted to uphold against my father. And he's not there anymore.
New city—new pussy. May as well focus on the positives in this situation.
And speaking of pussy... when did I become one? I can't get hers out of my head, no matter how many other chicks I've banged over the last week.
I think about all the bullshit excuses I gave her about having to be there to run the company. Easiest thing would be to let Parker handle it, sit back in my high-rise, and reap the benefits from someone else's hard work. I have no doubt she could continue running it as she has.
But like I said, I actually enjoy working. When I commit to something, I'm all in—at least initially. And fuck me, I love a challenge. For whatever reason, she's still at the top of that list.
Also, I don't know her, not really. I definitely don't trust her. Maybe I do. Who knows? She's the first woman in years to grab my attention—amongst other things—and hold it. I won't act as if there's no ulterior motive for changing my location temporarily. But there isn't any point for me to get close with Parker. Nope. I only need for her to give in, like I'm blatantly aware she wants to, then cross her off the list.
I plan to stay in Philly just long enough to seal the deal. To make sure everything's running properly. Then it's back to my life, only having to check in every so often.
Soon as the fuck and chuck's over, I'm out.
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A week and a half later, after I'd packed only the essentials into Trey's truck, we ventured to Pennsylvania, still keeping my place in New York, of course. Why wouldn't I? Never know when I'll need to escape.
I push open the glass door to Mayer Marketing, greeted by freshly polished black marble floors, a matching expansive desk in the center, taking up the entire middle of the entryway.
"Good morning, Mr. Mayer." A short brunette, low cut dress, obnoxious cleavage, stands from her chair. Hair pulled tight, sleeked into a bun, a desperately eager smile, surrounded by overdone pink lipstick, lashes batting.
"Chaz," I reply, uninterested. Again, I don't want it if it's that easy—at least not at work.
I straighten the jacket of my navy three-piece; I know I look good. Shit, I'd do me. However, easy isn't so appealing anymore. She says something, but I tune her out, heading to the boardroom fifteen minutes early.
