Life as a New Hire Ch. 22

"Hey Brooke, do your parents know you are hanging out with Trent's Wal-Mart substitute?" Brennan had begun his assault.

"Felix?" Brooke deftly parried. "Nah. I dated him once, but he turned out to be another degenerate frat-boy loser, so I dumped him." Maybe I should have let Libra and Brooke dispose of Mr. Keyes for me as well. "Cáel's not like that. He cares."

"Come on now," Brennan battled back. "He's some minimum wage paper-shredder whereas Trent worked directly for his department head."

At this same moment I was convincing Casper and Anima that I was a professional assassin...just for some relevance.

"That's why they pay him a quarter-million a year," Brooke snickered. "Or put him on a jet to come back from his father's funeral, or around the clock bodyguards.

Minimum wage has improved a good deal under the Obama Administration, but I don't think it has gone up that much," Brooke finished up.

"He told you that?" Brennan mockingly laughed. "Come on Brooke, that's a total snow job."

Back to the current reality.

"Cáel," Brooke got my attention, "can you prove you are rich?"

"Nope," I reassured her. "You've seen where I live and what I ride to work. I'm a pauper."

"What about those bodyguards?" she prodded me. I had to turn so that Brooke and I were face to face. I was back with Aya explaining how 'not' is a very dangerous word.

"We do not talk about that, Brooke. Never. You've seen my office, you know I work for Executive Services and I'm only an intern. I am not some 'specialist-in-training' for ES," I clarified. Yes...I was Nyilas, Cáel Nyilas of Ishara's Secret Service; license to invalidate reality.

Life got better.

"So, you've convinced Brooke you are James Bond," Brennan kept trying to belittle me.

"Why, yes I have and that would make you Octopussy - congrats Stud," I laughed at him. Worse, several others laughed as well, Anima included.

"What are you doing here again?" Brennan tried to use the 'host' thing to insinuate I was rude, which I was.

"You think you can bamboozle Brooke into having sex with you and I'm telling you right now, barring drugs, or blackmail, that isn't happening because she's far too independent minded to be attracted to a shallow, immoral creep like you," I answered. "I think that covers it."

"Stop it," Brooke touched my left bicep. "Don't go picking fights on my account." Brooke was having pity on Brennan, exerting her authority over me and letting everyone know that she could 'unleash my wrath' at her will - the 'picking fights' detail.

"Four hour sex session tonight, or I'm going to be a very grumpy guy come sunup," I challenged Brooke.

"Four?" Brooke giggled. "Not feeling up to your normal level of excellence?" I kissed her then roped in Libra for a quick bonding moment.

That was it for Brennan's first attempt. Palatial pad, sports cars, rich friends and making me look like a stock clerk/bag boy/guy out for a payday - all failures. Even his 'ringer' hadn't delivered - my disrespectful self hadn't been spanked and/or humiliated by any stretch of the imagination.

(Illusions)

"Let's go to Illusions," Brennan called out. I was curious about his next angle of attack. The pathetic thing was that if he devoted his weaseling ways toward bettering his life, he could be worth a damn. "It's a members club, Kibble. Let me know if you need something to wear."

"No need to bother yourself, Brennan," I grinned.

"I found a garment truck stalled on 33rd and engaged in a little 'social justice' and 'wealth redistribution'. Your fake generosity has been noted and found to be rather weak and unoriginal," I nodded as I turned to leave with 'my' two ladies, "though consistent with your performance so far." More laughter at Brennan's expense as we headed off to our rooms to change.

"Wow," Brooke muttered as we put on our party attire, "I hadn't recalled him being so...underwhelming."

"Honestly, I think the three of us are the only ones to have graduated college," Libra added. "I noticed Brennan didn't have a Carnegie-Melon ring." We three had our 'we've been slapped upside our heads with a sheepskin' jewelry on - two Vassars and a Bolingbrook.

Driving/seating assignments were the next social rumba. Unluckily, it was obvious that we couldn't go to this club with the same set-up as Brooke, Libra and I came in. The plan was to split apart the new people under the auspices of us not knowing where Illusions could be found. Since it made sense, we had to go our separate ways.

Brennan ended up with Brooke, Libra ended up with a waste-of-space guy whose name I hadn't bothered to remember, and I found myself driving some custom sports machine with Amina.

"Why don't you like me?" Anima mused after twenty minutes on the road. She wasn't asking me to defend my vibe. She wanted to know what she was doing right about being 'wrong'.

"You find creating excuses for bad behavior to be tedious," I enlightened her. When my mentor, Dr. Kimberly Geisler, had educated me about women, she had opened my overly romantic eyes to all sorts of pitfalls young men could fall into including emotional ant-lions like Anima. "You find it amusing that people consider you broken, hollow, depressed, despairing of hope, or empty of life. They are so wrong - you are evil.

You feast upon the weaknesses you find in others and drink in their misery as you publically expose their painful secrets. Creating random suffering bores you," I continued. "You revel in destroying virtue, hope and trust, staying close and concealed as a confidante until you administer the coup de grâce. Only a lack of anything approaching a work ethic keeps you from being a serial emotional rapist. I think that description covers how I feel about you."

"You've only just met me," Anima said. "This sounds all a bit contrived and hurtful. I think you are the person who likes tormenting others." I laughed. "Do you know what I see in you?"

"It is hardly something I care about, but by all means, give it your best shot," I chuckled.

"You want every women in the room to want you," she began.

"Having a woman reject you attracts you. You have to turn that woman around and once you are done, you abandon her to her doubts, worries and regrets," Anima weeviled her magic.

"Whoa...that is what you made of the discussion between me, you and Casper?" I snorted. She gave me a smoky, sexy twist of the lips.

"Hmmm...how much longer is this road trip going to take?" I asked.

"Half an hour," she answered. We had been driving west, back toward NYC...for three-quarters hour almost.

"Ah, what the hell," I mumbled to myself. "Anima, I'm not a psychiatrist, psychologist, or spiritual advisor. I'm a responsible man and that's all I've ever wanted to be.

Sex with women? Absolutely. Intercourse is wonderful and it doesn't have to be a contest. A lady says 'not interested', I'm moving on to the next one. Am I unfaithful? Hell yeah and I'm honest about it now. Do I have other vulnerabilities? Yes and go looking for them. I dislike you enough to send you that way knowing you could get killed for doing so. Since I've warned you about the potential threat, I remain a Good Guy," I finished up.

"Death isn't all it is cut out to be," Anima gave a depressing lilt. "I'm not afraid."

"Anima, nothing short of decapitation will cure what ills you," I grinned. "Not a damn thing I can say will convince you that your demise will be anything, but bad. That misconception it totally on you. I've been on the cusp of death and it was awesome for me...that was because I love and was loved.

Laugh if you like. You are evil, so 'love' doesn't register with you the way it would to a normal person. Evil isn't strength. Evil isn't a 'tool' that the foolish mass of humanity can't conceive of. Evil is a defect and you are going to find that out the hard way, no doubt," I ruminated.

"Philosophy major?" she wondered.

"Philosophy minor - Business major," I replied.

"Do you believe people can truly be evil?" Anima took her eyes off the road to drink in my introspection. "Without being crazy," she qualified.

"Of course. Evil isn't a 24/7 thing so it isn't like you wicked freaks run around with a flashing neon sign over your heads announcing your 'monstrosity' status," I started.

"Evil slips around the sides," I went on. "As I alluded to earlier, those actions are layered in excuses and misdirection. Science wants to wrap the whole concept of evil in bubble-wrap and give a descriptor to the psychosis with the open suggestion that it can be cured with therapy and pills. Not you - you don't inflict pain out of some sadistic impulse, Anima.

You aren't lashing out because Mommy and Daddy didn't love you enough, or because you were abused by someone close, and no one did anything to help you. Nope, you are a beast with above average looks and more financial resources than is remotely healthy. Please don't get me wrong - I don't care about your nature. I am not trying to save, or change, you.

Feel free to be you without an ounce of concern on my part as long as you leave me and mine alone. Anima, you are hardly unique. I have more than enough on my plate without worrying about your predilections. Here ends my lecture on the kitty-poo that is your soul," I sighed.

"Casper is mine for the weekend," Anima stated after a few minutes.

"I'm going to bypass the 'people are not property' debate and go straight to the 'I' warned you' and going back up my threat with a promise of escalation," I looked deep into her dark eyes.

"You are going to hurt me?" she gave a sloppy smirk.

"No. This is a matter of restraint. Pain doesn't scare you - it should, but it doesn't," I smirked right back with greater energy.

"This isn't a game, Anima," I clarified. "Either you are an anathema with self-control, or a slithering horror at the edge of human perception; that is the issue. If you wanted to be treated like an inhuman threat to a community I am a member of...well, you know the fate of monsters, don't you?"

"Ewww, a death threat," she giggled.

"You will be hard pressed to find the words 'exterminate', 'murder', or 'killing' in my lecture above," I grinned. "The 'fate of monsters' could be exile, entrapped, or killed - open to interpretation."

"You sound like a lawyer," Anima kept talking.

"My father was murdered Monday night, so I've been dealing with some lawyers," I replied.

"Murdered? What did he do?" Anima attempted to not seem terminally bored.

"Married the woman he loved, had a son who he was proud of and mostly minded his own business," I said. "He owned his house, left no debts, and lived and died by the same simple code he taught me - take charge of your own destiny."

"How noble," she sneered.

"If you thought I was soliciting your input, you were mistaken," I shook my head mirthfully. "The polar opposition of our natures makes anything you think/say about me so much drivel. Women - I came with better looking ladies. Engaging personalities - I have three with far rosier outlooks on life. Wealth and connections - I don't give a damn.

You have nothing I want, but if you did, I'd find a less onerous way to get it than getting socially close to you," I dipped into the Amazon credo.

"I've met people who thought they were untouchable before - independent, moral, or cloaked in happiness," Anima laughed. "They've all been wrong."

"You have gone from a prattling annoyance to an overworked joke, Anima," I looked at her with pity. "Take my job? Good luck with that. Sully my reputation? I don't care. Take a 'woman' away from me? There is precisely one woman I care about enough to bend my life for. If you go after her, I'm not going to be the one you need to worry about." Aya.

"Money? I can always get more. Dwelling? Mine isn't all that grand anyway. Friends? Good-luck finding any that would ever be deceived by you. Physical pain and suffering? I have been hurt before and my health plan borders on the magical. I'm not untouchable. You simply lack the imagination to affect me," I laid out truth for her. She didn't believe me. In her mindset, everyone was a potential victim for her to devour.

I had done my due diligence. Anima attempted to get me to open up. I sandwiched lies with the truth until we finally rolled into Illusions' parking lot. It was a gentlemen's club - that's a strip joint for us less fortunates. I clawed my way through life feeding upon the small, positive sparks I brought to lives around me. Brooke held forth her own sparkler for me to enjoy.

Brooke, Casper and Libra were outside the club, waiting on me (and Anima). Brennan's plan was for the group to arrive separately, he and Brooke first. Brooke wouldn't have a choice, in his mind, except to go in this place with him. Mind you, it looked very high-class. The shock for Brooke was being taken to a gentlemen's club in the first place.

The old Brooke would have been outraged yet stumbled over her ignorance. The new Brooke was still outraged. She countered that by putting her faith in Libra and I showing up and supporting her decision about how to proceed, which we did. Brennan had kept trying to 'shame' Brooke into going inside until the next car arrived.

He had left Brooke outside to face the scorn of the other dirt-bags on his troupe as they went into the club. Casper decided to wait with Brooke, Libra had rallied to her as well and I rounded them all up. Anima pretended to approve of Casper's kindness then flashed her ID to the first of the bouncers of this 'Members Only' establishment.

First impression: big and competent security; always a mixed blessing at any club. The rest were given a cursory glance while I got the magnetic wand. Nothing beeped. Amazon knives had ceased being made of metal two decades ago so Brennan's attempt at annoying me failed. The super-rich crowd was made obvious by the professional female attention gathered around their cushy seats.

"You look like trouble," this Vietnamese-American dancer/waitress stroked a finger from my Adam's apple to the cleft of my chin. That was 'exotic' dancer speak for 'I'll let you be a little bad'. Trust me. I've met a plethora of exotic dancers over the past two years.

"Dad was a grifter and Mom was a monkey-whisperer," I winked. "That has left me morally confused and financially directionless."

Laughter.

"Get us some drinks, you skank," Brennan commanded loftily. My latest buddy huffed and rolled her eyes.

"I apologize. It isn't small penis syndrome," I 'explained' to her.

"In fact, Brennan here is so well hung, when he gets excited, it crawls up his ass crack and he fucks himself," I grinned. As she turned to fill the current drink orders, she showed me a smirk and brandished her pinky, indicating she thought Brennan's anaconda was more of an earthworm.

It was blatantly obvious there was one spot on the circular lounge for Brooke - right next to Brennan with Anima on the other side and Casper pinned in next to her. Libra could sit on one end of the 'U' and I could sit on the other. Nah.

"Excuse me," I motioned to the closest poster child for the failures of the posh and pompous.

"I'm good," he snorted derisively. Ah, he thought I was making a request. I surreptitiously grabbed the back of his shark-skin jacket, yanked him onto his side on the seat then rapidly slid him straight out of the 'U'. I motioned Libra in and took 'his' seat by the time fuck-nut regained his feet. Extensive time in various nightclubs had helped me become a past master of knowing how to avoid attracting attention from bouncers.

"Mother-fucker," he yipped at me. I looked slightly up at him, face blank. At that moment, his drug and booze soaked mind began grasping the enormity of his major life mistakes. His friends weren't friends. They were more than happy to sneer, mock and derided his discomforts and failures. We weren't in elementary school. There was no 'seating assignments'.

He could attack me, but we both knew what that outcome would be. He could complain to Brennan. Short of unleashing his attack dog, Brennan could do nothing and without a doubt, his 'leader' cared much more for Brooke's curves than 'dumbass's' pride. Mumbling, he took the seat on the other side.

"When it occurs to you to throw a drink at me, do realize I will publically strip you down for towel material," I gave the cock-sucker a crocodilian grin.

"They have towel's here," one of the useless women pointed out. It is an indicator of how little I thought of her that looking her ways didn't automatically incite the siren song of 'sex' in my mind.

"I know," I nodded her way.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Orlando challenged.

"You had a good view of the door, Keyes," I met his simmering anger with my iron-clad bravery. "Did you see them take anything from me? If not, you may assume I'm still armed."

"Drinks," one the waitresses showed up with a tray. Another waitress and my V-A exotic mistress followed.

"I brought you a Rust Nail," she grinned. Since she was behind me, I had to roll my head back into her enhanced cleavage as she handed it over.

"You do see me sitting here - right?" Libra half turned her body and fully turned on her petulance.

"Best of luck with this one, Miss," the girl chuckled. "I can tell he's a handful and I mean that in the best possible way."

"I know," Libra mastered the situation. "He does all kinds of things...including bondage." Libra was swiftly becoming confidently adventurous.

"Top, or bottom?" our exotic hostess grinned seductively. Libra was uncertain.

"Both," I informed the lady. To Libra, "She was asking if I tie you down - top, or get tied down - bottom."

"Good for you," she patted my head then sashayed away.

"Hey Dog, you got a way with hookers and strippers," a gibbering chump snorted at me.

"Dude, it is not that dark in here," I shook my head. "White tops indicate waitresses (they wore a risqué, white, pseudo-peasant blouse) - don't grab one and we won't get thrown out. The lightly clad ladies are exotic dancers - they are only called strippers by polyester-clad, middle-aged businesspersons, and illiterate knuckle-dragging degenerates."

"Even the waitresses put out in this place," Brennan tried to sound worldly, "...if you have the money." Sigh. Beating the poverty drum.

"Have you ever paid for sex?" Brooke gave me a smoking hot, hungry gaze. She was 'playing' and really getting into it.

"Physically, or financially?" I requested.

"Both," Casper jumped in.

"I've been too poor most of my life to ever afford it. Later on, girls weren't happy until I bled and no number of zeros on a check would have kept them at bay," I let my eyes spark her way. Blush.

"Or maybe you don't know how the system works," Brennan countered. "You treat ladies properly; you treat pick-ups like nameless screws and move on."

"You mean you initiate sex with a woman with the prejudiced decision of never seeing her again? What fun is that? Ladies are always the 'road less traveled', not a cul-de-sac," I smiled.

"With every woman I've been with, it has been the journey we've shared that mattered. Had I not constantly crossed lanes into oncoming traffic, I'd have a lot fewer scars, but I am who I am," I shrugged.

"See," Brennan snaked an arm around Brooke's shoulders, "he's no good for you. He is one of 'those' people."

Perhaps Brennan should have taken into account that Orlando Keyes was one of 'those' people as well. By the man's look and that of his GF, they weren't pleased.

"Brennan," Brooke pulled away slightly, "you do realize Cáel is sleeping with me and Libra tonight, don't you?"

"Besides, Cáel also has a live-in female fuck-buddy, has had sex with at least two women at work as well as this female lawyer he met at an upscale club (Nicole)," Libra added. But wait - there is more!