brand-new silver Camaro pulls up. The car is fucking incredible. It pulls to the curb in front of me and Connor gets out. Holy shit it’s Silver’s. Why does that surprise me? Of course it is, the man is a CEO of a billion dollar empire.
“Mr. Black, are you ready to go?” he asks as he walks to the passenger side door and holds it open for me. I throw my newly lit smoke on the ground and climb in. He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s side. Connor looks back at me. “Mr. Silver wants you to have this.” He hands me a box. I thank him and open the box as he drives away. Inside is a brand-new smartphone and a note. It’s actually handwritten. Nice touch, Silver. I read it to myself.
Mr. Black,
I look forward to our meeting.
The phone is a perk of the job. Enjoy it.
Silver.
He called himself Silver; that made me smile. Connor drives to a very sophisticated area of Manhattan over off of 5 th Avenue. He pulls up into the drive of a large parking structure. The building is huge and modern, and expensive for sure. He parks and we walk to the elevators that empty us into the lobby of this luxurious building.
“Mr. Silver is in penthouse A.” He points to the elevators inside the building where a young attendant is waiting. Connor doesn’t join me as I get into the elevator. The attendant pushes the button to the top floor. I feel like I’m in an alternate universe . This is a far cry from what I’m used to. The doors open and there is one door on the floor: Penthouse A. Why am I suddenly so nervous? I wipe my sweating palms off on my jeans and knock lightly and wait.
Silver answers the door. “Mr. Black, so happy you could make it.” He looks incredible. He’s wearing a dark grey suit, a dark purple tie, and a white crisp shirt. I think my heart stops at the view.
I look down at my jeans and back to him. “You didn’t tell me I needed to dress up.”
He smiles. “That’s because you didn’t have to. You look amazing.” Yeah, in my Converse and jeans. “Please, come in. I was in and out of board meetings all day or I’d be casually dressed as well.” He holds the door and I walk into a dream. Holy penthouse. His place is like nothing I’ve ever seen. The art, the décor, and the fucking view. I just swirl around taking in everything. “Do you like?” he asks, watching my bewilderment.
“Yeah, it’s stunning.”
I watch him remove his tie and suit coat then unbutton the top two buttons on his dress shirt. “Yes,” he says.
“ Huh?”
“It’s yes, Mr. Black, not yeah,” he corrects me.
“Yes,” I stress and smile. “I’m not prim and proper, Silver, um, Mr. Silver.” I confuse myself.
“I like that you call me Silver. And as far as prim and proper is concerned, Mr. Black, you’re refreshing.” Refreshing? “I had my chef make a lovely chicken fettuccini dish. I hope it meets your satisfaction.”
“Anything’s better than ramen noodles.” He takes my hand. His hand is so strong. He leads me to the terrace. It’s dark and the terrace is lit with candles and lanterns. The view of Manhattan is breathtaking. In the center of the terrace is a table handsomely decorated for an intimate dinner for two. I’m beginning to think this is more than a business dinner. He pulls out my chair as I sit. I could get used to this.
“Tell me you eat more than ramen noodles?” He sits in the chair across from me. The chef, I assume, serves the plated dinner and rolls.
“I eat. Silver, don’t worry. I was joking.”
“Good. Would you like some wine?” I nod and he waves the man over to the table. He pours me a glass of white wine, but pours Silver water in his.
“You’re not having any wine?”
“I drink, but not often. I have several business meetings I need a clear mind for tomorrow. I don’t mind if you drink, though. In fact, I encourage it. It will relax you. It’s a lovely year.”
“Year?” I sip the wine.
“The wine, Mr. Black.”
“Mr. Black, are you ready to go?” he asks as he walks to the passenger side door and holds it open for me. I throw my newly lit smoke on the ground and climb in. He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s side. Connor looks back at me. “Mr. Silver wants you to have this.” He hands me a box. I thank him and open the box as he drives away. Inside is a brand-new smartphone and a note. It’s actually handwritten. Nice touch, Silver. I read it to myself.
Mr. Black,
I look forward to our meeting.
The phone is a perk of the job. Enjoy it.
Silver.
He called himself Silver; that made me smile. Connor drives to a very sophisticated area of Manhattan over off of 5 th Avenue. He pulls up into the drive of a large parking structure. The building is huge and modern, and expensive for sure. He parks and we walk to the elevators that empty us into the lobby of this luxurious building.
“Mr. Silver is in penthouse A.” He points to the elevators inside the building where a young attendant is waiting. Connor doesn’t join me as I get into the elevator. The attendant pushes the button to the top floor. I feel like I’m in an alternate universe . This is a far cry from what I’m used to. The doors open and there is one door on the floor: Penthouse A. Why am I suddenly so nervous? I wipe my sweating palms off on my jeans and knock lightly and wait.
Silver answers the door. “Mr. Black, so happy you could make it.” He looks incredible. He’s wearing a dark grey suit, a dark purple tie, and a white crisp shirt. I think my heart stops at the view.
I look down at my jeans and back to him. “You didn’t tell me I needed to dress up.”
He smiles. “That’s because you didn’t have to. You look amazing.” Yeah, in my Converse and jeans. “Please, come in. I was in and out of board meetings all day or I’d be casually dressed as well.” He holds the door and I walk into a dream. Holy penthouse. His place is like nothing I’ve ever seen. The art, the décor, and the fucking view. I just swirl around taking in everything. “Do you like?” he asks, watching my bewilderment.
“Yeah, it’s stunning.”
I watch him remove his tie and suit coat then unbutton the top two buttons on his dress shirt. “Yes,” he says.
“ Huh?”
“It’s yes, Mr. Black, not yeah,” he corrects me.
“Yes,” I stress and smile. “I’m not prim and proper, Silver, um, Mr. Silver.” I confuse myself.
“I like that you call me Silver. And as far as prim and proper is concerned, Mr. Black, you’re refreshing.” Refreshing? “I had my chef make a lovely chicken fettuccini dish. I hope it meets your satisfaction.”
“Anything’s better than ramen noodles.” He takes my hand. His hand is so strong. He leads me to the terrace. It’s dark and the terrace is lit with candles and lanterns. The view of Manhattan is breathtaking. In the center of the terrace is a table handsomely decorated for an intimate dinner for two. I’m beginning to think this is more than a business dinner. He pulls out my chair as I sit. I could get used to this.
“Tell me you eat more than ramen noodles?” He sits in the chair across from me. The chef, I assume, serves the plated dinner and rolls.
“I eat. Silver, don’t worry. I was joking.”
“Good. Would you like some wine?” I nod and he waves the man over to the table. He pours me a glass of white wine, but pours Silver water in his.
“You’re not having any wine?”
“I drink, but not often. I have several business meetings I need a clear mind for tomorrow. I don’t mind if you drink, though. In fact, I encourage it. It will relax you. It’s a lovely year.”
“Year?” I sip the wine.
“The wine, Mr. Black.”
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