Bad Luck Black Money Read online

  It didn't take many more dates until Esmerelda felt she had ownership of Boss. Whenever she saw him at work, she would go over and give him a big kiss on the mouth wherever they were. She kissed him in R&D, in the cafeteria, in the hallway, and even went into business meetings, unannounced, to lay a big smooch on him.

  Never being one, who liked displays of public affection, it totally flustered Boss when Esmerelda did touchy feely things in front of others to get attention. But then again, he had to suck it up or risk hurting her feelings.

  Boss figured Esmerelda hadn't had many boyfriends in her life, how could she? So, in a junior high school kind of way, she was showing off her ability to catch a man to anybody who would look. Many times, he had caught the foolish gaze of timecard punchers as they stared at the creature kissing him and wondered what it was about her that had captured his attentions. Was she some sort of sexual deviant? Was he? Oh, how he loathed the stares.

  Time passed until it was finally time for Boss to ask Esmerelda to marry him. He told her to meet him at the West Coast's premier diamond jeweler. He then asked her to pick out an engagement ring for a 'friend' of his. Coincidentally, his 'friend' had the exact same ring size as Esmerelda, so the ring could be fitted to her finger. Surprisingly, Esmerelda picked out a ring, which wasn't overly big and gaudy.

  Whispering into Esmerelda's ear, Boss said, "You can pick out something bigger. Money's not an issue for my 'friend'. Pretend it's for you and get what you like."

  "But this is the one, I like," said Esmerelda.

  "Up to you," spoke Boss as he moved away to look at some diamond earrings.

  Esmerelda walked up behind Boss and hugged him around the waist. Boss had to will himself not to tense up.

  "If a man were to ask me to marry him, I'd like for him to do it with a grand, public gesture."

  "You would? And how might he go about doing that?"

  "Well," said Esmerelda hugging Boss from behind even harder. "If a man had his own company and fell madly in love with a woman, who worked at said company, then he could pop the question over the intercom so the whole company could hear."

  "He could; could he?" asked Boss as he turned around while still in her embrace to face her.

  "Yes, and she couldn't say no, to an over-the-top, romantic gesture like that. I believe that would make her the happiest woman in the whole world."

  "I bet it would make all the other ladies green with envy."

  "True, but that's half the fun. Don't you think so?"

  "I'll certainly pass that info along.... So, do you think this upcoming Monday at ten in the morning would be a good time for a grand, romantic gesture?"

  Esmerelda kissed Boss in a passionate way for a long time with everyone in the store looking at them. She then said, "Monday would be the perfect day, and ten is the perfect time."

  Using more than a little effort, Boss extracted himself from Esmerelda's clutches and sent her home. He stayed at the jewelry store and bought her engagement ring, wedding ring, emerald earrings, and a matching emerald necklace.

  An award winning screenwriter was paid ten thousand dollars to write a few pages of romantic prose for Boss to read as his proposal of marriage to Esmerelda. Then Boss scheduled time in a professional recording studio to record his message of love that would play over the company's intercom system. And it was a good thing that he did, because it took seventeen tries to get it right. The recording engineer said the first sixteen takes sounded like a man prophesying about his upcoming execution.

  The dreaded day came too quickly, and Boss sat at his desk watching the last free seconds of his life ticking away. Knowing the events about to unfold were of his own doing, he took comfort in the vision of genius children running around his company, driving the workers crazy.

  He sent his secretary down to the Research and Development Department to make sure Esmerelda was ready. Peeking through a window, the secretary phoned Boss to say that Esmerelda was drawing some sort of formula on a white board.

  "Good a time as any," thought Boss as he pressed a button on his keyboard, starting his prerecorded message. As he listened to his fate being sealed, he put his head on his desk, closed his eyes, and braced himself for what he had to do next.

  Once the message finished playing, the whole building erupted in applause and cheers. Boss steeled himself, grabbed the velvet box containing the diamond engagement ring, and put a smile on his face. He walked out of his office. All the employees standing along the halls and in open doorways congratulated him as he made his way toward the R&D department.

  Esmerelda was waiting for him in the middle of a crowd of coworkers. Boss walked up to her, dropped to one knee, and asked Esmerelda to marry him. She screamed, "Yes!"

  Boss let everyone leave work early that day, since it would be impossible to accomplish anything under the circumstances. He took his bride to be, to a quaint, little teahouse by the ocean. They drank green tea and ate a variety of cookies (called biscuits by the little, old lady proprietor).

  Thinking it might be a good time to clear up some issues, Boss said, "Will you sign a prenuptial agreement?"

  With a mouth full of cookie, Esmerelda said, "Sure, you got it with you? I'll sign it right now."

  "No, darling," said Boss as he watched the half eaten cookie sloshing around in his betrothed's mouth. "You need to have your lawyer give it a once over before signing it. In the state of California, you have to do everything just right, or it can be overturned in court."

  "I don't want your money," said Esmerelda while sucking sugar crumbs off of her fingers. "I just want all of that good lovin' you got."

  "Yes, about that," Boss replied as he wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. "Don't you think that we should hold off on the sex until after we're married? It is the custom, after all."

  "Hell, no!" exclaimed Esmerelda. "When we get to your place, I'm going to break you like a wild stallion and put you away sopping wet."

  Two elderly ladies, seated nearby, looked disapprovingly at the newly engaged couple.

  "Sorry, ladies," apologized Boss who's face was turning red. "Esmerelda, please, keep you voice down."

  "It's not my fault," said Esmerelda as she slowly opened and closed her thighs. You're the one who stoked the fire within my loins. And when we get away from prying, old biddy eyes, you're going to work it like the sex crazed monkey that you are."

  "Check, please," called out one of the little, old ladies seated nearby.

  "Allow me, ladies," Boss said as they started getting up. "You're money is no good, here. I'm paying your bill."

  "Thank, you, young man," said the smaller of the women. "It's nice to see that some men still have manners, even if today's young ladies do not."

  Esmerelda shot them a drop-dead look, and called out, "Try not to break a hip on your way out."

  Mortified, Boss concentrated on stirring his cup of tea with a silver spoon. Sensing that she'd crossed a line, Esmerelda said, "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.... Normally, I'm not like that. It's just, when you threatened to stop giving me sex, I snapped."

  "Esmerelda, darling," said Boss in a soothing tone as he took her hand in his. "I'm not taking anything away from you. Conventional etiquette says we're supposed to abstain from marital relations until we're actually married. It makes the honeymoon more special, like two newlywed virgins on their first night together."

  "No... way!" screeched Esmerelda. "Now lets get up, go to your place, and screw like rabbits."

  "Wait, we need to talk. You indulge me now, and I'll make it up to you tonight."

  "I don't know," teased Esmerelda. "If you try to please me any harder, your lips might fall off."

  "That's exactly what I want to talk about," said Boss as he looked around, making sure nobody was eavesdropping. "I'm not an eighteen year old, love-machine, anymore. If you make me do it all the time, I'll drop dead."

  "You won't drop dead," said Esmerelda as she crossed her arms.

  "You don'
t know that," Boss retorted. "I'm fifteen years older than you. A man my age, can't make love every day."

  "I suppose I could live with us just making hot monkey sex every other day?"

  "You're not listening to what I'm saying, darling. I have multiple companies to run. Thousands of employees around the world count on me to keep food on their tables. A worn out Boss, is a worthless boss."

  "Lover, you're not a hundred years old. It's not going to kill you to make me squeal, every other day."

  Taking another long sip of tea, Boss knew that he'd approached these negotiations all-wrong. He had thought this was more of a personal matter and needn't come at it aggressively like a business deal. How wrong he was. Esmerelda had started bargaining from a position of strength. She asked for everything, and now he had to give her far more than he wanted to, because pushing harder for less intimacy would hurt her feelings.

  Biting into a chocolate cookie, which contained a grating of sweet coconut, Boss considered his predicament. There was no way; he was going to have sex with that wildebeest every other day. A man could only do so much to make a happy family. If Esmerelda was going to make the situation unlivable for him then he'd break it off and search elsewhere for a wife.

  "Bottom line," spoke Boss, all business like. "We do it twice a week, and you're lucky to get that much. Most married men have boring, routine sex with their wives. Statistics say frequency falls off a cliff after a couple of years of marriage. I'm offering you great sex, twice a week for as long as we're married.... Take it or leave it."

  "Twice a week, plus special occasions," counter offered Esmerelda.

  "Define 'special occasions'."

  "Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, crowning achievements by either of us or our children."

  It was the first time that Esmerelda had mentioned children. Whether it was a tactic or a sincere gesture, it melted Boss's resistance.

  "... Major holidays only. Secretary's day, Groundhog day, St. Patrick's Day, and the like, don't count," said Boss leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

  Esmerelda leaned forward, mimicking Boss's physical position. "Agreed, but St. Patrick’s Day counts because I'm going to wear a skimpy, lacey, green bra and matching panties. You'll be overcome with animal lust and have to ravage me on St. Patrick’s Day."

  "Deal," said Boss, extending his hand over the table to seal the deal.

  Esmerelda shook his hand and said, "Oh, we're going to do more than shake hands. I'm expecting some hot, monkey lovin' tonight."

  "It will be my pleasure," Boss said. Inwardly, he was dreading the upcoming romp with the witch, but happy that he'd dodged the every-other-day sex bullet.

  Now, here it was years later, and Boss was still living with the consequences from that fateful deal, made before he and Esmerelda were married. Time was ticking away and at any moment the orange haired, she-beast would walk through their bedroom door and demand sex. It was their child's birthday, and a deal was a deal.

  Esmerelda had held up her end of things by having three children, every one a certified genius. She was a great mother and made a nice home for the family. It wasn't her fault she was born hideous looking. She deserved steamy sex as much as the next woman, who by dumb luck happened to be born beautiful.

  At first, Boss had flown in the best makeup artists, hairdressers, and fitness trainers in the world to work on Esmerelda. He hoped that with enough work, his wife could become tolerable to the eye, if not pleasant to look at. But as the saying goes, 'you can put a pig in a prom dress, but it still won't be homecoming queen'. Every improvement in Esmerelda highlighted her many flaws, making her even less attractive, in comparison to her old self. So, Boss just decided to give up and learn to live with it.

  Esmerelda walked into their bedroom, kicking off her shoes, which would be picked up by the maid later. She hopped up on the bed beside Boss and rubbed his stomach with her hands.

  "How's my man feeling?"

  "I'm a little better, but still not one hundred percent."

  "That's too bad. Should I call the doctor?"

  "No, lets give it till morning. I'm sure I'll be feeling better by then."

  "What about our lovemaking? I'm supposed to get some of that good stuff tonight," said Esmerelda as her hands starting drifting closer to his crotch.

  "I'm sorry, babe," Boss said. "How would you feel about a rain check?"

  Esmerelda stopped what she was doing and sat up on the bed. "I don't know.... I'm pretty horny."

  "I promise I'll make it up to you when I feel better," pleaded Boss.

  "Well... if you were to give me two rain checks then I guess that'd be OK."

  "Two!?... OK, fine," said Boss as Esmerelda lay beside him with her arm draped across his chest.

  Sometimes, he worried that Esmerelda was too smart for his own good.

  Chapter 16

  Sarge sat in his office with his feet propped up on his desk. He knew that he should be down in the company gym, exercising with the ex-military bodyguards, which acted as Boss's personal army. But he really didn't want to. Age was starting to catch up with him.

  The last action he'd seen wasn't even related to his job as chief of security, at Pluto Technologies. He had used up an entire year's worth of vacation time to help the boss's son, Emerald, import a bunch of gold coins. "Rich people spend their money on the silliest things," he thought.

  As payment for services rendered, Sarge had carted away one hundred, one ounce, gold coins. Not a bad haul for so little work. His small hoard of coins was literally tucked away inside the box springs underneath his mattress at home. It might be cliché, but in all his years of hiding things, nothing had ever gone missing from any of his mattresses.

  Actually, Sarge wished that he'd left a lot more valuables hidden away for a rainy day than he did. Other than the hundred gold coins and a generous pension from Pluto Technologies when he retired, he had nothing. Money seemed to flee from his grasp like the negative end of one magnet from the negative end of another.

  The sole purpose of his existence was skirt chasing. When he thought about it, that's were most of his money went over the years, too. Even during his latest trip to Thailand, which netted him his hundred ounces of gold, he'd spent close to twenty thousand dollars of his own money on high priced call girls. And he couldn't even get the discount rates for whole nights because having a whore sleep over was too big of a risk with all that gold around, even if they were expensive whores.

  If he were to be totally honest with himself, Sarge would have to admit that a few of the call girls he used weren't actually girls at all, but Thai males dressed in drag. Blame it on his English blood, but every now and then he had to let the kink out or it'd devour him from within.

  Originally, Sarge had planned on retiring to Japan and spend his final days chasing young, Japanese women around with his giant penis. Early on in his military career, he'd been stationed in Osaka, Japan. Some of his fondest memories were of scaring the local lasses with his eight and a half inches of trouser sausage. The girls would scream, "Oh, no! Tentacle monster!" and run around in circles, giggling.

  Those days were gone. Modern Japan was prosperous and proudly racist. In years past, his 'whiteness' had been an asset in Japan. Now, it was a nonstarter with fair skinned, dark haired, Japanese ladies who were too good for even most Japanese men. This left

  emasculated Japanese men to import their women from poorer Asian countries. But none of this mattered because Japan was too expensive for any but the richest of whoremongers.

  Sarge had considered South Korea as a replacement retirement destination, but the same problems of prosperity and racism put a stop to that. The world was changing. At one point in time, he could take his first world earnings and live like a king almost anywhere in the world. But globalization had leveled out the playing field, and he didn't like it one bit.

  Lately, he'd heard good things about Africa. It was still possible to live the good life in the poorest of the poor co
untries on the continent. But then again, AIDS was rampant there. And half the fun of mongering to him was the fear on the faces of the women when they first saw his massive trouser snake. Somehow, he doubted many of the African chicks would be afraid. In the course of his career, Sarge had showered with guys from Africa. And the rumors were true. Some of their dicks in comparison to his, made him feel like a little boy among grown men.

  No, what Sarge needed was money. Money could turn back the clock and put him back on top of the hottest whores. All he needed was tons of money, and the only question was, "How to get it?"

  The hardline phone on his desk rang, interrupting his thought process. It was strange to see the old-fashioned phone ring because it never rang. When someone wanted him, they would call him on his cell phone. Picking up the receiver, Sarge answered, "Hello?"

  "Hello, with whom am I speaking?" asked a voice on the line.

  "This is Sarge Cornwall. What can I do for you?"

  "Thank heavens," said a voice on the phone. "I've been trying to reach someone in a position of power there for quite some time. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Tom Ridge, personal secretary to his Dukedom, Duke Rochester Winterfield.... Is the Duke known to you, Mr. Cornwall?"

  "Yes," answered Sarge, perking up. "It's an honor to speak with you, Mr. Ridge."

  "The pleasure is entirely mine, good sir," said Tom. "The reason for my call is to inform Mr. Hopenhammer that his Dukedom wishes to set up a face-to-face meeting as soon as possible. How about tonight at eight o'clock at the Slutty Teasers?"

  "Tonight?" asked Sarge.

  "Yes, his Dukedom has traversed the Atlantic Ocean just for this meeting."

  "Well, I don't know, Tom. Boss is a very busy man. Have you tried talking to his secretary?"

  "Don't get me started on that vile woman. She refused to put me through to Mr. Hopenhammer.... We know that you're a good citizen formerly in Her Majesty’s service. Perhaps, you can get the message through to him, kind sir?"