The Love Of Money - Episode 22
26-07-25 (08:29)
Introduction:
Marcus and Bobbi have it out over dinner.
Monday 8:15 pm
"We're here, Mr. Upton."
"Uh, yeah." said, coming out of my thousand-mile stare
out the window at the lights of the casino Terrence had
pulled up to. "Thanks."
I sat in the black SUV for a moment longer, thinking
about the demon I was going to face. Bobbi had made
my work life a living hell, and she was a large part of
why I'd dreaded going to work every day, and now I
had the opportunity to return the favor. I just wasn't
sure if I had the stomach for it.
"Will there be anything else, sir?"
"No," I said, opening the door and starting to get out. I
hesitated and looked back at the opening in the
partition where' I could see Terrence looking at me. "Do
I need to tip you or something?"
He chuckled, "That won't be necessary, sir. Mr.
VanCamp pays me very well. Thank you though. You're
a good man."
I nodded and met his smile with my own forced one
and said, "Alright. Thanks. Have a good night Terrence."
I closed the door and whispered, "That's me. A good
man."
Right now, I wasn't so sure.
Taking a deep breath, I turned to behold the front
entrance of Solomon's Palace. It was known as one of
the most expensive casinos in New York City, catering
to the very wealthy and privileged. If there were any
upper middle class, they were likely there as a guest of
the class with most of the money, or they were
blowing savings on a once-in-a-lifetime splurge 'just to
see what it's like'. I hadn't really given any thought to
why I told Bobbi to come to this place, but I might have
just been looking for some other way of putting her on
her back foot.
Gathering my resolve, I strode toward the casino. A
doorman at the entrance gave me a smile and held the
door open for me and said, "Welcome to the Solomon's
Palace, sir!" I nodded and gave him a smile. "Thanks.
Where's your restaurant? I'm meeting someone here."
He pointed, "Just down the hall and to the left."
I followed his directions, walking down the massive hall
completely arrayed in gaudy red velvet and gold trim. A
sign was fixed to a massive entrance to my left that
displayed the name of a restaurant - Solomon's Palace
Fine Dining - and a list of featured items on the menu.
A lot of the options available here cost more than half
my month's rent.
Pinching myself still made it difficult to believe I wasn't
dreaming. Here I was standing in an expensive suit in
the lobby of Solomon's Palace after being dropped off
by an employee who worked for one of the most
prestigious law firms in New York. The whole thing
filled me with a sense of dysphoria. The fact that I was
here to confront someone I hated more than just about
anyone else only exacerbated the feeling.
"I'm here to meet someone," I told the hostess, a lovely
woman in her mid-twenties with white-blonde hair.
"Of course, sir. And your name?"
I hesitated, wondering whether or not I should actually
give her my name, but then I remembered that Helen
had arranged the reservation for me after we'd finished
our... meeting that afternoon. She hadn't given me an
alter-nate name to use.
"Um, Marcus Upton?"
"Oh!" She said, her eyebrows shooting up in recognition
as she found my name on her list. "Right this way sir!"
She led me through one of the nicest restaurants I'd
ever seen in my life, and I found myself looking around
at all the gorgeous people wearing nice clothes eating
expensive food. An entire world had been opened to
me that I had only seen in movies.
As I followed her, my mind raced, wondering what the
hell the game plan was. Obviously, we were going to
eat, but why the fuck had I invited her out on a date?
She clearly hadn't wanted to come. She'd thrown my
meager background and my in-state college in my face
repeatedly, so was I just looking to rub my wealth in
her face? Was I going to stick her with the bill? Should I
call the cops after dessert and have her arrested?
Hi, police? This is Marcus Upton. I found out today that
this woman is stealing from me, but I wanted to take
her out to dinner and feed her a souffle before you
arrest her. Yes, I'll be pressing charges.
The entire idea sounded dumb, but the alter-native just
sounded dark. As with most casinos, this one had hotel
rooms. I should know because Helen had booked me
the most expensive one.
There was no way in hell Bobbi was going to be
interested in sharing a hotel room with me.
She led me through a pair of doors that opened into a
private room with its own table and a personal waiter.
It even had a fireplace with a roaring blaze in it. The
temperature outside wasn't exactly cold, but the room's
temperature had been adjusted so that the warmth of
the fire was comfortable.
Bobbi was absolutely stunning. Her light brown hair
shone in the low flicker of the fire, her grey eyes
meeting mine with a look I'd never seen; every time I'd
locked eyes with her in the past, there'd been nothing
but contempt. I'd expected the same now, but this time
she had a look of wariness and uncertainty, which did
wonders for my confidence. In fact, my entire
experience since I'd walked into the casino seemed to
calm my nerves. Everyone had treated me with
importance bordering on reverence. It made me feel
powerful. Bobbi with that deer-in-the-headlights look in
her eyes made me feel it even more.
"Welcome to Solomon's Palace, sir," the waiter said as
he approached the other side of the table and pulled
out a chair for me. I glanced over my shoulder just in
time to see the hostess close the door behind me.
"Um... thanks," I said as I took the seat provided. I
glanced at Bobbi and mentally kicked myself at not
sounding confident in front of her. Bobbi was smart and
opportunistic - a predator who would pounce on any
sign of weakness. I didn't want to show her my throat.
"The lady has already ordered Kobe beef carpaccio and
a 1973 Château Petrus. Is there anything you'd like to
start with?"
I glanced at Bobbi, and though the uncertainty was still
in her bright grey eyes, she arched an eyebrow at me
as if daring me to complain about the fact that she'd
presumed to order before I'd arrived - it was probably
the most expensive wine and appetizer on the menu. I
did my best to not give her the satisfaction of reacting.
I looked back up at the waiter.
"What's your naте?"
"Roderick, sir."
"You know what, Roderick? It's my first time here. Bring
us one of everything on the appetizer meпu."
Roderick hesitated and glanced at Bobbi. What had she
already told him?
"Everything, sir?"
"Everything, Roderick. And please bring four more
wines. Some of the best you have, but you choose
them, if you don't mind."
"Ah... yes sir." He looked at Bobbi, "Is there anything
else I can get you?"
She glanced at Karl, then me. I could tell she was
weighing her options. "Go ahead and bring two of
everything," she said, looking back at Roderick. I don't
like sharing."
She smirked at me, daring me to protest. Instead, I
picked up my menu and started looking it over as if it
didn't bother me. I managed to keep my eyes from
popping when I realized that the menus didn't even
have prices on them, so I couldn't do the mental math
to see how much of a bill we'd already accrued. The
wealthy really did like living on the edge, didn't they?
Once again, I had to remind myself that this was all
inconsequential. Helen's team had already transferred a
bank account to my name that held several million
dollars in it just to get me started. Any amount of
money spent tonight was like breaking off a chunk of
ice to cool my drink. That chunk of ice came from an
iceberg the size of a small continent.
I heard the door shut a few minutes later, signifying
that Roderick had left, and looked up at Bobbi, giving
her a sweet smile. "I don't know about you, but I've
had a really long day, and I'm ready to eat."
The smirk slipped from Bobbi's lips slightly, which was
one of the best things I'd experienced in weeks. That
was coming from a guy who had buried his cock in
Helen after inheriting over nine-hundred billion dollars.
That's how much I hated this bitch.
"What the fuck happened to you?" Bobbi dropped all
pretense of having control of this situation.
"None of your fucking business," I said, giving her my
best sickly sweet smile.
"I don't have to put up with this," Bobbi snapped as she
threw her napkin out of her lap and stood up.
"Sit down,"I said.
"No," she said, picking up her phone and purse. "Fucking
have me
arrested. I'll spend a couple years in prison and get out
on good behavior. It's better than having to put up with
your shit."
She walked out the door without looking back.
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