Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(76)
Gatt-Dieren Capital, November 22, 2019
Alexander Van Dieren
It’s hard not to think about her, to resist her kisses, her laughter, her fondles. She seems so innocent, and yet she’s given me more pleasure than any woman before. Pleasure without penetration, without blow jobs, without even touching me. But she doesn’t need to do any of that to make me sweat, to make me lose my mind, and to make me cum. After all, I know it’s not about sex, games, or anything like that. My heart is at her mercy. I trust her entirely with it, even blindly. But strangely enough, I’m not afraid. It just feels right. I picture something in my mind. Something that makes me smile as I look at the financial audit, but it’s not because of the positive results.
“Well, looks like Monday we are finally good to sign,” I declare.
“Indeed,” replies Roy, attentively scanning the last details of the contract. “We will need to go to Singapore following the acquisition, elect the new board and new management, and meet with those government officials who made the deal quite a bit easier.”
“I know.”
“We have to thank everyone who made this possible, and show them our support,” adds Roy.
“I’m hosting a celebration at my estate following the signing. I thought about doing it in a restaurant, or somewhere here in Manhattan, but inviting them over will create a deeper bond.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Indeed, we always need them on our side.”
“Exactly.” I take a sip of my water. “Roy,” I say assertively, “I need to talk to you privately in my office after the celebration. Maria will escort you.”
Roy raises both eyebrows. “What is it about?” He looks intently at me, his eyes worried. “Don’t tell me you intend to move to Singapore and be the new managing director?”
I shake my head in amusement. “No. It has nothing to do with work.”
“Personal?” He thinks further. “You and Rafaela?”
“No. We’re not together. She was just for fun.” But Roy doesn’t stop there—he gets even more worried. “Are you sick?”
I can’t stop laughing. “Roy, relax. We’ll talk next week. I’m healthy, I’m not leaving New York, and it’s not Rafaela. It’s all good. Now, if you excuse me, I’ve got a meeting.” I stand up from my chair and give him a soft pat on his shoulder.
“Very well…” He sighs in annoyance, knowing he’ll have to wait until next week to find out. “In case I don’t see you again today, have a great evening. And enjoy the weekend,” he says a bit louder as I leave his office.
Bedford Hills, November 25, 2019
Roy Van Gatt
The dinner has brought together the entire management division of Gatt-Dieren Capital, the team from our new acquisition, the lawyers and auditors who made it possible, and some government officials from Singapore. Alex was right—everyone seems delighted to visit his estate. I’m as radiant as ever, enjoying and savoring the moment, my eyes glittering as I think about the big capital expansion and how 2020 will be an even more profitable year. I’m on cloud nine. After a long dinner and a good amount of wine, I continue chatting idly with Paulo, celebrating as if it’s New Year’s Eve. After the lawyers, auditors, and other stakeholders steadily head back to Manhattan, just our closest friends remain.
“You should have brought some of your Brazilian friends,” I tease Paulo, already half tipsy.
“Indeed, now that work is over, I should call them over,” he replies.
“Mr. Van Gatt?” I turn at the sound of Maria’s voice. “Mr. Van Dieren would like to talk to you in private. He is waiting for you in his office. May I escort you?”
“Oh, thank you, Maria. Sure.” I take the last sip of my delicious whiskey, a Balvenie fifty-year-old single malt opened specially for the occasion.
I follow Maria at a nervous pace. After all, I don’t know what Alex has on his mind or why he needs to see me in his office tonight to discuss it. We usually talk everywhere—lounges, restaurants, bars—and why tonight? Why right after the acquisition of the Singaporean hedge fund? I have no idea, but I’ll soon find out. Maria knocks on his door then opens it. Alex’s sitting on his high-back tufted chair. He has already removed his tie and jacket, keeping only his waistcoat on, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a glass in hand. He smiles warmly, stands up, and walks toward me.
“Ah, Roy. Please come in. May I offer you a drink? I see yours is empty.”
“Sure, you know me. Thank you.” He takes my glass and walks over to the bar to prepare a new one.
It has been a while since I’ve been here. As I wait for him, my eyes begin curiously darting around. I must admit, his office is of a rare, classic beauty with cherrywood paneling, tufted light-brown leather chairs, and tall windows with carmine-colored drapes. I love the welcoming fireplace on my left and the high-standing bookshelves on my right. I wish my library were this vast, but this must be a centuries-old collection inherited from his family. Then I look up to the chandeliers and the dark coffered ceiling. “I forgot how opulent this place was,” I note aloud.
Alex raises an eyebrow, glancing quickly around. “It’s okay,” he replies without an ounce of enthusiasm.