Nadrea boarded the Acela at Union Station that would put her at Penn Station a few minutes before nine, so a quick subway ride and a cab weather permitting should have had in her firm’s New York office by 9:15. As she sat in her business class seat the train rumbled it’s way along to the Mecca of the American business world. Her look a demure office look consisting of slightly longer than knee length skirt, matching jacket. The only thing showing that was quasi stylish were her shoes. Then again what couldn’t be seen was her was he G string that boasted in burgundy silk screened letters “Use Any Entrance”

Nadrea was a practical woman when it came to not burdening herself with mundane tasks, the only thing she had in tow was a brief case with a lap top, two documents to review while on the train and a small assortment of makeup and a small book sized reading light. The remainder of what she might need in New York had been over nighted two days earlier to her parent’s house, where the staff at her direction had unpacked her garment bags, pressed and re-hung a collection of dresses, both formal and casual, club wear and workout clothes for her Central Park runs. They left, as instructed, her two other “necessities” bags unopened, no one even dared to peek for a check of the contents. Most of the homes staff had been around for years and had a fairly good idea of the type of tyrant Nadrea was, she was very much her mother’s daughter. If there was any inclination to her lifestyle choices they never spoke of them, it was for all they knew fairly normal for a privileged life to have peculiar needs.

The train arrived an excruciating three minutes late, at least it was three minutes late according to Nadrea’s watch. This was the type of simple thing that would send her into an absolute tirade about the inefficiencies of the American train system compare to always runs like clock work transportation systems of European nations. Nadrea continued her discourse rambling nearly incoherently out loud as she walked through Penn Station, on the subway and the station until she finally arrived above ground stepping out for the first time in recent history into the streets of the City she grew up in. It was a nice day so she opted to walk rather than take the five block cab ride. Nadrea stormed into the office with all the grace and dignity of a conquering barbarian devastating another culture for fun and profit. She was instantly back in her New York bitch mode before the door to her office was even opened. This was a temperament that made her DC persona look like a Mother Teresa. Her Greeting to the receptionist was “Where am I?”

“Guest office D on 33.” She responded in an all business manner before adding “Nice to have you here.”

“Thanks. It’s a nice change of scenery.” Nadrea stated in a tone that had a borderline civility to it and lacking its usually sarcasm drenched alliteration. The receptionist was stunned Nadrea had never been so polite before, polite of course being a relative term.

Vincent sat at a financial institution in Lower Manhattan weaving the same tale over and over again, impassioned explanations of the company’s history. A rousing rendition backed with detailed impeccable research on the market opportunity. He extolled the virtues of the board and the executive team. By that point in the week the deal was all but done it was as they say in golf a “gimmie.” That didn’t matter because Vincent was playing for keeps, any advantage negotiated, offered or won was well worth having.

His solid blue Hickey Freeman suit and custom tailored Canali shirt combined with he all business tone set the mood in a place where the home team always sets the tone. It was like an MBA vocabulary course and as the terms flew fast and furious the end of the meetings grew near. The credit terms were not for ongoing operations, a typical line of credit and debt financing, no it was not that well intentioned. Vincent was securing a war chest. He now had the backing of a larger and more powerful foreign army marching into battle with him and his soul crushing, company consuming, competition decimating funding level. Some people were made for certain things, it defined who they are and how they live. There are selfless parents, inspirational clergy, selfless miracle working doctors, but in addition to all the good there is also bad. The natural born killers, the tyrants, and thieves, somewhere in the middle were guys like Vincent. Deals made him come alive, it was what made his heart race. Money was a motivator, but it had become the score card and too much was never enough because there was something else; winning. To the victor goes the spoils but there is also always a wake of destruction and defeat for both friend and foe along the way. It was what happened to those who walk in the wake of the mighty.

So while Vincent pitched and schmoozed Nadrea screamed abusively into the speaker phone in her guest office, she was not born to be at all maternal or caring, she was not soft or gentle and those were not attributes in others that she found alluring. In a moment of silence as she poured through emails New York New York’s muffled melody escaped from her brief case.

“Daddy” she answered.

“One second Nadrea, I’ll put you through” a pleasant female voice added and the phone rang once .

“Hi”.

“Fuck Daddy! You know I hate that!”

Undaunted he began “Nice to talk to you too.”

Nadrea snapped back “Why can’t you dial me yourself?”

He laughed “Fat fingers, just be glad that you don’t have my mother’s hands” Nadrea doesn’t reply so he continues “When are you coming in?” Sighing heavily like the entire universe should through osmosis be all to aware of her schedule and intentions she responds “I’m here now, why?”

That was his chance the opportunity to be fatherly, a chance to connect with her again on some level other that the superficial one that they existed on.

“Are you staying at the house?” he asked missing the opportunity to connect beyond the conversation on basic logistics of her trip. It was rare she stayed at her parent’s house but typically she had given instructions on where to send her clothes.

Nadrea’s voice lost its edge “I’m not sure yet?” realizing that it had never been discussed, she assumed that she would stay with Vincent. Then again she had never asked and he had never offered, not a single detail about when and where she was expected to stay. The pair had not spent a minute or even a second of time in a dream like slumber in the presence of other. Suddenly she realized that she had again followed that man without knowing where they were going or what the plan was. This time it was not up the street, or across town or even into the suburb, but to a different city hours away from where she lived on a few simple words and a vague invitation.

“It would be nice to have you around.” Daddy offered a request almost as vague as Vincent’s.

“I’m, here til Sunday” a noncommittal answer. “But I’ll stay at the house tonight, but it’ll be late since I have dinner plans with a friend” Daddy was just happy to have her around knowing the best time they would get together would be over tea in the morning “Great should I make brunch plans for four on Sunday” he said

“I don’t know daddy, that’s not what I had in mind.” She said coolly.

“Look Nod I’m offering, it would be nice to have a little extra time with you.”

“Fine Daddy but not before 12:30, OK?”

Daddy was elated, she was going to stay at the house at least one night and flush with his recent parental success. “Just so I know ahead of time your friend, what’s her name?” “His name is Vincent Daddy, see you in the morning.”

Next Chapter A Sexy Latin on 54th

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