Chapter 5 No mistakes

Grayson hadn’t been all that surprised by having every orifice of his body swabbed so he could gain entry into The Cobra Club. Not even being the third richest man in the city was enough to get him out of the club’s stringent STI screenings. He’d also been expecting the finger poke to test a drop of his blood for other diseases too. He’d been warned by his best friend, and his cousin Spencer, about the entry process to get into the club. Even though he had no plans of fucking anyone here tonight, in order to even gain access to his family’s penthouse, he had to drop his pants and open his mouth to cooperate with the tech in the screening room. But being an elite had allowed him to bypass the line, through a back entrance discreetly, where none of the public saw him. His anonymity and request of discretion were also respected by the club staff who brought him up service corridors and hallways, so he was seen by as very few people as possible. And those who had laid eyes on him in passing, were all club personnel, with legally binding contracts of non-disclosure. This club had high profile clientele from all walks of life and their identities were well protected. He expected no less when it came to his own privacy, and if a breech did occur, this club would pay for it handsomely. He’d have them up to their eyeballs in costly legal proceedings for years to come, likely bankrupting them in the process. And when he discovered the actual source of the leak, he’d destroy that individuals life in all ways possible. He had a reputation to uphold. Men like him didn’t need to pay for sex. So, the billionaire was not surprised by what he experienced in the screening room, or the staff members in scandalous costumes gawking at him on the way up to the penthouse, nor all their attempts to try and accommodate him. He’d turned three scantily dressed beautiful women away, and one man too, before a new tide appeared to try and appease him. He didn’t need to be serviced in any ways, nor did he want their company. He could pour his own damn drinks. Could adjust the temperature in his room himself. Wipe his own ass. No, he wasn’t hungry or in need of any other beverages besides the collection already in the antique liquor cabinet in the penthouse. He had an agenda. Only one woman he had any interest in seeing at the club that night. He wasn’t surprised by the old world, masculine décor of the room. The walls paneled in dark real wood from a time nearly forgotten. An old billiards table in the corner, a massive stone fireplace, and nineteenth century leather Bergère armchairs seated near the fire. The tone of the room was male and powerful, even down to its smell of leather and sandalwood. Whatdidsurprise him, was the vast book collection in the penthouse. He ran his fingers over several spines, some leather bound first editions. He wondered how many titles had been influenced by his grandfather and Adam, because Father had never been much of a reader. He had planned on looking over the girl’s file once more while he waited for her to be summoned but had found much more interesting reading material on the shelves. “I’ll be damned. You would have loved this place Grandfather. Though Grandmother would have boxed your ears for sure,” he chuckled to himself, “I can certainly see it’s appeal. II can also see Adam’s hand here. This book was his favorite though I found it quite dull.” A smile touched his lips when he felt the cover of Adam’s favorite book, The Adventures Of Tom Sawyer . When they were kids they’d reenacted Tom’s adventures with his friend Huck, building rafts at the lake house to become pirates. They’d spent most of the summer running around like heathens from sunup till sundown, building forts, catching frogs and snakes, eating blackberries straight from the vine, skinning knees, and getting into mischief. Their skin would be brown, and their hair lightened to nearly blonde by summer’s end. One year, Mother had even hidden some fake treasure for them to find on one of their scavenger hunts. Those were the good old days. Before he learned the world wasn’t a place where imagination and daydreams could thrive. And that no one lived forever, some didn’t even make it to twenty. Only the good truly seemed to die young. With a sense of melancholy, Grayson settled himself into an armchair near the fire with the book in hand. But he’d barely cracked it open when the door to the penthouse opened once more. This time a Latino woman in a skimpy golden body suit entered. It was then he caught on to their game, realizing that each member of staff sent into the room was of different ethnicities. The club was bending over backwards to find one that would catch his fancy. He let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the tension building between his eyes as the woman approached. She gave him a smile, but it seemed forced. She looked anxious, perhaps it was the shock of seeing a well-known face, or his reputation proceeding him. “I hope I’m not disturbing you Mr. Godwin, but I was sent to make sure you had everything you needed. Or if I could be of any assistance? Can I get you anything sir?” He slammed the book shut in his lap roughly. The sound made the golden goddess flinch. He got to his feet and approached until he was only inches away from her. “Do you find yourself a reasonably intelligent person?” he asked. She definitely was taken aback by the question. She gave a nervous laugh. “I suppose so sir. I graduated with honors.” “Good. Then I trust I won’t have to repeat myself again this evening when I convey that I do not wish to be disturbed. It seems the five individuals who entered this room before you couldn’t understand those simple instructions. Make sure that no one else enters that door except for the Head Goddess. Do I make myself clear? Respond if you understand.” She nodded and found another tight smile, “I’m sorry about that Mr. Godwin. I’ll make sure to make your wishes known that you are not to be disturbed again until the Head Goddess arrives. My apologies sir. It won’t happen again.” He turned his back on the woman as he headed towards the liquor cabinet. He needed it to steady his nerves. He also needed to take one of his anxiety pills, but that would have to wait until he was alone again. “Make sure that it doesn’t. You are dismissed.” The woman left without another word, only the click of the door to announce her departure. He fixed himself a scotch on the rocks, swirling the ice around the glass like Grandfather Warren always used to do before he took a drink. “You gotta soak up every last drop boys,” he would always say. It took Grayson years to understand his grandfather hadn’t just been talking about scotch. Adam had taken those word’s to heart and lived his short life to the fullest. He’d also tried new things, dived in headfirst while his little brother often watched from the shoreline, and he found joy and wonder in everything, Even the mundane things, like a street musician panhandling for tips in the subway, or a dog in the park, would bring a smile to Adam’s face. It had been a long time since Grayson had found joy or wonder in anything. Grayson placed the book back into its spot on the shelf. The time for games and reminiscing was through. Summer had ended in more ways than one. He threw back his head to swallow down the pill from the bottle in his suit jacket. He chased it with a sip of scotch. He placed himself in the chair once more, this time with the girl’s file in his lap. He read over the contents again. It helped to be prepared. This time he would not be blindsided. He knew everything there was to know about his next surrogate. This time there would be no mistakes.