A Love 32 Years Apart

Drunk Girl

I had a soak in a bathtub that could fit probably five people in it. After my bath, I nervously waited for Clarence to summon me. Then, I fell asleep.

'He didn't summon me. Did he forget me?' I wondered. He did not. He wasn't going to do it with me back then.

One month went by. Clarence spent most of his time working overseas and would only come back occasionally. Every time he did, he would catch up with me and ask how I was doing.

I put on a few pounds during my time living there. Just when I was going to ask my lawyer if the contract was legit, I got paid.

I held my phone, counting all the zeroes in my account. I laughed so hard that the bed might actually break. I got myself a nice, cushy job. My boss didn't really micromanage me. In fact, he would only indulge me even when I made some outrageous requests like getting a jewelry set that was worth more than my yearly salary at an auction.

I kept pushing the limits. When I realized Clarence wouldn't get mad no matter what I did, I got cocky. My ego was pushing me further and further ahead. I'd bring a whole entourage of bodyguards with me just for a shopping trip.

I could feel everyone staring at me enviously, and I enjoyed it. I'd go to get-togethers with friends wearing the most expensive clothes money could buy. Then, they would give me the jealous stares, which I also enjoyed.

My friends egged me on, and I bought the priciest wine the bar had. They made me drink until I was blackout drunk. At the end of the day, the bodyguards dragged me home. My arrogance and hubris found fertile soil to grow, and grow they did.

However, no one was there to clean up all the dirt and filth around my ego. Suffice it to say, they overwhelmed me.

When I came home blackout drunk the third time, Clarence was at home. I was humming out of tune, and my tight dress was nearly off, revealing my body. My face was covered in red marks from strangers' kisses.

Clarence was on his couch, fiddling with his thumb ring. He looked at me darkly, his silence deafening. I tilted my head. My brain was so muddled that I thought he was a model at the bar. So, I took off my heels and trotted up to him, staring intently.

Clarence frowned and wiped off the marks on my face. I boldly kissed his cheek and stuffed a wad of cash down his collar. Everything stopped for a moment, and everyone stared at us.

Driven by my oversized arrogance, I said, "You're an old fogey, but you're hot. How much do I have to pay you for a night?"

Clarence's lashes trembled. "How much do you have?"

I held up my phone, showing him my bank balance. "As much as you want!"

The butler buried his face in his hand and immediately put a stop to the conversation. He asked Clarence to calm down, telling him I was acting out of line because I was drunk. Then, he took the hangover cure Mrs. Wolfgang gave him and shoved it down my throat.

I complained, "Ugh, what is this? It's shit. Give me the best booze you have!" I thought the butler was my bodyguard. So, I pointed at Clarence. "And get me more models! They have to at least be as handsome as this one!"

Clarence sneered. "You want more men?"

I nodded, still immersed in the girl I would pose as whenever my friends were around. "Yeah. One's not enough for me…"

Clarence asked, "And how many do you need?"

I paused. How should I know? I've never done it before. Still, I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of a hot guy. So, I boasted, "At least seven or eight!"

Clarence chortled. I rubbed my forearms. Things got a little cold all of a sudden.