chapter 4

Dylan

I woke up to the sound of my alarm blaring. Slowly opening my eyes, I shielded my face from the sun peeking in through the open window in my room.

"What time is it?" I muttered to no one in particular and reached out to grab my phone.

I saw that I had missed all my alarms this morning and was already late for work. My head throbbed as I groggily pulled myself out of bed, serving as an annoying reminder of what I had gotten up to last night.

"Kathy?" I called out as I stepped out of my room in my morning robe. "Are you still here?"

To my surprise, I was met with silence. I strolled around the living room, noticing that her bag wasn't there anymore. A faint disappointment settled over me as I realized that she had likely left before I had woken up.

"Must be an early riser," I mumbled to myself, and went over to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The cool liquid poured down my throat, acting as a remedy for my parched mouth and aching head.

At forty-four, I just couldn't handle a night full of drinking any more as I used to ten years ago. By no means I was in my prime anymore.

As I looked out my window at the city skyline, my mind immediately went back to the night before and how... useful that windowsill had proven to be. Something stirred in my crotch and I felt the remnants of my primal arousal.

I was no stranger to one-night stands. Plenty of women were interested in me. If it was for my good looks and charming personality or the fact that I was a billionaire heading a successful company, I wasn't sure. But I liked to think that it was likely a combination of both.

The chase was exciting. I would find myself courting these gorgeous women, impressing them with my charm, and then ending up sleeping with them. But the next morning, the excitement would wear off. They'd make breakfast for me and try to convince me to start a relationship with them, never succeeding. Without alcohol to dampen my senses, they all seemed boring and the only thing I wanted was to be rid of them.

I found my mind circling back to thoughts of Kathy. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't even try to stick around and get my phone number that made her stand out to me. It was refreshing and it added a sense of mystique.

Did she have more important things to do that she couldn't wait for me? From the way she carried herself, I could tell that she was a woman who meant business. She felt like a challenge.

My phone rang, pulling me out of my thoughts. The caller ID flashed my mother's name. I hesitated for a moment before answering, wondering what she wanted at this hour.

"Dylan!" my mother's excited voice greeted me from the other end of the line.

"Hello, Mom," I tried to sound cheerful.

"How are you doing?" she asked in her usual doting tone. "I waited for you to call me this weekend."

"I'm sorry, I just got busy with work," I replied.

"It’s alwaysworkwith you," she said. "Sometimes I wonder if you ever take any time off."

A mischievous smile formed on my face as I thought back to the night I’d had. But I wiped it away quickly, clearing my throat.

"You know how it is, Mom," I replied. "It's not easy running a multibillion-dollar company."

"I know, and I'm so proud of all of your accomplishments," she replied. "I was just talking about you with your father at breakfast earlier. It's a shame that you haven't come home to visit in a while."

I frowned at the mention of my father. Even the mere mention of him was enough to bring up several unpleasant memories. The two of us had a strained relationship, to say the least. Growing up, he had been an absent father. It wasn't as though he didn't love me, but his love for the bottle came before anything else. All my memories of childhood consisted of him coming home late, drunk and neglecting most of his responsibilities.

“How have you been doing, Mom?” I changed the topic swiftly, bringing the focus to her.

“Oh, no,” she resisted. “I haven’t called to talk about how I’m doing. I have something more important that I need to discuss with you.”

“And what would that be?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Dylan, as your mother, I constantly worry about you,” she replied in a serious tone.

I let out a chuckle. “Mom, you just admitted that I’m doing quite well for myself. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Of course, your work life is excellent,” she conceded. “But I meant your personal life. When are you going to settle down? You always used to tell me that you’re too young for that, but now I think it’s time that you find a partner to share the rest of your life with.”

“I’m married to my work,” I replied tartly. This wasn’t a new conversation.

Relationships were a sore subject for me. Years ago, I’d thought I found love with a woman. I had been so in love that I felt sure she was the person I would spend the rest of my life with. But life threw me a curveball when I found her in bed with one of my associates. Since then, my trust in relationships had shattered completely. Commitment felt like it was too much of a gamble and I never played a game where I stood a chance of losing.

“Does work wait at home for you at the end of a long day?” she questioned, not ready to give up.

“Mom, I know your heart is in the right place but I’m just not looking for a serious commitment with anyone right now,” I sighed. Her nagging was making my headache worse, and I wanted to get rid of both.

“Dylan, I’m only getting older. It’s my dream to see you get married in my lifetime,” she said earnestly.

“It’ll happen when it wants to,” I said, hoping that would be enough of an explanation to satisfy her. Her concern for me was genuine and I didn’t want to disappoint her by outrightly denying her.

“It could happen next week if you really want it to,” she said coyly.

I scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now and I have someone in mind. I know you’d like her,” her tone was confident.

“Are you thinking of setting me up?” I let out a small laugh at the ridiculousness of her suggestion.

“Why not?” she countered. “I know you better than anyone else does. I gave birth to you, didn’t I?”

“And who would this hypothetical person be that you’re setting me up with?” I asked, deciding to humor her.

“My friend, Brie, has a beautiful daughter who’s single. I met her the other day at brunch and she’s really pretty. I think the two of you would make a great match,” she announced, seeming proud of her little discovery.

“I can’t just go out on a date with your friend's daughter,” I fought back feebly. “I don’t even think I have the time for it, let alone the will.”

“As your mother, I’m staging an intervention,” she said firmly. It was seldom that she used that tone of voice with me.

I straightened my back, realizing that she was indeed serious about this whole idea, and I couldn’t just talk my way out of it this time. I prepared myself for the worst.

“And what does this intervention entail exactly?” I asked.

“I can arrange for the two of you to meet,” she said. “And then you can get to know each other.”

“Mom,” I protested weakly.

“I’m serious,” she responded. “You can speak to your assistant about freeing up an evening sometime this week. She’s in town and would love to meet you.”

“Fine,” I sighed, giving in. At this point, arguing with my mother wouldn’t lead me anywhere.

Whenever she decided to set her mind to something, she always made sure that she saw it to completion. It was something that I admired about her, although at this current moment it was proving to be an inconvenience.

“I’m so happy that you’ve agreed to this,” her tone brightened up immediately. She even sounded surprised, as if she didn’t know I was going to do exactly as she said.

“More like forced against my will,” I grumbled under my breath.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Nothing,” I said, looking at the clock. “I’m late for work, so I have to go now. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, I love you,” she said. “Make sure you free up a slot for this week.”

“Love you too,” I said, shaking my head as I hung up the phone.

You could be the boss in every single aspect of your life, but no matter how old or successful you were, whenever your mom asked you to do something, you couldn’t say no.

Not wanting to waste any more time thinking about my love life and my mother’s advice about it, I walked back to my bedroom to get changed for the day. There was one consistent thing in my life that I was willing to commit to. And that was work.

It was the only thing that had never let me down.