The Love Of Money - Episode 246
09-08-25 (19:03)
"True," I said. "Okay, I should get back in there and
mingle a little. Maybe I can sway a few of them to
vote for Chandler."
"Luck," Chloe said.
Leaving Chloe in the hall, I entered the break room to
see it inhabited by Roger and Carla. They were chatting.
No... correction, Carla was chatting at Roger while he
stared at his phone. When I arrived and made my way
over to the coffee bar, Carla's attention was
immediately drawn to me.
"Marcus!" she called out, flashing me a beautiful smile
that probably cost tens of thousands of dollars.
Everything about her felt fake, but not in the typical
way. Beautification was relatively affordable to all the
classes, but low-cost work usually meant results that
tended toward the uncanny valley. That wasn't the
case for the ultra-wealthy.
The feeling of artificiality I got from Carla was so subtle
that it was almost undetectable. Her firm D-cup tits
were works of art that- on their own-I might not have
suspected of being fake at a glance. Her smile, on its
own, could have been just a result of good genes. Her
perfect Greek nose, high cheekbones, or lips that were
the right amount of plump could all have been excused
away by hitting the genetic lottery, but all of it
combined... It was too perfect. Not in the way that Tara
seemed perfect. I could tell that Tara had worked to
sculpt an earned physique, but there was still a natural
quality to her. Carla's perfection felt purchased. It
wasn't unpleasant, her unnatural perfection almost
made her seem otherworldly.. angelic even. On top of
that, I would have bet all my money she felt just as
good as she looked.
Unfortunately, her personality shattered the Illusion. Her
attempts at flirting were obvious, and the knowledge
that she was out for money made her overtures even
more grating.
"Hey, Carla," I said, offering her a smile.
Roger looked up at his phone and simply said, "Mr.
Upton."
"Mr. VanCamp," I replied. "It was good seeing you on
Friday. I'm sorry you had to leave so abruptly." The fact
that he left before I could get my answers from Ashlee
still rankled me, and Intrusive thoughts about flinging
my coffee in his face entered my mind. That reminded
me of Bobbi, and I briefly wondered what would
happen if Roger was strapped to a table in the dungeon
room and I gave Bobbi free rein. Or better yet... Bobbi
and Helen. What would the results of that be?
"Yes," he said, looking back at his phone. "My wife was
feeling under the weather."
"Your daughter, too?" I asked.
He glanced back up at me, and I could plainly see his
annoyance. "Yes"
I couldn't help myself... Roger got under my skin.
Besides, he didn't get a vote in the meeting, so fuck
him. "It's been cloudy lately. Maybe they need another
shot of vitamin D. I think I've got some at the house if
they need to borrow it." It was a bad joke, but I'm not
particularly gifted in that way.
It did the trick, though. I could see his irritation flare to
actual anger.
He wasn't the only one who got the joke. Carla, who
had just taken a sip of her cold, frothy coffee, snorted
and had to use a napkin to wipe away the foam that
covered her nose and mouth. She continued to giggle
silently into her napkin.
"How's Barbara Nanford?" Roger asked.
"She's fine," I said, trying not to let him know that his
question stung a little. It was a sensitive subject...
especially after Emily.
I guess I succeeded because he stood up and said,
"Excuse me... I need to make a call." I certainly hoped I
hadn't pushed him to the point where' he would act on
one of his threats from the other night. I really needed
to talk to Chloe and Henry Psalter- about what it would
take to have a man killed.
"What a tool," Carla whispered about five seconds after
Roger left as she patted the seat beside her. Suddenly,
feeling a sense of camaraderie in our shared dislike for
Roger VanCamp, I took her Invitation and set my mug
on the table.
"Fucking tell me about it," I said.
"So," she asked, folding her hands under her chin and
looking at me intently, "Are you?"
"Am I what?" asked.
"Banging his wife? That's what I heard. Is it true?"
Jesus... people in high society loved to talk. "Who did
you hear that from?"
Her eyes shining with mirth, Carla flicked a perfectly
manicured finger at me. "That's a yes."
"No it's not!" said, having a hard time keeping a smile
off my face.
"I've made that face before, buster. I know what it
means."
"Know what means?" A masculine voice said. We
looked at the entrance to see the swarthy man walk in.
At that moment, my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out.
Erin had messaged to let me know that we had ten
minutes left. I gave her a thumbs-up and set the device
on the table,
"Oh, nothing." Carla said, her flirtatious tone dropping to
something that sounded almost bored. "How are you,
Rajesh?"
"Doing well, Carla. Thank you for asking." He sat down
in the spot Roger vacated and held out his hand.
"Rajesh Desai."
I immediately recognized the name from Chandler's
lessons. Desal came from a wealthy Pakistani family
that had made a name and fortune in the
telecommunications industry in Southeast Asia. I
Immediately decided I hated this guy. His simple
introduction felt smug, and as I shook his hand, I could
feel him squeeze mine a tad too hard as if he had
something to prove-Grade A asshole.
"Marcus Upton," I said, taking his hand.
He started eating and asked, "How are you enjoying
the life of the one percent, Mr. Upton?"
My mind immediately flooded with memories of all the
things I'd done since becoming wealthy-being courted
by YPV, seduced by one of the partner's wives, buying
a private jet, buying most of an entire building,
purchasing my old company and firing my old boss...
getting revenge on Bobbi, blowing money in Vegas
with a bevy of hot women by my side...
"It's been pretty cool," I replied lamely.
Rajesh looked up at me, unimpressed with my answer.
"Well, when you get bored, we should talk. I'm sure we
can find something interesting to do."
"Thanks," I said, "But I can't imagine I'll get bored." Don't forget to leave a Comment 
