Painless Love Chapter 3

I don’t want to wake up. I know that I mustn’t. Oh yes—I was the heck tired yesterday doing an interview with a top most celebrity and today there would be an opulent and grand Marie de Pierre Gala going on at Riesman Hotel here in Las Vegas. Marie de Pierre is a celebrated and well-known star all over America with a rumored whooping net worth of breathtakingly $600 million. Well, you might be guessing how she made all that huge amount in her whatever efforts and labors. She just happens to be a 31 year old woman who is into designing and furnishing people’s living rooms and most importantly their kitchens, and her own self-incorporated company, The Marie de Pierre Furnishers, are just equally exactly into the same furnishing and making up people’s homes and their kitchenettes thing.

“We are going to see Marie de Pierre this evening?” Courtney asks me as we eat and polish up our breakfast in our enormous and large living room.

“Well, who else do you want to see yourself tonight? Gavin—right? Come on, girl. We are going to enjoy ourselves at this gala, all you solely have to do is follow me and let us enjoy and please ourselves as we feel like. I hear that it is absolutely and definitely going to be super fantastic and brilliant awesome. What do you think about it?”

“Since you have insisted so much on it, I am not going to say ‘no’ at all.” Hmmnnnn! I am wondering and thinking quietly to myself: Should I tell her about the cutely gentleman that handed me a lift yesterday, or must I just keep quiet and unspeaking about it. I can’t really and actually tell. No, don’t let her know about it for now. An appropriate time will be coming for you to let her know as concerns it. Of course—that is my beautiful and plain damn bothersome sneaky snoopy subconscious, Mirth. She is always listening and paying due attention to whatever it is that I am saying up there in my private head.

I am now at work. Today is Thursday, 9 April 2020. Oh my goodness. I feel like I am so dead beat and exhausted to the extreme point and extent that I cannot do any little bit of thing without catching myself yawning and yowling out helplessly. But then again I have to keep myself up on my toes and not be downright helpless. This is what life requires and demands of me, not to be lazy and seated perfectly still doing no any form of work.

“I have got your latest research done and handed over to you. Did it reach your desk?” I ask Logan Hamilton, my tall, sturdy-built like, good-looking boss. Hmmnnnn! Most men his age? You find them more than standard average overweight with bent and almost tumbling-off swellings and puffing-outs of their bellies to the extent that even their walk and activity itself is not all that healthy and inspiring. How does he do it? He is forty-four, and yet he is so strong and powerful and robust. If it were not for his graying hair, I swear that he would blamelessly and cleanly look to be in his late twenties.

“Oh yes I got it, Tori. It came to my attention and review as a matter of fact. I wanted to say I appreciate your sincerest and tender most hard work on it. I didn’t trust that you could clear it up for me.” This, he says with a relatively big and heartily kind of inspirational smile. Wow. He is quite terribly handsome even if he is getting old. He reminds me of Charles Berlusconi and…….Rhys Ty Jonas! Do they know each other?

It is freaking lunch time now. I hate lunch. I wish I could work without almost any sort of break. Why exactly do I say this? Because look, by the hour it comes that I have to just sit still and do almost nothing other than chewing and dozing about, I find that once the two-hour rest time is over and done with, I stir up back to my perfect senses and realism only to realize that I should rest more and slouch and loll down on my rolling chair until it is yet time again to knock off from work. I get all lazy and dozing about when it comes to lunch duration, and getting myself out of this state after lunch is finished with is the worst of torture and punishment than hell itself. Certainly!

There is this latest gossip making rounds and rounds today at the office. And guess who it is aiming the shameless dart at? My boss himself—Logan Hamilton.! Oh yeah! I have no time to listen and entertain gossip. But it is not every moment and every occasion that it finds us too strong and impenetrable to resist it. At times we are just all too weak and remediless and invulnerable to almost any sort of thing out there.

Darcy Winooski is so big and puffed up she hardly breathes when she seats and sinks herself down into her chair. Even her voice itself—it is always moderately tired and pooped-up to speak out any louder and inaudibly. But don’t underestimate or even undervalue her for solely that! She can speak GREAT thing, tell GREAT stories about people you live and stay with right next door. I find her in the cafeteria up on the sixteenth floor with six other women workers assembled about in plastic-made and blue-colored chairs. They are all stooped and inclined down towards her, obviously meaning that what she is preaching and proclaiming to them is quietly very interesting than the latest title on BREAKING NEWS (the big giant TV is in the very same cafeteria where we all are inside), telling how a leading wife of a famous politician, 38 years of age, has recently been involved in a sex scandal with a 15 year old boy—her very own stepson as a matter of fact!

I take a seat down on an empty chair sited among the silenty eavesdropping grouping and then flash everyone present here a warm and greeting smile. Darcy is busy chirping out lowly but piercingly sharp to some slight degree, “I saw them with my own two eyes. He is having an affair with that new assistant for sure. Every guy working around here has at least confessed up to having something in his heart or pants for her, and to my own horrible shock, I also overheard the Big Man himself ‘fessing up to his friend that he would like to fuck and spank up the poor girl in his own bedroom once his wife is off to visit her parents with their growing up kids.”

Shit! Just what the hell is exactly going on here, huh?

“I am a little bit left behind. Would anyone of you here mind to pull me ahead to the same pace and track that you are all moving at?” I ask fearlessly and boldly calm after taking a sip of my canned coke.

Henrietta is the one who affords to look me straight into the eyes. “It turns out that your big boss, Mr. Hamilton, is having an affair with the newest assistant around here. Darcy herself here saw them make out in the toilet—or is it not so, Darcy?”

She merely frowns and then rolls her eyes furiously. “Just think about that, girl. Huh!”

Holy hell! Logan…….with that beautiful ebony-haired girl? I have talked to her before, and even spent a little bit of time with her. She was kind, polite, and likeable even……and to now think that she is whoring about with my boss himself?