She’s always there, her passion for programming ringing out in my mind. Or the stories she’s told me from her childhood, she and her best friend making a paper-and-pen adventure game when they were little.
I cringe when I think about her accounts of the dates she went on a few months ago, at her friend’s suggestion. But they always ended badly and she never kissed them.
It shouldn’t matter to me, who she kisses, who she’s with.
But it does. It matters more than anything.
The woman is talking to me and I realize, I’d zoned out. My mind a willing prisoner to the girl from the game.
“You’re not listening, are you?” she says, a sour twist to her lips.
“I drifted off,” I tell her, in a calm give-nothing take-nothing tone of voice.
“What’s my name, Maxton?” she asks bluntly.
I resist the urge to curse, to tell her I don’t give a damn. Her family might become investors in my company one day. This is the part of the business I’ve always hated, this mingling, this faking. Life would be easier if I could attend these events with my woman on my arm, advertising to the whole world she’s the only one I want.
Thinking back I remember. Her father made a point of telling me her name when I first arrived here, as though he was trying to set us up.
“Eleanor,” I say.
“Ellie to my friends…” She strokes her hand across the table. “I think we could be friends…”
I lean back, hoping I’m making it clear I’m not interested. Her behavior leaves me nothing but cold. I don’t want what she so clearly does, frantic and pointless sex that will result in nothing.
When I take my woman, it’s going to be for pleasure, yes. I’m going to make every inch of her tingle and she’s going to scream as she tears her fingernails down my back and I bury myself deeper inside her. But there’s going to be a purpose too.
My seed is going to explode inside of her, filling her young body until her womb is swollen with our future.
Eleanor withdraws her hand sharply. “You know, you’re being quite rude right now. I’m only trying to be nice.”
“I don’t mean to be rude,” I tell her evenly. “But at the same time, I’m not interested.”
“Interested in what? I haven’t done anything yet.”
The word yet cuts into my mind. As if she thinks I’d ever feel anything for her. My woman exists in the stars, in a digital world I helped create, all our shared memories burned into my mind.
Sure, they were made online, but I’m hungrily looking forward to the day when we can make real memories together.
If she’ll agree to meet with me.
“Well?” Eleanor asks, a little huffy now.
I shrug. “Well, what?”
“I called you rude. Don’t you have any thoughts about that?”
“Listen, Eleanor—”
“Ellie.”
“I’m sure you’re a nice girl. I’m sure you’re funny and interesting and…”
I trail off, wondering if she can tell I’m lying. I have nothing against her. She just simply isn’t my woman.
“But?” she prompts.
“But I’m not interested.”
I don’t remind her this is the second time I’m telling her this. I feel mentally drained, and yet my body is primed and a carnal yearning burns in my chest. It’s like my body thinks I’m a man from the distant past, with an empty belly and stone-hard muscles, my only purpose to track my mate down and drag her back to my cave.
I push the thought away, ridiculous as so many of mine are lately.
Eleanor winces as if I’ve physically pained her. “Do you know how many men would kill to be in your position?”
“If that’s the case then I suggest you go and find one of them.” I stand since it’s clear she’s not going to leave me alone. “Enjoy the party.”
Wandering over to the other side of the room, I walk down the hallway and into the bathroom. It gives me a couple of minutes to compose myself before I go out there and start mingling.
That’ll be the name of the game now, making sure I’m always talking with potential investors so she – or somebody like her – doesn’t have a chance to corner me.
Otherwise, I’m worried I might start bellowing like a lunatic, leaping onto the table and hammering my fists against my chest like an uncaged beast.
“The only woman I want is Genevieve,” I’d roar, as they all looked at me like I’m insane. And they wouldn’t be wrong. “She’s all I need. I’m going to find her and make her see how beautiful she is. I’m going to start a family with her.”
Shaking my head, I use the urinal and then wash my hands, returning to the party. I spend the next thirty minutes talking with the guests, putting on my public persona, pretending my thoughts aren’t a constant battlefield over her, my woman, the only person I care about.