JOSHUA
Note to my future protégé: It was fate. That is all I have to say. Fate was smiling on me yet again. Joshua Hewitt was a name the Universe knew and loved and it proved to me a hundred times a day.
There was a time when I might have wondered when my good fortune was going to run out. But everyday fate brought me into situations that were for my benefit. There was no doubt in my mind that my luck was never going to change.
See, because I am grateful. I am grateful. When you have luck like mine you have to have to be grateful and nurture it.
Like I tried to tell Molly Farnsworth last week when I broke up with her. She had become very lucky being around me. She’d had her face in the newspaper and on the tabloids. Modeling offers were coming in because girls like Molly always want to be models.
Don’t get me wrong. She was beautiful with long black hair and high cheekbones that cameras love. Her body was smooth and flat and easily manipulated. The cameras loved that, too. It was no secret when we first met that she had dreams of being on the cover of any trashy female magazine that boasted slimming diets and ways to please your man in bed.
But Molly started to assume that the luck I threw her way was really her own. She didn’t realize it was just the residual effect of being around me. See, that doesn’t work. It’s like stealing, really. If I let her get away with stealing my gifts from the Universe, well, the Universe would stop sending them to me. I couldn’t have that.
I had to send her packing.
That was an ugly scene right out of some chick-flick. I tried to be decent about it but my gut told me that Molly was going to show her true colors when that luck was taken away from her and boy did she.
This is another note to my future protégé: Handle women gently until they show they don’t deserve it.
We had met while I was handling some business in Montreal, Canada. My jet had to be refueled and as I was waiting as fog had rolled in. See, an average guy would have been cursing and angry that the fog would delay him from what he wanted to do. I knew that the Universe was telling me I needed to stay in Montreal for a little while longer.
It was like that woman who showed you the world when you were first becoming a man. She didn’t just flop it all out there in front of you. You got a little peek first. She would give you a view of some lace down her top or a glimpse at her thick thigh from the slit in her skirt. She made you curious. She made you want to see more.
So, when I got back into the main part of town, the sun was starting to go down and I found myself a quiet little place. Not much different from Liona’s here minus the alcohol. I was hungry. Most dives off the beaten track had the best food. And I knew if I went to the trendy, star-studded places then someone would recognize me, the press would show up and the Universe wouldn’t be able to give me anything with all that human pollution around.
No, there had to be a little quiet place around and that was at The Dixie Kitchen.
Molly was working as a waitress.
Now, a word of caution to my future protégé: Don’t judge a girl by where she works. Everyone has to start somewhere. I have found that some women who have relaxing jobs like a masseuse or a librarian are as high strung and aggressive as a cornered poodle. Other women in high speed jobs like nursing or the stock market are terrified of their own shadow if you leave them alone for a second.
Molly was obviously not planning on being a waitress forever. But she did what she had to get what she thought she needed and for a short while it paid off.
Bringing me my steak and eggs with a smile and wink of those long black lashes it didn’t take long for me to see she was what the Universe wanted me to have.
She told me everything about herself within twenty minutes of conversation while I shoveled food in my mouth and listened. Listening is a talent most people don’t possess. I do. Another gift I have chosen to use wisely.
By listening I learned Molly had not finished college, that she shared an apartment with a guy she was “just friends” with, and that she wanted to be a model more than anything but head shots and clothes cost money. So, she was diligently working as a waitress for the tips. Of course, a girl who looked like her begs to be asked the question why not stripping.
Her answer was quite telling. She said there were no respectable strip clubs in the area.
I lingered as long as the fog did and when it finally lifted Molly had packed a bag and was heading back to the States with me. Don’t frown on spontaneity. It can lead to very prosperous investments.
Due to the fact that I had headed off to another country without telling anyone, when I arrived back the press was having a field day speculating what I was doing. We were greeted by flashing cameras and obnoxious reporters for hack magazines asking where I had been. Was this woman the reason I had skipped town without telling anyone. As usual, I said nothing and whisked Molly to my limo and we drove off.
She stayed at my penthouse for a couple of months before her insanity began to show. And then the violence and the threats started.
See, I had no choice but to let her go. She had started to think that the press wanted to talk to her, that the modeling agencies really wanted her, that she had somehow earned all of this and I was to step aside. She was wasting the runoff of my good fortune and scratching and clawing for more when she should have been thankful for what she was getting.
So, I broke it off quickly. She didn’t see it coming. But I can’t help but think she learned a valuable lesson. I don’t think she’ll be ungrateful again.
And now, look. I am a free man just as this beautiful blonde walks into Liona’s Tavern at the same time on the same day I decided to be here, too. My luck was in…again.
The woman was carrying a box. She had been fired, obviously. Judging by the looks of her I could only assume she had a female boss, because any man would have fought tooth-and-nail to keep her on board regardless of if she could do her job or not. Nope, this girl got fired for what she was born with.
Without staring I watched her climb up on the barstool and order a beer. That made me like her immediately. She just ordered a beer. Well drinks were too expensive even in a dive like this one for a girl out of work. But a beer was okay.
She didn’t appear to have a beer gut unless all the alcohol went to her ass that was round and high up there.