Generalizing can be a dangerous act, but I’ve found that more often than not, the old adage of “where there’s smoke, there’s fire” rings true in real life.

 

Most men love pussy, that’s just a fact.

 

Once I was able to get Itsuki on the phone, I apologized profusely for my tardiness and offered to treat him to a night out on The Strip.

 

“I have no interest in spending any unnecessary time in this city, Mr. Copley”, Itsuki calmly explained. “You have failed to meet our expectations as a business partner and we-- excuse me-- I do not have any desire to waste my time having some money hungry American try to woo me.”

 

Thinking quickly, I try to show him that I’m on his side. “Mr. Okata, you misunderstand. I am not my father, I do not care one bit about getting you to partner with Copley Oil, believe me. Really, I couldn’t care less. I just need someone to be my wingman tonight. I’m going to be doing some barhopping, going through some pretty exclusive clubs, and I would hate to go alone.”

 

I wait impatiently in my car for his reply.

 

Itsuki clears his throat. “As tempting as that sounds, I believe I made it clear that I no longer want to spend any time here. Thank you but I have to decline.”

 

“What is it you’d like to do here, Mr. Okata? Las Vegas is the kind of place where you can do anything, gamble, zipline, drink until you can’t drink anymore. You name it, we’ll do it”, I insist.

 

I hear a frustrated sigh on the other end. “Mr. Copley, it was my understanding that we were on the same level of wealth. When you have a certain amount of wealth, you can do anything you want whenever you want. Quite frankly, you have nothing to offer me.”

 

“I hope that I have made myself clear, Mr. Okata, I’m not trying to convince you to join Copley Oil”, I put the phone down and desperately think for something that would garner his interest. “Alright, here’s the truth. I was invited to an orgy tonight but under the condition that I bring another guy. I don’t have a lot of friends here in Vegas, and I don’t just want to pick up a schlub from the street. Mr. Okata, there’s a lot of pussy to be had tonight and some of that pussy has your name written all over it.”

 

I grasp my phone so tightly I feel as if I’m only moments from cracking the device in half while I wait for Itsuki to take his sweet ass time to reply.

 

“...Where would this uh-- meeting-- be happening”, he asks in a hushed tone.

 

What a sucker.

 

Immediately after the call, I start to orchestrate this orgy. I go through my contacts and send a message to every woman I met at an orgy or confided in me that they were interested in being a part of one. Some of the women I contact reply with unenthusiastic responses, upset that I’m only messaging them for sex. Others are, thankfully, up for an exciting night with many sweaty, naked bodies.

 

A shower and change of clothes later, I text Itsuki, informing him to meet me at a room I’ve rented out for the night at the Elara. I check into the room and wait for the women. Helena, Brandi, Natsumi, Hailey, and Imani. They arrive one after the other and change into some lacey lingerie before splaying out onto the bed.

 

“What are we waiting for”, Brandi asks.

 

“A friend of mine. A very rich friend of mine who shouldn’t be disappointed in any way whatsoever”, I explain as I wait for a message of Itsuki’s arrival.

 

Hailey shoots up. “Hold on, I’m not a prostitute. I thought we were just going to have some fun.”

 

“We’re getting paid for this”, another one of the ladies asks.

 

“No, Brandi. His being rich is important to me. You don’t worry about it”, I mumble.

 

“I asked that, not Brandi.”

 

I look over at the woman and come to the realization that I have no idea who’s Helena, who’s Brandi, and who’s Hailey. The three of them are interchangeable. Blonde, big titted bitches.

 

“Whatever. Let’s all just do everything we can to make him happy”, I say in hopes that no more questions will be asked. I’m given a reprieve from the women’s nonsense until Natsumi clears her throat preceding a question.

 

“Caaan we get paid for this”, she asks.

 

“Sure, fine. We can figure it out later”, I shout.

 

The ladies then start to argue. I try phasing it out but some of it breaks through. I’m no whore. We should be getting paid. What does it matter. What if he’s a super crusty old guy? You don’t have to get paid. I didn’t know there’d be another guy, I don’t want to get gangbanged. Blah, blah, blah, holy shit, can’t they just shut up and get fucked.

 

“I’m out of here”, one of the blondes announces. “I actually have self respect. I’m not going to whore out my body for money.”

 

Brandi, or Hailey, or who-fucking-ever starts changing back into her street clothes and walks out without saying another word. That’s fine. There are still four other women for Itsuki to fuck. And finally, a message from him.

 

I’m downstairs. Come down.

 

“Alright, he’s here. Feel free to start feeling each other up, or uh… whatever, get wet, because he is going to bust down this door dick first. I’ll be right back”, I announce.

 

Downstairs, I meet Itsuki who is waiting outside of a black SUV.

 

“This is a hotel, Mr. Copley”, he states in a monotone voice.

 

“Please, call me Ben. And yes, is that a problem?”

 

“I suppose it was wrong of me to assume, but I was led to believe that we’d be going to a brothel. Or whorehouse. I’m not sure what the proper term for it would be.”

 

I’m a bit baffled by his tone of disappointment. “I’ll ask again, is that a problem?”

 

“Not necessarily. Where did you pick up the prostitutes”, he asks.

 

Still baffled, I explain that I didn’t pick up a single prostitute and instead just gathered a group of women I had in my contacts list.

 

“I see”, he says rubbing his chin. “Then a problem may have arisen. The women-- these friends of yours. They’re American.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Insufficient then. Please take me to a brothel. I want to be with women who will allow me to do anything I want to them”, he explains further. “American women, those who are not prostitutes, they’ll only complain. They’ll whine. Call the police. Fight back.”

 

“Jesus Christ, what are you planning to do with these women”, I ask.

 

“As I said, whatever I want.”

 

He walks around his menacing SUV and steps in through the driver’s side. “So will you take me to a brothel, or is my presence no longer wanted?”

 

Hell goddamn no your presence isn’t wanted anymore. I may not treat women with the utmost respect admittedly, but I sure as hell don’t abuse them. He’s staring at me through the passenger’s window expectantly.

 

“Of course. I’ll take you to the best brothel in town. Or outside of town, that’s where the really good ones are”, I nervously reply, completely unaware of where I would even find a legally run brothel.

 

I hop in Itsuki’s car and am driven away from what could have been a nice night with Imani, Natsumi, and two blondes. I send them a text apologizing for having wasted their time, but since they don’t reply, I get the feeling that they’re having a good time on their own. I’m the one who should be getting an apology from my psychotic chauffeur.

 

Prostitution is a great way to make an honest living in Vegas, but it’s never been the type of scene I was interested in.

 

Sure, some of the more expensive women can be beautiful beyond belief, but there’s no challenge in sleeping with someone you can just pay to fuck you. If I’m going to have sex with someone, it has to be because they crave me. I have more than enough money to afford a night with a prostitute for every night of my life, but I instead go for women who are cock hungry, not money hungry. That, and I’m not a rich psycho who wants to hurt the women I have sex with like some sort of Japanese Patrick Bateman.

 

When I promised myself I’d play ball with Dad’s plan to get me to act more responsibly, driving a sociopath to a brothel wasn’t quite the picture I had in mind. Still, I have to go through with this.

 

I act as Itsuki’s GSP as I direct him to the outskirts of the city to find the only neary brothel I could easily find on Google. It doesn’t look high-end, and it’s not in a particularly well-off part of town but this only seems to pique Itsuki’s interest as I notice a Grinch-like smile forming on his face.

 

Upon arrival, he stepped out of the car but stopped to ask me if I’d be joining him.

 

“No thanks, I’ll just wait out here. I’ll keep the car warm”, I tell him, trying to keep a cool composure.

 

The wait for his return feels neverending. Save from a few lost tourists, I find myself more alone than I’ve ever felt. In more ways than one. I’m sitting in a disgustingly hot car by myself in a desert that is only a few miles from falling under the category of “the middle of nowhere”. But I’m also alone in another sense. One that may have roots in Dad’s lecture from earlier.

 

I’m in an uncomfortable situation that may seem humorous to someone who isn’t in my shoes. If I had someone to text about this situation, I could at least have a distraction from it. Or someone to give me advice. But I don’t have anyone. What I told Itsuki about not having friends wasn’t a lie.

 

I don’t have friends. I have acquaintances from work. I have people I see often. I have employees who like me. A brother who hates me.

 

But not a single person I could talk to. Really talk to.

 

Instead of being upset by thinking about what it’d be like to be poor or less fortunate, I’m left upset thinking about how alone I am in the world. Were it not for my dad and the women I meet, I would have little to no interaction with other people.

 

My dad’s evaluation of me may have been a bit more spot on that I gave him credit for.

 

Where there’s smoke there’s fire, I suppose.