Days have passed since I walked away from the ONE experience I haven’t had and probably never will have again. To have the heart of a virgin, indeed, the unjaded heart, the flawless diamond of a woman who’s truly mad for you. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that before. Sure, I’ve had women throw themselves at me. For money, for sex, or for just a moment of fame, a brush with celebrity.

But as I watched Maya slowly disappear from my life, I realized that no one has ever actually seen the “good” in me. Not that there is anything good inside of me. I never claimed there to be. But Maya saw something, a mirage, an optical illusion. Namely that I have a heart, I have a brain…I’m not just am empty corporate symbol of wealth and sex appeal.

She was so idealistic, so pure! I didn’t even believe her when she said it.

Now, all I know is, all I feel is, I need to recreate this feeling. This strange dynamic. This spiritual discussion of my amorality and what redemption there is left in my soul. I know I can never regain Maya’s trust. But maybe I can learn something about myself by following this strange feeling.

I ponder these deep thoughts while glancing at the “lineup” of escorts arranged for me. Nothing new, of course, though I usually opt for the cheapskate option—just fuck groupies for free. Escorts are pricey and they always have a little bit of an attitude. Like they’re not grateful. Like they don’t need to stay a minute longer than what I’ve paid for.

I should admire that, since I do so much enjoy Maya’s feisty personality. But for some reason, none of this feels genuine. It’s all artifice, it’s all fake.

Women with perfect bodies, each one staring at me, smiling and smirking. Knowing exactly what I want. To empty my soulless balls into their soulless snatches. Meaningless sex. They know I don’t want the sex to matter. It’s just a release. It’s barely a connection. I’m an animal looking for feeding.

I suddenly feel weak at the knee and a little winded in the heart. None of these girls are right. None of them are virginal, that’s for damn sure. I can tell just by the way they compose themselves. No one’s shy, no one’s looking at me longingly.

“I changed my mind,” I say to my assistant, avoiding eye contact with all the pretty rejects. “Arrange for a new lineup. No escorts. I want younger women…you know, groupies who want to hang around me. Get lucky. That sort of thing.”

I want, above all, to be adored! Maybe that’s what I miss about Maya. She adored me at first. She thought I actually was the Hero from my company’s commercials. She thought I had a soul worth saving. Now if only I could I find someone who could recreate that portrait of compassion…

I look at the group of young “apprentices” up and down, all too aware that they want me. They’re groupies…young girls who want to be sugar babies. They want to be spoiled, toyed with and paid handsomely…if not in money then in gifts. Lavish vacations. Most of them might even let me cum inside of them for free…what better career investment then getting preggers by a billionaire?

But once again…even though their dainty little eyes are all glued on me…I still smell the scent of pity. They pity me. They know I’m just a decadent, debauched fool running from something.

Finally, after spending several awkward and silent moments looking each one up and down, I narrow down my selection.

A brunette, almost virginal looking. There’s a certain sweetness in her eyes, the unmistakable look of discomfort. None of this is familiar to her. She’s afraid of me…she’s hesitant to go and experience life. She dreads growing up, abandoning her youth and perfection.

She’s wearing all white, a racer back long dress with long curly locks. Something very…unique about her. Yes, she’s the one.

“You…at the end, tell me your name, please.”

“Melanie.”

“Good. Meet me in my office. The rest of you head downstairs for free drinks and gifts.”

The girls are cheerful, good sports. They knew the odds of me picking a single one of them were slim. Billionaires have very particular tastes, after all. No, we don’t have types. We have obsessions. We become obsessed with something and spend absurd amounts of money trying to recreate that obsession. Sometimes these obsessions last for years. I always thought it was just a rich eccentric old man’s thing…but now it appears I am feeling it too.

We have fucking therapy sessions, not types. That’s what we have.

I enter my private office, having just freshened up, making sure my cock was rock hard and ready to go. I could feel it on my fingertips. The chase. The passion, the danger. The seduction of innocence. Yes…

I look at the girl, at Melanie, and wonder just how much she fears me. What would it take to make her feel less afraid, to feel compassion for me…to even learn to love me?

I begin to flinch as I notice Melanie tightening her smile.

“What’s wrong?” I say curiously.

“What?”

“Something’s wrong. Your mood changed. What is it? Do you regret coming here?”

“No, sir. I just…”

“What?”

“I want to show you my pussy.” She squints her eyes and licks her lips.

“What? Where did that come from?”

“I…I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“What I wanted? I just wanted to be with you. I wanted you to be you. The real you.”

“Yeah but…I figured you wanted someone sexy, you know.”

My smile lights up. The excitement builds deep in my gut. “I don’t want you to pretend. I just want you to be comfortable.”

“Okay…” she says with a goofy grin. “I think you’re going to like what I look like down there.”

“Oh? Well that’s very confident, isn’t it?”

“Like for real,” she says with a prideful little giggle. “I spent thousands so it better look legit.”

“Come again?”

“Oh, I will!”

“No, I mean…you spent thousands on what?”

“Well, you know…hymen-restoring surgery. I got my cherry rebuilt. Just for a rich, strong man like you. So you could tear it all over again.”

My heart sinks. How grotesque…and yet it’s exactly what I deserve, isn’t it? Exactly what I asked for. For the simulation of a virginal experience. Something I surely am not fit to have authentically. Not after being the scum of the earth for so long.

“Look kid…just take your check and go.”

“I’m not a hooker!” she says snidely, but not really as feisty as Maya would say it.

“I know. It’s just…you’re too good for me, kid.”

“Ohhh…okay…” she says cluelessly, probably thinking I’m some guilt-ridden eccentric fool with a barely-functioning dick. But the truth is far more shameful. She’s exactly what I deserve. Exactly what I ordered. And realizing what I am, the quintessence of my perverse character, has made me sick to my stomach.

We are roaches, we are sycophantic fakers and scam artists. We don’t deserve the blood of the innocent.

“Soooo,” David says, pouring me coffee as always to wake me up from a terrible desk-night-sleep. “You broke another poor girl’s heart, buddy boy. That’s two in just under two weeks. You have a talent at being a schmuck.”

“What? Why?”

“Well from what I hear, the girl named Melanie that you hand-selected for her illusion of purity stormed out of our castle, crying about how she wasted all her savings on something called ‘Hymenorrhaphy’. And after all that brilliant artificial hymen artistry, you STILL rejected her. That’s got to be hard on a poor little escort who’s just trying to learn the ropes.”

“Fuck me,” I growl in disapproval. “I just can’t get through a day without pissing someone off.”

“Oh, don’t worry about Melanie. She did seem to cheer up again after we gave her a gift basket of goodies to take home. And a nice check to compensate for all that precious cherry-restoring surgery. You know what they say…a hymen is a terrible thing to waste!”

“Ugh. This is the part where I’m supposed to score with two Brazilian models and feel better about myself, David. So why do I feel like shit?”

“Kid, you just screwed yourself in the ass and didn’t like how it felt. You want a nice innocent girl but you don’t like the way they’re made. With love, with attention, with sacrifice and trust. None of which are for sale, at least not for escort prices. You find fake virgins disgusting for their artifice and real virgins like Maya find you disgusting for your insincerity. It’s a vicious cycle of pussy-cock hatred!”

David laughs that weird parrot noise that he always seems to do, reinforcing my humiliation.

“The real question is, David, how any virgin could stand me in the first place? I’m incapable of love or basic human decency. It’s almost like, Maya was the first person to actually look at me and see nothing but the smile on my face. She really saw my potential. Not the money, not the greed…just the smile I gave her.”

“True! And then you screwed it up, kid.”

“She really is a girl you don’t meet every day, isn’t she?”

“Listen, you’re not going to get very far trying to recapture a moment you lost. Maybe what you should do is give the person you like another chance.”

“But she hates me, David. She told me so.”

“Then use that genius head of yours to think of a Plan B!” David says with a sarcastic smile on his face. “Adopt, adapt and improve! Prove yourself an evolutionary wonder and grow some goddamned creativity, Zander!”

“How much does that cost?” I reply, smirking at David…but not sure if I’m joking at this point.

I sent Maya a free meal gift certificate to Palmetto, my favorite place to dine when I want to splurge and impress someone with my ridiculously high tips. This particular gift certificate accommodated up to four people, so I assumed Maya might bring the three people closest to her—namely her parents and her current boyfriend, that dashing and debonair fellow who swooped in and stole Maya from me before I even knew she was an option.

No matter, I’ve been feeling like a good sport. This dinner was not about making a statement or proving a point. It was a gesture of good will. Just a foolish and immoral man’s way of breaking the ice. And yes, Maya, I promise my filthy and lecherous hands did not grope your five-star Italian meal.

I’ve decided to watch Maya quietly from a distance, hoping to see her new boyfriend from afar and to get a good idea of the man I’m competing against. To my surprise, as I see her take a seat, along with her parents, I see no fourth chair. She isn’t on a date. She’s just here…unspoken for. Unattached and perhaps even longing for a Valentine’s Day kiss. This could be my moment.

She looks ravishing. Like a touch from the golden age of movies. A beaded V-neck mesh dress arrayed in dark blue. She’s the type of girl that saves all her money just to buy a nice new dress and feel good about herself. And good for her…that’s something I would do myself I actually had to work for my money. Her parents are dressed…well, in church clothes, naturally.

She has to be halfway expecting me to show up, doesn’t she? She could have just torn up the gift certificate if she really despised my existence. Or maybe she just wanted to show her parents a good time and treat them to a meal they probably could never afford.

I hesitate…I want to go out there now and say hello. But I bite my tongue. What should I say? Dammit, don’t hesitate. Just be opposite of everything she expects. Be the opposite of the brash, arrogant dickhead everybody knows I am. And whatever happens, don’t fucking hesitate!

I smile calmly as I walk out to meet the DeBank family. “I hope you find everything to your liking, Mister and Missus DeBank. And Maya.”

Her parents take attention and look on in surprise. Maya, meanwhile, sends a stark face to me…not quite frowning, but not quite smiling. But at least her eyes are meeting mine and fully attentive.

“You’re Troy! Aren’t you? Mister Troy?” her father says.

“Yes, sir. I’m sure you remember me. Maya denounced me on television. Good times.”

“Well…” he says apologetically, but still smiling in pride. “She’s a loose cannon. But sometimes women tell us the things we men refuse to hear.”

“I hear that!” I say, helping myself to the fourth seat. “Have you all looked at the menus yet? I recommend the eggplant rollatini. It’s the best in the entire country, I swear to God. And I’ve been to Italy.”

“No, we’re still looking,” her father says. “Are you sure we’re okay to pay for this? The gift card won’t bounce, will it?”

“No, sir,” I say with a smile. “This one’s on the house. Consider it a gesture of goodwill, for offending Maya so terribly the first time we met.”

Maya smirks back at me. And the second time and third time, her eyes seem to tell me.

“That’s sweet of you. Maya’s very grateful,” the mother says. “She just doesn’t express gratitude very well.”

“Mother!” Maya scolds her. “You don’t have to insult me!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your names,” I say, feigning business man speak, the same type of polite chitchat I might spat out during one of those god awful commercials.

“Mark,” the dad says.

“Merva,” the mom says.

“Maya,” Maya says with a smarmy headshake. As if she’s appalled by my nice behavior. Well, at least she’s not throwing a drink in my face…yet.

I do feel natural urges to come-back. I start thinking of mean and wild things to do just to scandalize this perfect dinner scenario. I could embarrass Maya in front of her parents. Make everyone cringe. Make her parents feel awkward by talking about orgies I’ve had…

God, what’s wrong with me? Do I really hate civility that much that I have to destroy every good thing I come in contact with?

I bite my tongue and glance at Maya, before returning to the faces of her parents.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” I say warmly, glancing at Maya, who is still eying me like a cat eyes a troublemaking mouse. She’s ready to pounce, for sure. “I know there’s probably been some hostility lately…but I assure you, all that’s behind us.”

“Well, I hope so!” Merva says.

“Mother!” Maya says, her face blushing.

“I don’t mean any offense, Mister Troy. You’re much too, uh…old for her.”

I lose my smile. The fire burns in my chest. Old? OLD?! I’m in my thirties! How about I plop your pudgy ass over on this table and pound your—!

No, no, no, be nice. Do the opposite…don’t be an asshole. Forgive. Let it go.

“Well…” I laugh. “She certainly deserves a boy her own age, we agree on that.”

“But what I’m thinking,” Merva continues, “is that Maya is so smart…I think you should hire her for a job! Maya is an excellent writer, reporter and interviewer. She could really help your company.”

“Mother, that’s even more embarrassing. I can apply for my own jobs, thank you very much.”

“Uh, yes, I agree, obviously,” I say with a wince.

“Agree with what?” Mark says.

“Uh…you know,” I reply, taking a gulp. “I agree that Maya would not be well suited for my company.”

Maya glares at me. Now both of her parents join in on the fun and stare me down.

Damn…that instinct was definitely not the opposite. That was too natural of me to say.

“Umm…” I correct myself, “what I meant to say was, she would be much more suited to news or publishing. I work in marketing, consulting, advertising…it’s boring work.”

Her parents nod and Maya crinkles her lip in response to my save.

“Oh, I see. Yeah, Maya always wanted to be a photo journalist. Like Barbara Walters.”

“Oh, she’ll be better than Barbara Walters!” I say with a congenial laugh. Barbara Walters’ raggedy, disgusting ass probably has mice living in it, that lisping bitch! Jesus, don’t say that out loud! This is going well, don’t jinx it! Just do what Maya would want me to do. Pretend like I’m the guy on camera and not a fucking corporate soulless ghoul!

“You’re right!” Mark says as he taps his daughter’s hand. “She could do anything she sets her mind to. The sky is the limit.”

“Oh, you know, on the subject,” I say, helping myself to a breadstick, “Maya and I were talking about doing a project together.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…and I APOLOGIZE that I never got back to you. I was a jerk for, uh…making you wait so long.”

She raises her brow at me.

“But I really think we should ride this momentum now that it’s here. So I wanted to officially invite you to start doing one-shot interviews for our cable channel TRCK. Test demographics really think Maya would make an engaging TV personality. I want to help her move up in the world. NOT working for me, mind you, just a collaborate project.”

Maya looks perturbed, even though parents are astonished.

“That’s really nice,” Maya says, grabbing a pen and tablet from her purse. “But I don’t think I have time for that right now. You know, so many things going on at work. Busy season and all.”

“Well, yes, but…”

Maya discreetly passes me a note, making damn sure I get her signal to read it.

I glance at the tablet.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? I DON’T NEED YOUR CHARITY. I DON’T WANT A BRIBE FROM YOU!!!!

“Oh, Maya,” I laugh, waving the note around.

Maya gets nervous and flinches.

“Don’t be silly. She just sent me a note saying I don’t need to do this. You are always so down on yourself, girl!” I smile happily. “Have confidence. I wouldn’t make the offer if I didn’t believe you have talent.”

“You really think your people will accept Maya after she insulted you all over the Internet and news stations everywhere?” her dad says.

“Of course. They well know I voluntarily choose to work with many of my former enemies. Sometimes they’re the people you can trust the MOST. They tell you sh…er, STUFF, that you don’t want to admit to yourself.”

“Good point!” Merva says.

“That’s some really good news,” Maya says, looking as thrilled as a Stepford Wife. She’s acting as muted and fake as I am right now. Probably in boiling rage that I’m doing the unthinkable and chatting with her parents. “But I don’t think I can accept. My job at the tax office really counts on me…”

“We’ll double your salary. I mean…not a salary, per se, but we’ll pay you double.”

“I don’t want to leave,” she says with a stern look. “I want to keep my job.”

“Then we’ll work around your office hours. No big deal.”

Maya suddenly stands up from the table…her frown quickly turns into a smile. “Wow, lucky me! Say, will you fine people excuse me just a minute?”

“Sure!”

“Come here, Troy,” she mutters in wrath. Ready to scold me! Ready to tear me a new asshole, feels like! “Let me talk to you in private. About that wonderful job offer!”

“Well, I really hate paperwork when we’re trying to enjoy dinner…”

“NOW!”

Maya can’t even wait till we’re out of view of her folks…she starts poking my back and shoulders with those torpedo-strength little fingers of hers…

“OW!”

Maya pushes me against the next wall over, hiding us both from her parent’s view.

I grin and throw my hands up in surrender. “If you’re going to rape me, I do not consent.”

“You’re not funny,” Maya growls. “Look, I came here in a gesture of goodwill. You said in your letter no funny business!”

“I meant it. No funny business, I haven’t been funny all night. I didn’t even tell any dick jokes. That’s how serious I am.”

“And what the fuck is with the fake job? Is this your idea of a prank?”

“Not a prank. A legitimate offer.”

“Oh, so it’s a bribe? I am NOT accepting any job offer with you, Zander!”

“Most applicants just call in to decline an offer, they don’t shove the executive against the wall and yell at him and stuff.”

“Ughhh…” Maya huffs. She shakes her head at me and puffs her cheek, thinking I sure deserve a good smacking.

“Come on. I haven’t embarrassed you once. I’ve been nothing but kind to you and your parents. Why won’t you forgive me?”

“I do forgive you.”

“Then why not give me another chance?”

Maya shuts up and stews over the indecent proposal…

“Who are we kidding?” I say, turning the camera charm on. “We both feel an attraction. We both…”

“We talked about this,” Maya grumbles. “We are not at all alike. We want two different things…”

“No, we don’t,” I say boldly. “I just want to be your Valentine’s Day boyfriend.”

Maya suddenly flinches and loses some of her venom. My longing eyes make contact with hers, the rush of emotion and tingling of skin. At last she knows what I feel and she feels exactly what I want her to feel. This isn’t about love. This is just about sex. Sex that she wants. Something special…a night she’ll never forget. And I want to give that to her so badly…

“You told me your terms,” I say, backing off a little bit in the power of my voice. I don’t want to scare her, just want to let her know this is for real. “I accept them. It’s just one day and night, the perfect date. The dream you had, I can give that to you.”

“No, Zander,” she says softly. “You ruined that already.”

“No, I didn’t. You want the Zander you thought existed, the charming nice guy, the charity guy, the superhero of the city? I can be him!”

“I don’t want an act,” she says, folding her arms.

“Maya, this isn’t an act. This is just two sides of my personality. The charming guy in front of the cameras IS me. But it’s not the me that goes to bed, it’s not the me that parties, drinks, gambles, and swears. We all have a dual nature. Maybe, you know…”

“What?”

“Maybe you have a dual nature, too. Maybe I can help you find your ‘other side’. Unleash your wild side.”

Maya’s nervous blinking gives her away. She’s thinking about it. We’re finally on the same page, talking about the same things. We want the same thing…and for once, I can sense it in the air. I can feel her throbbing, feel her curiosity building to frenetic energy…the desire to let go and give the body what it wants…

“That’s, uh…nice of you, Zander. But I don’t think I want that fantasy anymore.”

“Kiss me,” I say with determination. “Then we’ll both know for sure.”

“No!” Maya says, holding our eye contact strong. “Because your plan is to make me feel something. I probably would feel something, Zander, but that doesn’t mean I want something to happen. Got it?”

My head turns to its side and I suspire in exhaustion. Just trying to convince this girl to have sex with me is leaving me panting and out of breath. She is truly the unattainable virgin that cannot be bought! God damn it, how much?!

“Yes, but…”

“You slept with my best friend!”

“Oh, gimme a break, Maya. She was not your best friend. She was some girl who worked in the same office as you did. Big deal.”

“Yeah, jerk-face! She was not a great friend, but I don’t HAVE the luxury of a lot of really cool friends, okay? I live a fairly isolated life, okay? But I really liked her and you just put this huge rift between us, ruining our potential friendship. That was a shitty thing to do.”

“I’m sorry…”

“I’m not like YOU, Zander, I don’t have thousands of people just chasing me all over the world, wanting to interview me, do commercials with me, fuck me silly, give me a free car just for showing up to a goddamned charity ball! I’m not like fucking YOU, okay? The two of us are not at all alike!”

“But that’s what makes us so compatible.”

“I don’t accept your job offer. And no, I will not sleep with you for Valentine’s Day. I have a boyfriend.”

“That same guy? That loser you didn’t even bring to the dinner date…”

“Yeah and Billy’s not a loser, asshole. He’s the guy I’m with now.”

“I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

“He doesn’t know he’s my boyfriend yet,” I say, gritting my teeth. “But he’s going to know soon enough. I’ll make it really fucking clear, if you get what I’m saying.”

“I’m not jealous.”

I watch Maya walk away and my heart pounds. My face goes white and I chase after her…for just a moment.

“I’M NOT JEALOUS!” I say louder, but then force myself to smile as we both walk back to the table with her parents.

Now both Maya and I are sitting down, fake-grinning at each other like we’re fucking clowns. So much to say, so much to yell at each other…and yet here we are, ready to swallow it all and eat.

“Hmmm do I want chicken or do I want pork?” Mark says, still looking at the menu. “What do you think?” he asks his wife.

“Chicken. Pork always makes you feel bloated.”

Jesus. This is going to be a long fucking night, isn’t it? I suddenly lost my appetite.

“Well then…” I say, getting up from the table. “I guess I’ll leave you lovely folks to your dinner.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet,” Maya says, sending me rabid eyes, blinking in heavy sarcasm. “You’re such a nice guy, Zander.”

“Have fun. Have fun with your boyfriend,” I sing back merrily.

“Oh I will. Lots of fun. Thanks, Zander.”

“You’re welcome.” Bitch. Cock-tease. I would so fuck you right now and make you beg for mercy…

“Oh, and Zander?”

“Yeah?” I turn back.

“Can you please bring us back some more breadsticks?”

I can’t help but laugh in disbelief. What gall. For a virgin girl, she sure has the biggest fucking mouth on her.

“Oh, don’t worry about that Zander,” Merva says. “We’ll just ask the waiter.”

“Please…” I say, taking out my wallet and grabbing hundreds like they’re fucking nothing to me! “How did you get here tonight?”

“Uber…” the dad says meekly.

“Cancel your Uber. Take the Limo I have waiting outside, whenever you’re ready. I insist.”

“Thanks, Mister Troy!” the mom says. “Wow, he’s so much nicer in person than he looks on TV!”

I fake smile and walk away, contorting my mouth in wrath…shaking in uncontrolled evil villainy! Sexual frustration…yeah, that’s what turns ordinary men into supervillains.

A nice man. A superhero. A rich man, a leader. Aside from these abstract qualities, I have no idea what the world wants me to be. They want me to be the man from the commercials, an abstract figurehead, a hero, a champion of nothing in particular. They want me to be peripherally beautiful but empty inside…and yet they scoff when they learn my only master or god is money.

Even the lovely Maya said that my lowbrow sensibility, my lack of impulse control, WAS the problem. Perhaps she feels that her boyfriend “Billy” would make a better husband, a better father. Why? Because he believes in a Catholic God like she does? Or because he doesn’t have obscene wealth and an extravagant lifestyle? Maybe THAT makes him heroic. That makes him a decent, honest person.

My obsession with Maya has spread to this mysterious Billy Rogers character. She let his name slip during one particularly rushed phone call. She mentioned that Billy was an agronomy sales representative. Bald, white and what Maya calls “beautiful on the inside”.

It didn’t take me long to look up a William J. Rogers in listed Fort Worth agronomy sales. Twenty-five years old and very “beautiful on the inside”, judging from his dorky website headshot photo.

It was also easy to call his direct number and mention that I had a business proposition for him…to be delivered in person, over lunch. Naturally, it was an offer Billy, or his superiors, couldn’t refuse…especially when they heard my name.

I stand up to meet Billy and shake his hand, giving him a congenial smile that suggests I have absolutely no interest in his personal life. But something David always told me still rings true…sometimes business must become personal.

I told Billy to meet me at Jerry’s Deli, for a brief chat. I stand up and welcome him to his seat across from me. As I sit down, I focus my wrath upon his gerbil eyes. His docile posturing and moronic smile instantly put me in a bad mood.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mister Troy,” Billy says energetically. “When they told me I was actually meeting with YOU and not some sales rep, I was floored. I tell you what…this is kind of a dream come true.”

“Oh yes, for me, too,” I say mindlessly. “Well, more like a daydream than a lucid dream.”

“Well heck, I know you’re doing us all the favors. But just the honor to work with you is all that matters to me.”

“Yes. And I wonder…are you a self-starter, Billy? Do you mind if I call you Billy?”

“No, that’s fine,” he says cluelessly. “Well yeah, I’m a go-getter. I own my own small business even though my top clients keep me in business. But I found those clients working my butt off. Being a self-starter is just—?”

“Yeah whatever, that’s great. So if you were to receive a large amount of money, such as…I don’t know…a non-repayable grant…what would that do for business?”

Billy stares silently until he erupts into laughter. “Well…now I’m thinking I’m the one dreaming. I mean is this a prank? Am I on America’s Funniest Videos?”

“What is that? America’s what?”

“Oh it was a…just a show from the 1990s. Not sure why I keep talking about it since it was like twenty years ago”

“No, Billy. Bad move. Don’t be talking about shit from the 1990s. Think modern. Think contemporary, the zeitgeist of TODAY!”

“Right! You’re right.”

“Today it’s all about the VINES. Have you seen those vines on YouTube?”

“Oh yeah, that shit cracks me up-”

“Billy, don’t swear. It’s not professional during an interview.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“I mean, I’m the client, I could say whatever the fuck I want. But you need me, so you need to play it safely. You feel me?”

“Right. Yeah I’m learning stuff from you already!”

“You know what I like the most, Billy?” My disposition sours as I feel my blood pressure spike. This bastard is not going to take away my Maya. “Those funny YouTube videos where the birds are misbehaving. Yes…the chicken videos. Chickens chasing cats, chasing dogs. Chasing people. It’s quite poetic in a way. Very mollifying.”

“Ummm, yeah, I guess so. Very fowl behavior, right?”

Billy laughs but I stare him down in snarling rage.

“Sorry. I know a few chicken jokes. Want to hear them?”

“NO, I don’t, you fucking inbred hick!” The very idea of Maya choosing HIM over ME is making my skin crawl. Who does this dickhead country-bumpkin Romeo think he is?

“Excuse me?”

“You dishonest, lying scumbag chicken-farmer shit-kicking dildo!”

Billy smiles in confusion. “Am I being pranked? Is this a Logan Paul thing or…”

“The only PRANK is that Maya likes YOU when she could have a real man like me.”

My nostrils flare as my hand grips the table.

“Ohhh…” Billy says, scratching his head. “Ohhh!” he says with an inappropriate smile forming on his face. “I get it. You’re the psycho ex Maya keeps talking about.”

“EX? No, I’m NOT her ex.”

“Yeah, you’re not her ex,” he agrees. “Because she friend-zoned you before you got anywhere near her, that’s what she told me. Damn, partner, that must hurt to have a cute country girl like Maya dump your billionaire ass!”

“NO, she didn’t dump me. We are going to be together. That’s why I’m here.”

“Dude, I’m not going to fight you. And if you think Maya’s going to respect you just because you’re trying to alpha cock your way into her life, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Alpha cock? Is that an agronomy expression?”

“Cock as in a rooster. Not as in your anatomy, weirdo. Look, I’m not going to get into a pissing contest with you. Let Maya make her choice. But if you feel the need to come here and make threats, I suspect you’re losing and I’m winning.”

“On the contrary, BILLY, I came here not to make threats, but to make peace.”

I grab my wallet and pull cash out like I’m throwing bread for the birds.

I throw down a stack of bills on the table.

“What is this?”

“Your ‘grant’ money, Silly Willy. I want you to leave Maya alone. Voluntarily.”

He laughs and stares at me in disbelief. “I can’t be bought. Neither can Maya.”

I slap down more bills. “Count it.”

“What…it’s twelve grand. I make twelve grand in a few months. What do you think this is, some fucking…fucking…”

Billy flinches as I slap down another hundred grand. Dirty, filthy cash, pulled straight from a hooker’s tits. So reject my money, then, if it’s such a bane to your heroic existence.

“How much is that?” he asks.

“Over a hundred grand. I believe that’s the most dirty money any man has ever paid another man to simply walk away from a conversation.”

“No,” he says proudly. “I’ll make that in two years. And in two years, I know I can win Maya’s heart. Some people can’t be bought, you know.”

“Yes, well, some people are stubborn, aren’t they?”

“Yes, you are!”

“Have you gone to bed with her yet, Billy?” I ask with a wicked grin. “Don’t lie. She’s friend-zoned you just the same. The only difference, Billy, is that you will never bed Maya. You don’t have that special SPARK that she needs to feel horny. I do. I’m already halfway into her. She will come around sooner or later because no woman ever says no to Zander Troy. No woman can resist the touch of royalty. I just need YOU to stop fucking up my timeframe.”

He shakes his head…

I slam down another wad of cash on the table equaling one hundred grand. Cash bills.

“You’re going to lose anyway. Girls like Maya never go for the nice guy. I’m offering you money for you to lose. Money that can jumpstart your business. This is the best exit strategy in the history of civilized humankind.”

Billy sighs. He grabs the money and looks at it. “You know, Mister Troy, I’d like to think there are some things in life money can’t buy.”

“Like what? God? You’re right. God has no price. I was raised Catholic and the first thing I remember asking my mother was whether God was for sale. She said no. Lucky I didn’t live back in the day of papal indulgences, eh?”

“I have no idea what you just said, Mister Troy,” he says in resignation. “Look, I’m a simple guy. Your offer is tempting. But my business will be fine without a grant. My marriage to Maya will be fine without you.”

“I’m finished slamming down ten-grand dollar bills, Billy.”

“Good.”

“But you’re wrong. With the exception of God, everything else on earth can be bought. Acts of charity? Justice? Women? Love? All of it can be bought. Money is nothing, paper money is non-existent. Gold price fluctuates. But trade? Worth? That’s real. Power is the only currency, Billy.”

Billy stares helplessly as I grab a small billfold from my coat pocket. He looks at me as if he’s seen the Devil himself. A story he will no doubt tell his grandchildren someday, his lovable and heroic grandchildren descended from his lovely daughter, descended by some other woman who is NOT my Maya.

“Case in point, the largest bill that the U.S. Bureau of Engraving and Printing ever made was the $100,000 gold certificate. Printed in the Great Depression, with the portrait of Woodrow Wilson on the front.”

I slap down one Woodrow and look at Billy’s face in admiration. “These bills were so absurdly huge they were never issued to the general public. They were only used by the Federal Reserve. But through very tight connections, my family managed to secure a few of these babies. Worth more than the currency printed on them because of their historical value.”

“Mister Troy…”

I slap another Woodrow down. “There is no price beyond my reach. I will never stop fighting for Maya. Never. And at some point, she will realize that the more a man has to give, the more that man truly loves her. There is nothing more valuable than…resources, Billy.”

He grumbles and does a double take on the money. “Fine. You want me to walk away? I’ll walk. Let me just tell you something, Troy. I was never chasing after Maya just because she was a virgin. That’s…that’s juvenile. What I really loved about her was how pure her heart was. And that IS something that can never be bought.”

“Then perhaps we have at least one thing in common. To see this sick, cruel and depraved world through a virgin’s eyes…is the cure for all our depression.”

“You know why I’m taking this money?” Billy says, getting up from the table.

“Because you’re a good poker player, that’s why.”

“Because I pity you, Troy.”

“Oh?” I laugh at the very idea.

“It’s pretty obvious even to a dumb southern boy like me…you’re not chasing Maya. You’re trying to buy back your soul. What a sad man you must be, even with all that money. I hope you do win Maya’s heart. Maybe she’ll be the one thing in your life that’s worth a damn.”

I don’t argue with anything Billy says. I wait patiently as he throws his tantrum and then takes the money and leaves, never turning back once to reconsider.

Why would he? He NEVER loved her as much as I do and I just proved it. For a simple man like him, there’ll probably be a hundred Mayas that will soothe his broken heart. Sweet, injured women who fall for his starving poetry, his loyalty, his charm. There are so many of them, I see them every day, in every city.

But for me, there is only one who can stop the bleeding. The one who hasn’t been poisoned by the air we all breathe. That’s Maya. My pursuit of her is directly connected to realizing who I am as a person. I want to be the person Maya sees when she sees me. I’ve never felt more at peace with myself, than when I look at myself through her eyes. Every man wants a woman who sees him in the best light. I need to see myself in that light again…and she is the guiding light I need to know my true self.