Love at the Moreno Mansion

Julian Moreno was alone in the office drinking his champaign. The office had just thrown a great party, with balloons, expensive wine, food, entertainment that included a band at first, then a D.J. and a group of male and female models popping out a giant cake wearing bathing suits, but now the party was over. Despite the help wanting to clean up the mess, Julian sent them away with a reprimand.

“Come back tomorrow morning, 3:00am,” he had ordered. One of the help had told him that she couldn’t because she had to take her son to school.

“I’m going to allow you to be absent only this once because your son’s education is important for the country and who knows, I might even need to hire him, but if you do this again, you’ll be fired,” Julian told her pointing a finger at her and frowning angrily. The help cleared her throat.

“Sir... Mr. Moreno... I can call in someone to substitute me,” she said, her short curls dangling over her ears a bit and on her neck. Her hair smelled of a cheap, imitation of rose shampoo. He thought it wasn’t a great smell, but it wasn’t so terrible either.

“Oh, well, I’m glad you have a brain of your own, I will definitely not fire you then. What’s your name again?” He asked her.

“Sandra,” she replied gently.

“Sandra?” He asked her and then looked at his expensive, golden, analogical wristwatch, then he arched an eyebrow and glanced at her way. Sandra swallowed some bile nervously, hoping that he was serious of not firing her because she just couldn’t find another job right now.

“Very well... if you find a substitute... I will... give you a raise,” Julian told her. She smirked, but dared not to celebrate in front of him. She instead lowered her head and looked at the floor that was filled with blowed up balloons, spilt expensive alcholic beverages, smudges of food that she could only dream of and colorful confetti.

“Well, what’s the matter? Don’t you like the raise? Do you want it or not?” He asked her and she immediately looked up and smiled. Then she raised her hands, hopped a few times and hugged him.

“Oh, sir... I mean... Mr. Moreno, but of course I like the raise. Of course, of course, of course,” she said hugging him excitingly and Julian grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands and arms away from him.

“Sandra, please. Let’s not exaggerate the situation. Do that again and I’ll fire you regardless if your son has to go to school tomorrow or not,” Julian said.

“Sir... I mean Mr. Moreno, no, please, I am so sorry. You are right, I exaggerated,” she said and nodded quickly.

“Okay, okay, go away now. Find the substitute and you get the raise, now please, leave,” he said and she nodded. Julian brushed away what he thought were her fingerprints, although of course, he knew it was impossible to brush away her fingerprints. His suit cost him $100,000 dollars and he wasn’t about to ruin it with the fingerprints of the help. Sandra opened the door and walked out of the office. Before someone else from the help left, Julian told him to turn off all of the lights.

“Yes, Mr. Moreno,” the man, young and agile, told him and he did as Julian had said, he turned off all of the lights in the office and then he left.

He just wanted to be alone now. Finally, he had signed one of the greatest mergers in the history of not only the Moreno family, but also in the history of the Obsedian Crest. Now his third company Limitless Skies was merged with the Sinclair family’s company, Eagle One. It was an event that had taken place after two years of dirty looks, negotiations, a few betrayals, gossip, restaurant meetings, conference meetings, news articles, good luck and a few trips to Fisher Island.

He grabbed a glass of wine and looked outside the long, rectangled shaped windows with a view of the most expensive and lavish skyscrapers of the city. He had everything a man could ever dream of, he had yatchs, owned a helicopter, an airplane, various homes and apartments, he could travel anywhere and everywhere at whatever time, but he didn’t have what he wanted the most, love.

As he stared outside and saw all of the majesty before him, all of the glory made of steel, concrete and insulated glass units he thought of his last girlfriend, Anastasia Clarington, the daughter of a wealthy Blockbuster, Hollywood actor. She had beautiful long, wavy and fluffly, red hair and some very small and few freckles on her face and body. She wore elegant, short dresses all of the time and her smell of her very expensive floral perfume still lived in his memory like if his brain had a pendrive archive. Julian couldn’t forget her long nails scratching his back when he had her in his bed, he couldn’t forget her big breasts or magnificent legs and suddenly he just threw the glass wine right at the window. The glass crashed on the window and broke into tiny pieces, the red wine splashed and smudged all over the insulated glass units window, a window that was bulletproof, fireproof and was protected by winds, rain, height and everything else necessary that complied with important building standards. Lines of liquid red wine fell to the carpeted floor. He didn’t care. Tomorrow everything would be taken care of anyway.

He was just so angry to remember his ex girlfriend, Anastasia. Anastasia, the woman he was going to marry. Anastasia, the daughter of the famous Hollywood actor, Anastasia, the gorgeous red head with the incredible body of an athlete. Anastasia, the fucking whore, the traitor! It was a Friday night and he bought a bouquette of flowers himself. He hadn’t ordered it as he usually did with the other women that he dated because he wanted to hand pick it personally for her and give it to him herself.

That, terrible, horrible Friday night that he had decided to leave the office early after an argument with his father Evander over a silly bill of $2 and a half million dollars, just change money for materials for a new building in France. That horrible Friday, cursed Friday, the worst Friday of his life, November 13th. He called her cell phone, she said she was at a friend’s yatch, a woman named Mimia and that she wouldn’t be able to see him until much later.

“Honey, I’m with Mimia, you remember, the actress from the movie of I Fell In Love With a Werewolf,” she said over her cell phone.

“Oh, yeah, right...” Julian had answered and she hadn’t given him any other explanation. She just hung up the phone.

“Okay, I’ll have some lunch then at Nouvous restaurant. I’ll go see my best friend Peter,” he had said and when he arrived at the restaurant, he did see his friend Peter at one of the exclusive and reserved tables at the eating place, but he wasn’t alone. He was kissing his girlfriend and what he thought could be his future wife, Anastasia Clarington. Kissing her and enjoying her tongue almost as if she was a pear. Peter, his absolute best friend since high school, kissing her and grabbing her everywhere as if he had a license plate and registration of her body to his name. Julian walked right to the table. The manager of the restaurant was about to stop him, but didn’t. When he saw Julian’s red, tomato face, he knew it was best to just not interfere with the situation.

Julian walked right over at the table where the adulterous and betraying couple kissed and he tossed the flowers right at the white tableclothed and round table for two. It was Anastasia who heard the noise of the flowers fall on the table and then she looked up at Julian and froze.

“Well, Mimia sure looks a lot like my “best” friend, Peter,” he said quoting the word best with his fingers in mid air. Peter stared at him shocked.

“Julian?” He barely uttered.

“Don’t you dare tell me that this isn’t what it looks like or some stupid shit like that,” Julian said and Peter swallowed some bile and then shook his head.

“No... I’m not going to. It is exactly what you’ve seen. Julian... I do have an explanation,” Peter said getting up.

“I don’t want to hear it. I - don’t -want -to -hear -it.” Julian said slowly with so much rage inside of him. His finger pointed at Peter.

“Julian!” He said. It took Julian so much energy and resolve, to just walk out of that restaurant, but Peter followed him outside.

“Julian, wait,” Peter said.

“How could you, Peter? How could you? My best friend, I trusted you,” Julian said.

“Julian... I know... I’m so sorry, but if you could just hear me out,” Peter said.

“Hear you out? Hear you out?′ Julian said repeatly. He tried so hard not to lose his mind. His breath hitched and he tried, he really tried not to lose his temper, but this was more than what he could bare, what could any human being could bare. The humiliation, he thought to himself as he remembered seeing his paws all over his girlfriend, his woman.

“Look, she was going to tell you,” Peter said.

“Tell me? Tell me what, when?” Julian said, his nostrils flared.

“She was going to break up with you. She didn’t tell you?” Peter said.

“Really?”

“Julian... she’s expecting a child,” Peter said.

“She’s expecting what?” He asked. Had he heard Peter right?

“A child. She’s... the baby... it’s mine,” Peter said. Julian just couldn’t take it anymore. He punched his friend on the sidewalk. The people there all stepped back and somebody screamed.

“Call the police,” someone screamed.

“No. It’s okay. I deserved that,” Peter shouted back at the crowd. Julian breathed so heavily, that even his shoulders were moving. He trembled of rage all over.

“I’m out of here,” he said as blood ran down Peter’s nose. The red wine running down that same window tonight reminded him of that, it reminded him of Peter’s nose. Julian may have had almost everything on this Earth, but there was one thing missing in his life, one thing that he would die for and that thing was love.