3rd Person POV
Alarm clocks and Lipstick
Alexis Tremaine woke to the incessant blaring of what sounded like a dying whale. Or at least what she assumed sounded like one, only to realize in her half hazed state that the torturous noxious sounds were emitting from her digital alarm clock located to the left of her California King. Without lifting her eyelids, which seemed to have gained a good twenty to thirty pounds overnight, she lazily reached her manicured fingers over to angrily silence her current arch-nemesis.
Asshole! She grimaced.
Stretching and attempting to wipe the sleep from her eyes, Alexis realized two things; one, she had forgotten to remove her false eyelashes, and two, from the massive warm form underneath her sheets beside her, she brought someone home with her. Mentally scolding herself for once again picking up a stray, Alexis silently pondered the quickest way to rid herself of the male body beside her. She couldn’t even remember his name. The bare muscular back with a black crow tattoo revived a bit of her hangover infused haze. Gavin, that was it. The twenty-something-year-old valet had shamelessly hit on her when he brought her Mercedes over for her from the lot. She vaguely remembered the course of events that led him here into her home. Into her bed. Her infamous pick- up line to his flirtation was something about if he were able to handle a car as smooth as hers on the way home, then she’d smoothly handle him in bed.
Meh, not the most original of her flirtatious quips, but Gavin didn’t seem to mind either way.
Despite being on the brink of death, she was almost forty, Alexis was still single and living as free as any man in her position would be doing. If men were considered womanizers, she was the ying to that yang; she was a mananizer. Her own coined phrase, of course. She may be pushing forty, but her body was far from showing it. She had spent agonizing amounts of money on her personal gym equipment, holistic treatments, and even an occasional lift when needed. She was the epitome of obsessive perfection. She had to be. One bad hair day, and you could be replaced by someone younger, cuter, and hungrier. Her countless years earned Alexis a place at the top of the food chain.
Being in the business long enough taught her well. Journalism was a man’s world, or at least that’s what most men would claim, but Alexis fit right in. She was ruthless, brutally honest, very astute, and chock-full of skepticism. Alexis had a knack for sniffing out a good story but always made sure every angle was covered in case her story turned out to be a bust. If that were the case, she’d simply make her way down to the local PD and seduce one of the detectives for a little inside info on whatever the latest hot ticket seems to be.
Was it the most ideal way of earning a living? Not really.
Did she enjoy what she did? Definitely.
Alexis wouldn’t change a thing. No Regrets. That was her life’s mantra.
Finally dragging her exhausted body up from the confines of the twisted sheets that still held the sweet smell of sex and sweat, Alexis made her way to the bathroom for a shower. Without any regard for her nudity, she paused at the doorway when she realized that she still had a guest that needed to go.
Without even turning around, she made her intentions clear.
“Hey, buddy. It’s been great and all, but I’ve got a very important interview to get ready for, and you need to leave. I’m going to take a shower and would appreciate it if you made yourself scarce by the time I’m done. I know you didn’t drive here, so I left a fifty on the counter if you need a cab or Uber. Leave your number; maybe I’ll give ya a jingle if you’re up for another romp.”
She heard his stirring, so she understood he had heard her. She stood in front of the wall-length mirror and smiled at herself. The little shit had left a few love bites along her collar bone. It looks like she’d have to make sure to wear something that covers up any traces of her sexual transgressions. Gavin was fun, though; she reminisced about all the ways and places in her home that the young stud had taken her. Not so little Gavin was quite the sexual aficionado for such a young age, and damn the things that boy could do with his tongue; she’d experience two of her several orgasms with that titillating tickler alone!
Perhaps she would consider him as a potential fuck buddy for a while if he played his cards right.
Alexis wasn’t one for the unnecessary tedium of a relationship, well, at least not since her third divorce. She was only indulging in short term sentiments. Nothing more, nothing less. It may seem cold and heartless, but Alexis had learned one too many times not to put false hopes into something that was only bound to turn to shit in the long run. She was at least happy that her last divorce didn’t result in her needing to find a new job. Her ex, Michael Weigman, the Editor in Chief where she works, knew better than to burn bridges with his money maker.
At least he proved his worth. It was his doing that Alexis was getting ready for the interview of a lifetime. Somehow, Mike managed to score an exclusive interview with one of the most mysterious and yet famous businesswomen of our time Nina Salvatore, owner, and founder of Chewie’s Chunky Cookies. The woman’s business literally became the country’s highest-selling cookie company overnight. From all the research, Alexis had managed to dig up on the elusive Nina Salvatore; her cookie company was mainly just a local business founded in rural Minnesota. From there, she began selling her cookies online. It wasn’t until a year ago where Chewie’s became a household name. The company was also set to launch its first international factory in Asia. Being America’s cookie mogul made Nina Salvatore big news. Everyone wanted her story, and the woman always managed to keep anything remotely private about herself well-hidden. To be granted an interview was like getting Willy Wonka’s Golden Ticket; it was nearly impossible, and Alexis was meeting with this woman in less than three hours. Alexis was utterly ecstatic; hell, she was even planning to give Mike a blowjob for him coming through for her with such a huge break.
Alexis stepped out of her onyx stone floor shower onto the plush merlot colored bath rug. Wrapping herself up in a black chenille robe that was hanging on one of the hooks beside the glass shower walls, she made her way back into her room.
Looking around, Alexis noticed that her earlier guest had departed, took the fifty she had left him, and left his phone number on her full-length mirror; he had written it in her favorite lipstick. Alexis shook her head and laughed at the balls on this guy. She had to give him credit; while it was no surprise that he was gone as well as the money, she hadn’t expected him to leave her his phone number, and in her own lipstick for that matter. Yep, she thought to herself, I think I’ll keep this one around for a bit.
Deciding to return her focus on getting ready, Alexis pulled out her Chanel white embroidered tweed dress and black wool tweed jacket; this special interview deserved only the best attire. Everything had to be perfect. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and she was not planning on fucking anything up.
After getting ready, she gathered all her tools of the trade; these included her laptop, notes, recorder, and flash drives. She then quickly downed a cup of coffee in her lucky red ceramic mug, grabbed her car keys, and headed towards her garage where her more practical car, a red Audi A6, was waiting to take her to the interview that would change her entire life.