Free In The Company of Billionaires - Part 1 by Ashley Rivers Page B

cried.
‘To hear you admit that you’ve fallen in love with me is a sobering
thought,’ he said, getting up and handing me the joint of weed.
    ‘That's not
what I meant,’ I said with a laugh.
    He kissed me.
‘Be quiet, lover. Lemme pour us the champagne to clear our heads,’
he said, getting out of bed.
    I laughed and
slapped his naked butt. I lay my head back on the pillow and faced
the ceiling. I took a drag at the weed and felt it lift me to the
skies. It felt absolutely fantastic to be alive.

     
     
    The Job
     
     
    The sexual
healing provided to me by one Taraje Jackson didn’t last long.
Soon, I was spending sleepless nights, thinking about impending
poverty that was lurking in the horizon. I didn’t have any money
saved that would warrant any mentioning. I’d worked as a teacher
for two years at a private school, but my Mathematics education had
not yet taught me how to save money.
    I was still
knee-deep in a pile of debt that had come to me by way of student
loans. It was a pile to whose shrinking I contributed a large
amount of my monthly salary. And then after rent took its own share
of my earnings I was left with barely enough to eat and dress
myself. It was a system that had worked well for the past two
years, but with the termination of my services at the school where
I had taught teenagers the fundamentals of Mathematics, it was a
system that would soon become dysfunctional. As that was an
eventuality that I didn’t relish, I went on a feverish hunt for new
ways of income.
    This hunt led
to me getting invited for an interview for a tutoring job. After
calling the number that was provided in the online advert I was
e-mailed the directions to a home in Long Island. Because of the
aforementioned financial problems in my life, I don’t as yet have a
car. I fully depend on New York City’s esteemed public transport
system to get around. Hence, I took a cab to Long Island.
    When I arrived
there, I was interviewed for the tutoring job by a married couple.
The man was a big-framed giant with a gentle smile. He was black.
His wife was a thin-framed white bitch with glowing skin and a fake
tan. She had long, blonde hair and one of those judgmental faces
rich bitches seem to always have. I hated her at first sight, and
judging by the way she looked at me, the feeling was mutual. It was
the first interview that I actually yearned to fail. But as things
never actually go the way we wish in life, I actually nailed the
interview, and found myself the Math tutor of Mr. and Mrs.
Hensley’s 17-year-old son.
    The son was a
youth with a head full of curly black hair and a handsome face. He
was tall like his father, but his complexion was much lighter
because of the mixed genes from both of his parents. He looked
older than his seventeen years, but I guess that was because I
myself had been seventeen only seven years previously. He had an
athletic body, and was addicted to basketball and cars. His parents
had bought him for his 18th birthday a Mercedes Benz SLS Gullwing
roadster. For the uninitiated, the price for that phallic symbol is
almost $200,000. To put it in perspective, I could have paid off my
student loan debt and still remained with enough change to pay my
rent for several months with that money.
    He drove
himself in that car every day to his private school in the Upper
East Side. However, at the famous private school he attended, the
young man was more interested in sports activities and girls than
the academic side of things, so much that he had fallen behind in
his Mathematics scores, and his parents were worried that he would
not make it to Wall Street.
    The Hensleys
were a very wealthy couple, but for some reason they had decided to
have only one child to solidify their marriage. And for some
mysterious reason they had decided to name that child of theirs
Fortune.

     
     
    The House
     
     
    He found her in
the laundry room.
    She was
standing at the sink separating colors. He came and stood