02- a rich ass jerk

Laila Moore

_____

An aged man clad in an expensive six-piece suit walked into the office where I had been waiting. He carried a file which he dropped on the table then turned to face me.

I had stood when he walked in, and I did not miss the look on his face. He looked like he did not achieve what he desired that afternoon.

Robert Frederick was a well-known businessman in Las Vegas. He was known for his touch on real estate. Well, I couldn't have known him if it were not for Mister Ross. He was rich and was also famous for doing some business which succeeded.

"Good day, sir." I greeted him with the respect he deserved. He reminded me of my father who has always been making people want to lick the ground he stepped on.

"I heard that you have been waiting." He unbuttoned his coat and resumed taking it off. "How can I help you and first of all, who are you?"

"My name is Laila Moore. I came here in need of your favor." I commenced explaining as I held my gaze on him. It was something Mister Ross taught me. He told me to always be courageous, and one way to show your courage was by keeping eye contact.

"And which is?" He crossed his hands above his beer-weighted belly.

"I'm from California. I work for Castillo Ross and I am here to see his son." I went straight to the point.

His face went blank all of a sudden, and I suppose that I brought up an issue he hated to touch, judging from how unsettled he looked. He cleared his throat and walked around his mahogany table. He sank into his office chair and then granted me his attention.

"May I know why?" He asked and I was relieved because, for a second, I thought he was going to kick me out.

"His father is in hospital. He got into an accident and he is in a critical condition. His doctor requested me to look for his son."

He nodded then let out a heavy exhale. "Well, you are in the wrong place." He pulled a file that had been resting on the table and flung it open. "I don't know when was the last time I saw Oliver."

My brows pulled together. "I'm sorry?" I asked in shock. I needed to find him and he was the only hope. "Is there a way I can talk to him? sir, please."

I ambled closer to his table. He needed to help me because I had wasted my morning waiting for him and now it was past noontime, the day was ending.

He gazed up at me for a moment before he took his phone, "I can only give you his number, otherwise, I can't help." He went through the phone then gave it to me. "This is his number."

I fished for my phone in my handbag and entered the contacts. Upon entering, a name emerged on the screen, meaning it was the same number I had been calling.

"This…I have this number but it's off." I gazed down at him. "Does he have another one?"

"I don't know." He took his phone and tossed it on the table. "Now I am afraid but I can't help."

My heart sank. I felt like I was in a desert trying to look for a coin in the sand. There was no way I was gonna leave without him, I needed to find him.

"What about his mother, can I please talk to her?"

He lifted his face to look at me. "None of us knows where he is." He was growing cold. "I have helped you where I can, miss, so don't push this to levels we can't reach."

"Oh." My body stiffened. An exhausted exhale left my lips as I shoved my phone back into my bag. "I am sorry for bothering you. Have a lovely evening."

I had to leave, knowing I had no other means to find Oliver. I was weary and close to giving up.

I hadn't exited the office when his voice caught me.

"I have heard that he has been seen in a certain club lately, you could try your luck there. Though you will need a ticket to enter."

_____

The blaring music was fading the more we advanced towards the private wing of the club. I never booked a ticket, but Oliver's step dad knew a guy who helped me.

I had a lucky day, and Robert was helpful enough.

Oliver was in the club, and I must admit that the club screamed richness. It was luxurious, one could tell by the cars that pulled into the compounds of the club. And rumors were that it was new in the city.

A lady was ushering me to where I believed Oliver was. We were approaching a room that was farthest from the hallway. The lights around the place were dimmed and from inside, a low jazz music was playing.

"This is where you'll find him." The blonde lass uttered. "You have ten minutes."

"Thank you." I thanked the kind lady. She nodded and whilred to leave.

After I dismissed a heavy exhale, I lifted my fist and gently knocked. I never got any response.

I gripped the doorknob and twisted the door open. I pushed it gently as I shoved my head to peek inside, and when I was able to see inside, I was welcomed by many eyes staring at me.

Crap.

I offered them a smile then crept in like a kid who was caught red-handed while stealing sugar.

There were three men and each man had a lady spreading their nakedness on them. The men were perched on the sofa while holding glasses of drinks and another was holding a cigar. The room reeked of alcohol and cigars.

I sighed and then walked further in.

I was about to talk when I realized I did not know the face of the person of interest. Yes, I knew a lot about Mister Ross' son but what Mister Ross and I forgot was to know his face.

There, I scanned among them, using the only plan that I plotted quickly, the one who looked rich and decent was to be Oliver.

One man was clad in ragged trousers and a flowery shirt. His messy hair was all over his forehead. He looked more like a rock musician. Something about his appearance did not appease me. I know I was being judgemental but that was not how a billionaire's son would dress.

I drifted my eyes to the next guy. He was holding a cigar between his lips. He had an outlined mustache and his hair was pushed behind and tied into a low ponytail. He was clad in a fitting white tee shirt and a pair of fitting black trousers. He smoked and puffed it then his free hand crawled on the lady seated beside him. I could see how his fingers crept on her inner thighs. I scoffed silently and turned to the last guy.

His hand was on another girl's ass, gripping her hard with his fingers which were adored with countless rings. He had countless neck chains which hung on his chest. He was clad in all black, which by the way, made him look decent. His hair was well styled, part of it falling utterly on his forehead. He was sipping his drink as he stared at me over the rim of the glass.

"Done eye fucking us?" The guy with a flowery short-sleeved shirt asked. I knew he was talkative, so he was likely a musician.

I cleared my throat and stared at the guy who was busy painting his nails on the girl's ass. The guy in black.

"Hi. Now, without wasting time, can you gather yourself and follow me?" I held my gaze on him.

He flashed his brows up. I could see the others staring at him as if expecting an explanation as to why a girl dressed in black jeans, and an oversized hoodie was calling for him.

"Oh, my bad. Please excuse your partner as he comes with me, his father is sick." I forced a smile at the other men who stared at me in stupefaction.

"My father is sick?" He asked as though he did not hear me well.

"I suppose I did not stutter. Can we please save time here?"

He chuckled then messed up his posture, thanks to me that the lady's ass got its freedom.

"Who are you again?" He asked.

"Is that necessary? Aren't you supposed to be getting up?"

He slammed the glass on the table and then glared. "Are you purposely trying to remind me of my dead father?!" He roared and my face fell.

Shit!

"Who is she?" The guy smoking asked. I faced him and knowing I had mistaken, I knew it was time to tell them the guy I needed.

"Oliver…" I blurted and they all shot their gazes at me. The guy who had been smoking paused his activity and stared at me. From the look, he was the one and I was so disappointed. "...are you Oliver?"

"Who are you?"

"Your father's PA." I coldly stared back "Like I said, your father is sick, you should come with me."

He scoffed then grabbed a glass of whatever drink, he then leaned back on the sofa. His paired lady didn't hesitate to push her leg across his torso.

"Get out." He roughly stated with his cold gaze directed at me.

I chuckled then smacked my lips. "One thing he forgot to mention to me was, you are a jerk."

I walked towards them, I had seen a half bottle of liquor and that was my target.

"Jerk?" He asked. "Who are you call–"

"Please, I have had a long day so, get up and follow me." I grabbed the bottle. "If it's drink, I will carry it for you and if it's for her…you can fucking come with her."

I saw his jaws tighten. I ignored the gasping sound from his partners. I did not miss the look on his face. He was silently consuming me.

"Your father is sic–"

"He can die, I don't care now, get the fuck out before I lose it, woman."

"Trust me, I did not book a flight here for nothing."

"Okay, girl, cam–"

"Shut up!" I pointed the bottle at the third guy with rings and necklaces everywhere. "I'm talking to him." I faced back at Oliver. "Are you coming or not?"

He was biting his lower lip so tight that he could rip it. He held his glare on mine and after some time, he nodded

"Okay." He pushed the lady off him so roughly that she groaned. He then got up and towered me, fuck, he was so tall. "I will save them the bad smell and come with you, because you stink, woman."

That was followed by some silent laughter. He jammed my shoulder as he walked beside me heading to the door.

He was right, I stank because I did not know when I last showered. But that was less of my worries, like knowing I found him.