A Betting Man / a Marrying Man Read Online Free PDF

“Because I know you used to be that man on Wall Street. So what happened, huh? The rat race get to be too much for you?”
    Spencer flopped down into his chair with a loud sigh. I felt bad now. In my curiosity, I had looked him up about six months into my employment with him. He’d been one hell of a force to be reckoned with at the tender age of twenty-three. Four years later, he just dropped out of sight one day. Spencer sighed loudly and rubbed his face with his hands.
    “Yes, Terry. That’s what happened. I forgot who I was and I stepped all over people to get to the top. That wasn’t me, I was not that kind of man and at the end of the day… I just couldn’t look in the mirror anymore.”
    Spencer stood up and walked to me, taking my hands.
    “Just promise me you won’t change, okay? Don’t let Kent Samson turn you into someone you’re not.”
    I almost snorted. If only Spencer knew my family, how I’d grown up, he’d see that I was never that man. I’d left home because I couldn’t conform to that lifestyle, be that person. Money, in the wrong hands, was evil. I’d seen it enough growing up. It certainly wasn’t going to affect me now. I squeezed Spencer’s hands and smiled at him.
    “I won’t change, Spencer. Do I love the jacket? Sure I do. Will I throw out this one? Hell, no.” And I wouldn’t. I’d bought my flannel jacket from a thrift store with my first real paycheck. It was mine. The first real piece of clothing I’d bought with money I’d earned. It was a symbol of my independence from my family. Spencer seemed to deflate a bit and he smiled at me.
    “I’m sorry, I just don’t want you to change, Terry. You’re a good kid.”
    “I’m twenty-three.” I raised my brows.
    “I’m almost thirty. You’re a kid.”
    Spencer eyed me for a moment and then grinned.
    “So? Is he a good kisser?”
    I laughed.
    * * * *
    For the next three days, Kent would text me in the morning telling me to have a good day, and then again at night to tell me to sleep well. It was cute. I was standing in front of Joe’s getting my cup of coffee when my cell phone beeped at me. I looked at the text and smiled.
    How about dinner on Friday?;)
    I know I must have looked drugged up on some good shit as I read the text. My cheeks hurt I was smiling so wide. I texted him back.
    Sure. What time and where?
    Seven? @ Gray’s?
    The man was my hero.
    Sounds good. ;-)
    I’ll see you then! <3
    My jaw dropped. Kent Samson had put a little heart at the end of his text? Why did I feel like a teenage girl? I seriously wanted to run down the street screaming. This was New York City, no one would notice. I take that back… the tourists would notice and then I’d be on YouTube with the heading “Crazy New Yorker screams down Broadway!”
    Eh.
    I pocketed my phone and finished my deliveries for the day. By the time I got home, an angry Figaro was meowing at my bedroom window. I let him in and went to take a quick shower. I flopped down on my bed and turned the TV on. My phone chimed and I picked it up. Kent was calling. My heart raced immediately. I hit ‘talk’ and sprawled back on my bed.
    “Hello.”
    “Hi, how was your day?”
    I smiled to myself. “It was good. Thanks for the texts.”
    “You’re welcome. I’m looking forward to Friday.”
    “Me too, there’s just one thing,” I grinned.
    “Oh?”
    “Well, I need to know if I should order my usual.” It was quiet for a few seconds. I’m sure Kent was wracking his brain trying to remember my hotdog from our first meeting.
    “No onions. I plan on kissing you. Goodnight, Terry.”
    “Night,” I breathed into the phone. I sounded like a 1-900 number. Kent wanted to kiss me again? God, I needed to jack off. I looked over to the side to see Figaro staring at me.
    Yeah, not jacking off with the cat staring at me.

~KENT~
    The week went by so slowly I thought Friday would never come, but here it was. I looked over the worksheets on my desk. Amazingly,