“You and I are different people, Suzette. You enjoy your family life and I enjoy my business one. Thank you for your concern, but I’m perfectly content.”
I don’t mean to speak with a clipped tone, but I can tell I am by the way her hopeful smile purses into a taut frown.
Still, I’m only speaking the truth.
Between my dog, my colleagues, and my business, I don’t need anyone else. That’s how I’ve always lived and that’s how I plan to continue. I see no reason to change. Not when anyone I date would most likely only be interested in me for my money. And God knows that would end terribly. I’d be right back where I came from, stuck in a loveless marriage, probably with kids who suffered for it.
No, being single is best for me.
Now if only I could get everyone to understand that.
Suzette heaves a sigh that seems to come all the way from the tips of her toes. “Whatever you say.”
“Now,” I begin, glancing down at my watch and then climbing to my feet. I smooth my hands over my suit, making sure the expensive fabric has not a single crease, “I’ve got just enough time to go home and visit Rosco before I return to start the weekend research. You can go on home, Suzette. Enjoy your family.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, watching me with sympathetic eyes as I grab my things and head from the office.
Though I know the staff loves their time off, I’d always appreciated my weekend shifts here in the office. From Monday to Friday the skyscraper is bustling with activity, but on the weekends it becomes much more quiet and peaceful. Sometimes I think I get my best work done on the endless Saturday and Sunday shifts I spend here. The only thing that I truly dislike about being here so often is that my boy Rosco can’t come with me. I’d brought him in once only to have the spunky gray beast chew up one of the business reports I’d spent at least twelve hours working on. I didn’t blame him, Rosco was only bored and acting out at the time, but it did make me realize that he just wasn’t a cubicle puppy.
It’s been almost five years now since I rescued him and he still has so much energy that it feels wrong keeping him cooped up in the office with me when he could be romping around my neighbor’s apartment and being taken for countless walks. I’m lucky to have that sweet old woman just a few stories down from me in my building who happily watches Rosco daily. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
As I make my way down the hallways of my office, my staff greets me eagerly, every single one watching me. They gaze on, awed just by my presence. I’ll never get tired of that. I know most of them have their own dreams of starting a company just like I did and making a ton of money, but the truth of the matter is that hardly any of them will go on to find even a sliver of the success that I have. It takes too much dedication. Too much blood, sweat and tears.
The ones who do make it may even turn out to be my competitors someday. That doesn’t stop me from basking in their admiration and my position as their business idol though. The more inspired my employees are, the harder they’ll work and the more they’ll add to the growth of our shared achievements.
By the time I walk out onto the bustling streets of New York City, the sun has drifted below the line of skyscrapers towering around me. The sidewalks buzz with people heading home at the end of their own long days, eager for Saturday to welcome them. I walk along with them, hands in my pockets, knowing my reprieve will be much shorter. I’m only returning to my penthouse apartment for a few minutes to see Roscoe. Then I’ll be making the familiar trek back to my office.
Suzette’s words linger in my mind as I march along, making me wonder just how long this chaotic life of mine might be sustainable.
My tech firm is all I’ve ever wanted, isn’t it?
I huff a laugh. Of course it is.
But why then do I keep hearing Suzette’s motherly tone ringing between my ears?
“Hello, sir!” the uniformed doorman greets me as I approach my apartment.
He grabs hold of the gold-plated door handle and draws it open, gesturing me inside with a slight bow. I smile at him, skin prickling as the cool breeze of the AC lovingly brushes away the lingering heat of summer.
I make my way to the elevator, stifling a yawn as I shoot upwards in the gold-plated lift. I’ll have to get a coffee on my way back to work. I can already tell my eyelids are going to be feeling heavy by the time midnight comes around and I have enough work to keep me going until at least the early hours tomorrow.
The elevator comes to an easy halt at the middle story of the building, the floor where my dog-watching neighbor lives. Mrs. Donnell and I met shortly after I first moved in. I’d been walking Rosco outside the front of the building when she sauntered right up to him and stroked his head before I had a chance to warn her that he didn’t like strangers. Fortunately, he’d been more than happy to allow her to stroke his ears. The rest just fell into place. We started talking and when she heard how much I worked, she’d offered to look after Rosco.
I think she was lonely, her family living across the country. She told me she’d had a poodle that recently passed and she was eager to hear the sound of four paws scurrying around her home again. At that point, I’d tried a few dog sitting services but they never worked out.
My Rosco is not a dog who trusts often.
He was a year old when I adopted him and had lived a difficult life. He was born into a puppy mill, neglected and downtrodden. He hid under my bed for a week after I brought him home. He’s come a long way since then, but he still remains cautious of strangers. Mrs. Donnell is the first person he let come near him in a long time, and I’d had little choice but to share him with her while I went to work.
When I knock on her door, I hear Rosco’s powerful bark and then a sharp whine when he recognizes my scent beyond the sturdy wood. His feet patter anxiously from side to side as Mrs. Donnell undoes the lock and swings open the door. Rosco launches into the hallway, jumping into my arms.
“Hey, boy!” I laugh, letting him lick my cheeks before calming him down. “Thanks so much, Mrs. Donnell. I’m going to take him up and feed him and then I’ll be back down in like half an hour to—”
“I’m so sorry about this, Cooper,” she interrupts.
For the first time I realize her weathered face is pale. Her eyes are teary and her mouth is pinched. I’ve never seen the jubilant woman look at me in such a way. “I’m not going to be able to watch him tonight, or tomorrow, or possibly for a very long time.”
“What happened?” I ask hurriedly, standing up.
Rosco seems to notice the change in mood, his tail tucking between his legs. He’s quick to pick up emotions. He gives a faint whine, nudging my hand with his powerful snout until I distractedly scratch him.
“It’s my sister. She’s taken ill and I need to fly out to see her. I know this is a huge inconvenience to you. I’m so sorry.”
I think of Suzette and the last time one of her boys had the flu. The woman had come in with bloodshot eyes and worry painted on every line of her face. Though I may not have close family of my own, I know just how I would feel if Rosco was sick.
“Don’t worry about that,” I answer hastily, despite the fact that my mind is reeling in an attempt to figure out what I’m going to do with Rosco while I’m supposed to be working this weekend.