50 Shades of Drake 1 and 2

Chapter Thirty-Nine

    Toronto was good for Aubrey's soul. There was an energy the city had that nourished the very essence of his being. His mother worried that he wasn't eating enough, and cooked large meals. His friends continued to pour in, showering him with love. They brought their children, their wives. It was always love and happy times whenever they were around.

    Soon, the women he used to spend time with in Toronto started to text him. Most likely, word had trickled through the grapevine that he was in town. The televised interview could have had a hand in that, since he'd been filmed in the Toronto Pearson International airport. He'd responded to a few of them. He wasn't quick to reject their advances. During his stay here, he would appreciate the company of at least one of them. Anything that would help him get his mind off of Destiny.

    He'd texted Destiny, several times. He wanted to know if she saw the interview, wanted to know what she'd thought about it. She wasn't responding. Her name was being juggled around in the press. Soon, they'd start stalking her, too. Stick cameras in her face, ask her how she'd scored the interview with the Aubrey Graham. Ask her if she was involved with him. They'd ask her a lot of things. He sipped his hot cocoa, wondering how she'd respond.

    He stood near the living room window of his mother's house, peering outside. Feeling very much like a fish in a fishbowl. Snow blanketed the yard, but had already been plowed from the sidewalk and streets. Specks of snow gleamed beneath the sunlight. He wore a navy blue, long-sleeved cashmere sweater that his mother had purchased for him and dark jeans.

    "Are you going to stand there all day?"

    Aubrey turned and smiled at the sight of Oliver El-Khatib, his friend of more than a decade and his former manager. "I was thinking about it," Aubrey joked dryly. He walked across the room and embraced his friend. "It has been a long time."

    "Indeed," Oliver said, peeling his gray trench coat from his shoulders and draping it across the back of the couch near the entrance to the room. "So...talk to me. You couldn't get anywhere with the politicians, so you're going to get the program off the ground yourself?"

    "As you know from my text, I received sound advice that I should consider running the program myself," Aubrey explained. "I had...what you may call a strong reaction after the final meeting."  

    "Meaning you went off," Oliver said knowingly. He seated himself on the long, cream-colored couch. He'd grown his brown hair back out. It curled just above his shoulders. There were no traces of judgment in his bright green eyes.

    Aubrey remained standing and returned to his spot near the window. "Meaning I went off," he admitted softly.

    "Did anyone witness that?"

    Aubrey shook his head. "It was in the bathroom, after the meeting."

    "Thank goodness for that," Oliver muttered, breathing a sigh of relief. "So...on the phone, you said that you wanted to start small, just a few cities."

    "The person who advised me made the suggestion and stated that once the program is shown to be a success, other powerful people would jump on board. Which I agree with."

    "This...random person you keep referencing," Oliver said, narrowing his eyes. "Would it be anyone I know?"

    Aubrey lowered his gaze to the floor.

    "A woman, I'm guessing," Oliver said, continuing to study his friend.

    "You'd be correct."

    Oliver nodded silently and draped an arm across the back of the couch. "So..."

    "She was the student who interviewed me."