Clay's Unwanted Blondie

Chapter 5

                             ♥⁠╣CLAY╠⁠♥
"MAKE SURE YOU leave some pills for her by the nightstand and a glass of water. Ensure she eats something when she wakes up. Call me when she leaves"

The minute he stepped foot in the elevator of one of his many hotels in LA, his phone buzzed against his pockets.

"Ryder"

"The meeting began twenty minutes ago. Where the fuck are you?"

Tucking a drunk missis in bed. He wanted to say.

"On my way"

"And Clay? You feeling alright?"

"It's just one meeting, Ryder"

The first meeting he had ever been late to and it ate him up worse than the time he forgot about his sister's birthday.

"That's not what I meant", he laughed mischievously before adding, "see you when you get here"

Minutes later, he was in his car wading through the traffic like a mad man. Today's meeting was an important one and he had missed it all because Brooklyn Konstantinos wasn't mature enough to meet him when she was sober and when she was actually on time.

Then like a crazy fucker, he had done the most absurd thing in a public place.

He had carried a woman on his back while the said woman cried the words 'choo choo' over and over again.

Getting her inside his car wasn't an easy feat either and getting her to shut up while he drove her to the closest hotel he trusted wasn't close to being peaceful.

They named you Clay because you have bluish eyes.

Or maybe because you are like Clay? Bland and dark

Is it true what they say in the magazines, you graduated from Harvard. That you are clever like Ein...Einstein?

You are not much of a talker are you?

He had spoken to her only once and that was to tell her she needed to wear a seatbelt.

If a truck collided with us from my side...a seatbelt wouldn't help. I would die on the spot and you'd die as well and that would suck.

Why would it suck? He had asked kicking himself on the inside for entertaining her.

Think of it this way, if we die the chances of our bodies being unrecognizable are high. The angel of death will have a difficult time knowing which body is mine and which is yours. She might end up taking my soul to hell and yours to heaven by mistake

She was drunk out of her mind and a man like him steered away from such nonsense but still the question ate him up.

Why do you think I belong to hell and you heaven? Last I checked, heaven doesn't accept drunkards

Hey! I'm not drunk

She slapped him on the shoulder not caring whether they were in a busy street where one wrong move would lead to a head on collision with another car.

I can feel these things. I--I might be drunk but I'm a good person and you on the other hand aren't. You fire almost a thousand people yearly from your company just for the thrill of it. You don't give your money to charity and based on what I read you don't go easy on the ladies either. So who's going to hell now?

He glanced at her briefly and she slurred the words,

What? I did my homework. I know everything about you, Clay Cervantes.