I Hate Tuesdays Too
- 3 years ago
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Disgusted, Mitch hung up the phone, placed it back in the pocket of his Armani tuxedo and let out a sigh. He and Max would have to talk about troop discipline. The call had originated from the secure line in the bunkhouse. It was only to be used in extreme emergencies. Whoever was manning the phone hadn't even had the courtesy to apologize for interrupting his evening with such foul language. By tomorrow morning, the man would either apologize or end up in an unmarked grave. Mitch would personally see to that. Discipline was paramount to keeping the organization running in top form.
"You okay, Mitchie? I know losing your goddaughter must be hard. You're really brave to come out in public so soon." A woman wearing a low-cut cocktail dress cooed as she put an arm around him.
Mitch paused dramatically, and swept his gaze over the smartly dressed guests who were mingling in the hunting lodge's foyer. The fundraiser was in full swing, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. Mitch turned back to the gorgeous temptress. "It really is hard my dear, but I'm sure my goddaughter would want us to keep raising money to prevent forest fires. She greatly cared about the wilderness." His voice was filled with melodramatic sadness.
"Why don't you let me turn that frown upside down? I'll make you forget all about it." The woman purred as she pulled seductively at Mitch's lapels. As the founder and owner of Three Crosses Rehabilitation Center, Mitch was one of the most eligible bachelors in the state. His generosity was legendary. No matter how small or strange the cause championed by local residents, Mitch always donated or lined up a celebrity to help support it. And the armored Mercedes G55 AMG, parked in valet, always attracted attention from the single ladies.
"My, that is a tempting offer." Mitch gently brushed her hands from his tuxedo jacket. "But you know my policy. Mine is a lonely burden to carry."
"Awww." The stunning blond pouted, pursing her ruby red lips. "One of these days you'll give in and I'll be waiting." She flipped her styled hair over her shoulder and turned to leave.
Mitch kissed her hand lightly. "Well, if I do fall off the wagon, I hope I land on you." She smiled graciously, then headed off to hit on the next most eligible bachelor at the black tie event. Mitch's eyes were glued to her swaying hips, and carnal desires rose deep within him. "Later," Mitch muttered under his breath. He only needed to stay a few more minutes before he could head back to his home in the East Wing of the rehab center.
Tonight he would likely take a detour through the sex addict wing. A heavenly, Hollywood starlet had checked in just the night before. Listening to her confessions made his jaw drop and aroused him in a way he hadn't known in a long time.
Mitch secretly taped each and every conversation a patient had with their attending psychologist. No matter how obscure the person currently was, there was always the potential that they would eventually become someone powerful. Those patients who were already important or famous, Mitch paid special attention to. Their confessions were often astonishing. He had a dossier on many world, national and state figures, including many in law enforcement. Whenever he felt threatened, Mitch could blackmail any number of high ranking officials and take care of the problem. He was constantly amazed at how comfortable people were when talking to their psychologists. The illusion of trust and confidentiality made them especially vulnerable.
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