I take a swig of my third bottle of champagne. I’m about as drunk as it gets, though I’m sure I could do far more before I was to black out. That has never been my style though. I drink just enough to make everything a little fuzzy and a lot happier. Cigarettes are my comfort, drinking my companion. Someone who I don’t know interrupts my conversation with myself, “Megan your father is here.”

I nod at the woman and gather my things up. I struggle to find my balance between the alcohol and four inch heels that I’m balancing on. Beauty is pain. I take a deep breath, straiten my barely there dress and walk out of my old bedroom and down the marble stairs to the party. I can see daddy standing there among the rich and famous, getting his ass kissed for no other reason than he owns them. All of them.

My father, the Caltech Humanities and Science major ironically used his degree to get his foot in the door to a huge law firm, Hanson & Currie. Tom Hanson, the socialite whore of the business and then there is my father, Daniel Currie. Not only does daddy have his business, but he also owns the record company named after him, Currie records. I’m really not sure as to which circumstance there might be a celebration but I learned to stop asking a long time ago.

I smile as I enter the room filled with people. My father looks over and holds his hand out to me and I place mine in his as he pulls me over to him, “And you remember my daughter Megan.”

I look the man over and have absolutely no idea who this guy is. Not that it surprises me, they all look the same to me. Armani suit, Rolex watch, gray hair and a wandering eye.

The man turns to me, “Yes how are you Megan?”

“Fine,” I lie. Telling anyone the truth has become a distant memory. I don’t even bother to hesitate. For fucking sake I lie about things I don’t even give a damn about. Things that don’t even matter.

“I heard that you are running your own art gallery.”

I nod, “Yeah, it’s going well.”

“And I heard your brother is helping you run it?”

I smirk, “He does all the numbers for me. He went to Caltech for mathematics so I out him to use. Though he is in California right now so I’m on my own for the next few weeks.”

The man looks to my father, “Impressive. Your son has followed in your footsteps.”

Dad laughs, “Yes he did. I wanted Megan to go there as well but she was insistent that NYU was her calling. She likes to dabble in art and painting. It’s her little hobbie.”

Yeah, that’s it. A little hobby. Because all that time I spent killing myself at that school to improve on my work was only a little hobby.

“Nothing wrong with that,” the man says.

“No there’s not,” dad remarks, obviously seeing he’s not going to win this battle, “Megan sweetheart why don’t you go greet some of the other guests.”

“Nice seeing you again,” I say, making my way to the people that are actual in my age range. The music pounds and I put my hand on Adam’s shoulder, “Hey.”

Adam turns around, “Hey, we were just talking about you.”

I push my shoulders back, making sure I’m showing everything off, “I hope it’s all good.”

One of the guys standing around leans in and kisses me, “Only good things.”

I giggle slightly and lick my lips, “That’s good to know.”

I’m instantly surrounded by a group of guys who have done far little than to have been born into privilege. Some, I’ll give then have been a success without their parents and some are legitimate artists who are in the midst of recording. But they all want one thing from me. Two very different sets of men with the same goal. The first group want to see if all those rumors are true and the second are those who already know and want more. Sex is the bottom line.

Adam pushes me through the people to outside the house and up against the shingles. It’s not the most comfortable place to be grinded against but I’ve had worse. He spreads my legs open and places his hand up my dress and rests it on my thigh, rubbing it. I just roll with it until a voice causes both Adam and I to jump, “She’s not yours tonight.”

I remain emotionless as Adam pulls away from me and turns around, “Do you fucking mind?”

Justin doesn’t even make eye contact with him rather choosing to stare at me, “Yeah I do so why don’t you just get out of here.”

I give Adam a push, “Call me later. We’ll set something up and make it work around my schedule.”

He sighs and removes his hand, “Fine, I’ll see you later,” he responds, sulking off into the shadows and back into the house. Justin walks over to me and kisses me roughly, picking me up off my feet before wrapping them around his waist, “Did you forget about me?”

I lean back against the house instead of hanging on him the way most women do. I refuse to be needy around him. He just takes it as a compliment, “No.”

He licks his lips, “Than what was with him?”

I shrug, “I was keeping myself occupied.”

“I thought that was what I was for. Isn’t tonight when you scheduled me in?” he mocks, setting me back on the ground.

“If you don’t like it leave. I’m positive I could find some else to take your spot for tonight,” I reply, leaning over to whisper in his ear although I know no one else is around to hear, “I keep a waiting list you know.”

“Am I at the top?”

“Maybe,” I reply coolly, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from my garter. I found it’s better than having a purse because I occasionally have a nicotine craving but when I get them, they’re bad. I find I need them more when he’s around than other guys I’ve been with in the past.

I watch him make a disgusted face at the incessant tapping of the pack until one little piece of sanity falls out and I light up, blowing smoke in his face, “Get over it.”

His lip turns up a little and I assume that means he’s rethinking tonight. I go through the guys here in my head as to who would be the second best fuck here tonight, Adam or Spencer, the new bad boy to enter our little bubble. I’m amazed but try not to convey it though my face as Justin grabs my hand and drags me to his car, practically throwing me into the passenger side.

I lean back as my head hits the back of the seat. I breathe in the scent of leather and look around to see if it’s a new car on never used. The must have over a dozen vehicles because as long as we have been “entertaining” each other I have never ridden in one of his cars twice. It makes it a real pain in the ass to know whether he’s at the same club or party as I am because of it. I like to know what I’m walking into before I step through the doorway.

Justin flips the air conditioner on and the breeze blows my blonde hair back. We sit in silence until he pulls into his driveway and we go inside his house. I look around at inside as it still has that barely lived in feel to it. Justin turns to me, “You want a drink first?”

I slip my heels off, tossing them to the side, “I’m a sure thing, you don’t need to do the whole seduction bit.”

He sighs, going into his liquor cabinet and producing a bottle of vodka, “Suit yourself.”

I watch him ignore me as he stares out the French doors to a lot of nothing. No neighbors or a trace of humanity for about a mile. That’s the way he likes it, secluded. I hate it when he’s got me standing there and he spaces off. It doesn’t work like that in my world.

I unzip the side of my dress and step out of it, kicking it to the side. I watch him watch me in the reflection of the window mesmerized. I smirk and walk over to him, aggressively tugging the jeans from his hips along with his boxers. He looks back to me in appreciation and puts the bottle down, unclasping my bra. I rip the buttons off his shirt as the go flying in every direction and slide my hands down his bear chest, “Did you miss me?”

“You know I did. Why do you bother to ask?”

I hook my fingers along the sides of my panties and push them off my body, “Let’s do this.”

He grabs the back of my head and pulls it to his, covering my mouth with his. I pull away and back up to his dining room table, devilishly hoping up on it, spreading my legs. It’s my signature move that has become my calling card, “What are you waiting for?”

________________________________________________________________________

I wake up on his bedroom floor and rub my eyes, scanning the room for some sort clock that will tell me how late I am getting up. I find the clock and realize I should have been out the door an hour ago but money talks and I know my ride will still be there when I get out. I go downstairs leaving Justin in his bedroom to sleep off last night and find my clothes, putting them on.

I search for my garter and find it flung onto the floor and slip it on. A voice interrupts the silence, “Have fun?”

I turn around to see Trace in the doorway grinning at me like the Cheshire Cat. I smile as I pull down my dress, “Yeah I did.”

“Live it up baby, it won’t last forever.”

I ruffle my hair a little as I fix it in the mirror, “That’s my motto.”

“Justin upstairs?” he questions, drinking the orange juice in his hand.

“He’s sleeping. Tell him I said goodbye.”

“Will do.”

I pull on my heels and lean over, kissing Trace on the mouth, “Call me for a good time.”

“Jenny, what number should I use? 867-5309?”

I turn around and smile, “Ask Justin.”

With that, I walk out the door and to my awaiting taxi.

________________________________________________________________________

I wake up to find her missing body next to me. I sigh and roll over onto my back in frustration. Not that I had any expectations that she would still be here but just the disappointment that she’s not can set off my whole day. I get up and pull on some clothes, heading downstairs to find Trace sitting at the kitchen table, “Morning.”

“Hey, heard you had fun last night.”

I turn to him, “What makes you say that?”

He lets a smile creep on to his face, “I saw the sex kitten as she was leaving this morning.”

I look at him, “You saw Meg?”

Trace nods, “Yeah, she’s a firecracker that one.”

“Did she say anything about me?”

Trace thinks about it for a minute, “Just to tell you goodbye.”

I nod slowly and sit down across from him. He hands me the sports section of the paper, “Here read this. I don’t know what you expect from Megan Currie. She screws like a guy.”

I shrug and take the paper, “I don’t know. I just thought maybe she would have stuck around this morning.”

Trace chuckles, “Again, it’s Megan Currie. She does her thing and moves on. That’s why guys like her. No commitment on either end.”

“There is a human being under there somewhere. She has her moments.”

Trace rolls his eyes, “Well you are the only one who sees it because the rest of us are just waiting for our number to be called to get her on her back.”

I toss the paper to the side, “She’d have you on your back and done with you before you realized what was going on.”

He laughs, “You think so huh?”

“I know so.”