Time is not my friend. With every tick of the clock, my options wane. Winning a lunch meeting with the CEO was supposed to be the answer to all of my problems. After all, Nixon Ballard is known for taking a bit of money and turning it into a lot. But his easy dismissal of my financial struggle took would I hoped would be a quick solution and turned it into my only option. An option to provide for those who matter most. An option that lays everything on the line. This was meant to be a sacrifice, but quickly became the escape I really need.
The old adage is true… time is money. Which makes it one of my most precious commodities. Starting my company ten years ago, I quickly understood that success is garnered from milking every moment of the one thousand four hundred and forty minutes each day has to offer. Every meeting, conference call, and agenda item is carefully orchestrated like an elaborate meal. Each course perfectly timed and curated, building to the grand dessert – my weekly scheduled evening with a hired beauty.
Ninety minutes with no expectations, other than mutual pleasure. Ninety minutes where no one knows who I am.
Today was meant to be the same. Until it wasn’t.
Until Natalie.
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