UNPROVEN Chapter Three "The Seasonal Girls"

If you're loved by someone, you're never rejected, decide what to be and GO BE IT
-The Avett brothers

Recommend Reading Introduction to Unproven

DEFINITELY READ Prologue

Chapter One
Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Grayson pushed through the double front doors of his estate and nodded to the doorman, oblivious of the surroundings that shouted out the wealth of his life as he strode through the foyer and hung a right toward his father’s study. Even if he didn’t take his privileged life for granted, the pain and tension in his lower region was consuming too much of his focus for him to dwell on anything else at present. When he reached the tall oak doors he stood there for a moment listening to the muffled hum of his father’s voice. He was on a business call, as usual, but unlike most teenagers this fact didn’t inspire resentment or rebellion. There wasn’t a sire on the planet more actively involved in the betterment of their offspring’s life, which would naturally revolve around monetary gain. His lip curved slightly as he opened the doors and strode in, dropping into a black leather armchair.

He waited while the great James Teller finished the call, breathing in the scent of the room and musing that the familiar smell of leather and cigars was better than any incense sold on the market.
His father ended the call and swiveled his chair to face him, his sculpted brow rising slightly. “Grayson. What’s up?”

He lifted one shoulder briefly. “Not much.”
His father regarded him for a moment, the piercing blue eyes that his son had inherited narrowing slightly. “What is it? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I'm good.”

“How did you do on the mat today?”

He flashed a grin, “Trounced ‘em all.”

James leaned back in his chair with a smile of approval that faded as he studied his son more closely. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Grayson glanced away, a shadow passing over his face. “You know how it becomes almost like background noise? A dull roaring in your head you learn to tune out?”

James nodded, waiting.

“Yeah well, lately I haven’t been doing so good with the tuning out.”

His father frowned. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
Grayson heaved a breath and dropped his head in his hands.
“It’s taking less time.”

“We’ve discussed this,” James replied calmly.

Grayson looked up, meeting the steely gaze steadily. “I just think a mistress would make more sense.”

“No Grayson. You know the purpose of the system we devised for you, and if you take the easy way out you’ll be in danger of becoming soft. You have the professional escorts six times a month and if you need more it’s on you.”

Grayson gritted his teeth and got to his feet, angrily pacing across the floor. He felt a familiar rush of fury and stifled it, determined not to lose control in front of his father.

James sighed. “Ever since we began your lessons about this world and how it, and its people, truly work; you haven’t given me a moment’s doubt about your character, demonstrating an acute intelligence along with an iron control, you've been a credit to your bloodline. In time you will be one of the most powerful men on the planet, a position I feel you are earning.” He looked at his son pointedly. “I’ve been so proud, don’t let me down now.”

Grayson stopped pacing and braced his hands on the wall, pulling himself together with greater effort than it usually took. After a moment he turned back to his father and nodded wordlessly. He pushed off the wall and left the study, jogging to the winding stairs that led to his wing of the house, the buzz in his brain like a hive of bees he’d seriously pissed off. When he got to his suite he paced the five-hundred square feet that comprised his bedroom area, fighting to regain control of his emotions.

When he was reasonably calmer he flopped down on his California King and stared up at the intricately carved mahogany ceiling. His father was right of course, a mistress would make things too easy. He needed another Seasonal girl, there was no getting around it. But it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been looking, there just wasn’t a single female in his scope that appealed to him lately.

His father had devised the three-month system of what he now thought of as his Seasonal Girls, as a device to further his training in the art of manipulation by learning the way different people-in this case females-viewed the world, then turning that view upside down. Sex was a large part of the process because physical intimacy was the fastest way to gain the upper hand, particularly when the emotional investment was all one-sided. For him sex was nothing more than fucking, he was only engaged when he was sliding in and out. Once spent, he felt nothing more than physical relief quickly followed by indifference and occasionally a vague sense of disgust, and if it weren’t for the chemical they provided that his body needed it wouldn’t be a whole lot different from using blowup dolls. Except blowup dolls wouldn’t require him to act as if he cared.

He shut his eyes as a dull pain throbbed behind them. Once upon a time he’d enjoyed the challenge, but ever since the whole Carrie debacle earlier in the year the thought of it was exhausting. He’d crucified the treacherous slut, but somehow the experience had altered things for him. He’d explained this to his father who had assured him that it was a positive thing, a milestone he’d reached in learning just how superficial human emotion truly was. He’d thought he already understood, but he’d had to accept that some small part of him must have hoped…He shook his head to clear it before the anger boiled, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth against another painful jab to his extremities.

Another seasonal girl, he thought resignedly, a summer fling. He flipped through his inner files trying to come up with someone, his mind landing on the girl he’d seen by the stop sign today; Andie. A couple of months ago they had run into one another at a street fair and after a few hours of bantering, and several strawberry daiquiris, they’d made out on the pier. He’d later chosen to pretend the incident had never happened. She was attractive enough; long legs, nice ass, pretty face; but the thought of learning the ins and outs of who she was and breaking them down had seemed tedious. So no, not her.

He squeezed his eyes even tighter and rubbed his temples as he tried to ignore the painful pulsing in his groin. Fatigue crept up on him and he decided he’d worry about the girlfriend hunting tomorrow, make a list of potentials….echh. Tomorrow.

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