Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Emma calculates in her head, her plush pout pursing as she thinks.
“Too many,” she says in a mock-doleful voice. “Way, way too many.”
I squint a little.
“Okay, and it’s for that medical school admission test, right?”
“Yes,” she confirms, looking a little despondent. “I’m so behind too! I’m seriously freaking out, Logan. If I don’t pass this thing ... ugh,” she shudders, those big breasts vibrating. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
I shake my head while taking her small hand in my big one.
“But can you join a study group? Would that help? I know you’re here for hours every day, with your nose in the books, sweetheart. It must be isolating, and maybe you could hook up with some other pre-med kids who are also studying their asses off.”
Emma laughs, the tinkling sound light and melodious in the air.
“Oh Logan,” she says with an exasperated smile. “You don’t understand pre-med at all, do you? These so-called “kids” are like sharks. They actively try to sabotage one another, and the competition is so fierce that it can get bloody. Literally, at the library last year two pre-med kids had a fight over who was going to get to sit at an open desk. It was crazy.”
I shake my head.
“Goddamn. And there’s no money in medicine either.”
“Hey, what are you saying?” Emma protests with a smile. “There’s good money in my field! Maybe not like what you have, but doctors can make a nice living for themselves. We can even support families,” she adds.
“Yeah, sorry,” I grunt. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were poor, or anything like that. Not that there’s anything wrong with being poor because that’s just how some sectors are. For example, if you worked for a non-profit, you’d never get rich, and that’s a lifestyle choice those folks make.”
“Yes, and they sacrifice a lot in order to improve others’ lives,” Emma says in a serious tone. “I find that really inspiring.”
“Me too, but that life’s not for me,” I say in a light tone. “I’m too much of a jackass, and I like money too much as well. Give me my creature comforts, and I’ll be a happy man. But again, back to you, sweetheart. Why are the other pre-med kids so fucking awful? I’d think they’d need basic social skills to be a doctor, so that bodes ill for their futures.”
“Yes, definitely,” Emma acknowledges with a smile. “But a lot of these folks aren’t even looking to work with patients.”
I stare at her, nonplussed.
”Really?”
“Yeah, some of them have their eyes focused on research, and so being congenial and having social skills isn’t so crucial. There’s a little more leeway when you work in a lab among colleagues, as opposed to seeing patients.”
“Right, and we talked about this before,” I growl. “Sorry, I forgot. There are physicians who don’t see sick people.”
“Yes, exactly,” Emma responds with a smile. “Just think of Anthony Fauci, or the Surgeon General. They’re both doctors, but they don’t necessarily see patients. Instead, they’re in public health, and their contribution is much valued. But what about you, Logan?” she asks quickly. “You know so much about me and what I do outside of the club, which I hardly ever discuss, actually. Fair is fair. Now, you need to share about your private life,” Emma says with an inviting smile.
I pause because I understand what she’s saying. Club Z exists in a universe of its own, and it’s very common for patrons to keep their personal business separate. Hell, some of the billionaire assholes I see at the bar have wives at home, but you wouldn’t know it from the way they act. I guess that’s the point, and why they pay the high fees – for the discretion, freedom, and utter assholery they engage in.
But I have nothing to hide, and so I shrug and grin.
“I’m Logan Blackshaw. Would it be arrogant if I said, ‘google me’?”
Fortunately, Emma has a sense of humor and giggles, making her big breasts shake.
“It would be rude!” she laughs. “We’ve been together for a month now. But I’ll be sure to give you a good google once you’re out of sight,” she teases.
I smile because actually, we’re in my bedroom at the moment. I have a naked girl on my mattress, her big breasts just visible beneath the white sheet and I definitely don’t want her to get on the computer. Hell, I don’t want this woman to spend time on-line looking me up when I’m right here, with all the answers. So I decide to provide a quick summary of my life.
“I’m a crypto guy,” I say. “But one of the good ones, I promise. I help people recover lost crypto because there’s so much goddamn theft in the community.”
Emma’s blue eyes go wide.
“Are you serious?”