Without a ban

Arthur

I didn’t think our meeting would end like this. I really am an idiot. How could I say those words to her? I was confirming my mother’s words to Alexa. But running after her now would be stupid. She would just send me away. And she’d be absolutely right. So I’ll give her time to cool off. I wonder what she writes about. She’s a real partisan, not even talking about the fact that she’s been writing a novel for several years. I’ll start reading it tomorrow. What about today? What should I do? The evening is ruined, and I myself am to blame. I have one option. Or rather, a girl in mind who’d love to spend time with me.

“Hi, Olivia, how are you?” I asked the girl I had just called. My ex-girlfriend, who I had dumped and flown away on another long-term business trip.

“Arthur? I can’t believe you’re back.”

“Yeah, you made a totally valid point. How have you been? What are you doing today?”

“I’m fine. I haven’t made any plans.”

“That’s very good, and I’d like to see you now. In about two hours. How would you feel about that?”

” Arthur, I’d love to, but I can’t. Especially since my new boyfriend won’t like it. A lot of things have changed in my life while you’ve been away. And I know yours has, Emma told me all about it. And you still think you can call me anytime and I’ll run to you? No, not anymore. You’re selfish, Arthur, and that says it all.”

“Olivia, I hadn’t even thought of that. What is it?”

“Nothing, Arthur. I’m fine, and don’t ever call me again,” she yelled into the phone and hung up.

Yeah, it’s like I’m just a nuisance to everyone. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back.

Well, then tonight I’ll spend the evening alone. With Alexa’s made-up love story. I wonder what she’s writing about. What is the storyline of the novel about? And has she experienced all the emotions and feelings she describes?

Okay, I’ll find out about all of this only after I read it. And now, in the car and driving home drunk. I drank another glass of wine, which I had ordered after Alexa left. And there was not a small amount to drink.

Alexa

I didn’t expect this from Arthur. What did I want, since all men are the same? I woke up early this morning with these thoughts in mind. Today I had an interview scheduled with a well-known philanthropist, who had set up a foundation to help immigrants from all over the world. After the interview, as usual, the usual scheme – a restaurant, a nightclub, and of course a room – a suite, a large double bed with a Jacuzzi. I’m sick of it all. I think that my way of life, my frequent changes of partners will not lead to serious relationship, but I do not want more. I was married before and that is not a good pleasure. For someone it is important to create a family, to live in love and such nonsense, but not for me.

I don’t know what love is, I don’t think my principles and outlook on life will help me open up to that feeling. I am not the kind of woman who will suffer. I would rather make men run after me, worship me, fall at my feet, but never the other way around. I am cruel, but that’s the way it is.

Twelve o’clock in the afternoon. An interview with Alessandro Romis, organizer of the charitable foundation Abbiamo tutti lo stesso sangue, which helps all displaced people and refugees from all over the world. But the question arises. Why is it that the displaced person himself, is also the organizer of this foundation? So now I’m going to go into the office and find out.

” Hello, Alexa Neves.”

“Hello, Alessandro. Do you know me?”

“Who knows you? You’re very popular in this town. Have a seat,” he pointed me to the chair in front of him.

“That’s very kind of you.”

“And my assistant was right when he said you were a goddess. And he wasn’t lying. You really are good.”

“Thank you very much, but I didn’t come here to listen to your compliments, but to interview you for a future article for our magazine.”ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“So I’ve heard. Your publication is almost one of the best in New York and I’m honored.”

“Let’s get down to it.”

“I’m listening attentively,” he answered, while he continued to burn me with his gaze, which was directed to the cleavage area.

“First question, Mr. Romis:”

“What is your definition of charity?”

“It’s a very simple question, but it also has its own complexity. Philanthropy, in terminology, is helping, unselfishly. But for me it’s a much more important process. It comes from the heart, from the soul.”

“I see, but still. Why are you so sick about this issue? Is it related to your past or the past of your family and friends?”

“Of course, and you picked up on that right away. I’m Italian. But sometimes circumstances are such that you have to change your life. I had a good aristocratic family, we had huge capitals, but when my grandfather died suddenly, before he made his will, a war broke out between my father and his brother-in-law, my own uncle. My uncle was the head of a bandit group. So the outcome is known, he locked my family in the house, I was also there. And he set fire to it. When the firemen came, they managed to save only me. I had a third of my skin burnt, but it wasn’t so painful for me that I didn’t feel physical pain at that point. And the mental pain, the loss of my parents and older sister, was a big blow to me. I was nine years old at the time. Of course, to keep me from claiming my inheritance, my uncle became my guardian. He abused me, beat me, and one day I ran away from him.”