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citricoslarubia > The Manhattanites: Unscrupulous > Part 2
"You work too much."

"And you f.u.c.k around too much." Warner took another swig and asked, "And what circuit party is on your calendar for the thirty-first?"

"The babes and I are jettin' to Algarve, Portugal. Invite's open if you change your mind."

A reluctant male model, pre-body-ink era, Sheldon's glamour funds hadn't run out yet, but were getting close. Similar to Warner, Sheldon was tall, handsome and striking even at a young age. He'd caught a Vogue Hommes International fas.h.i.+on photographer's attention in Milan and his jet-set life soared. A few years later he had returned to the United States and had mooched here and there ever since. Warner tried to get Sheldon to come work with him at Truman Enterprises, but Truman Tribeca, which wasn't meant to be a test but was, failed him. Warner figured his brother would screw around until his ever-in-demand f.u.c.k-stick fell off. He hoped it would be in Algarve, Portugal.

"Thanks, I should get going. Don't forget to buy Mom and Dad a Christmas gift. You forgot last year." They spoke their goodbyes, and he went for the elevator.

In the lobby, the doorman approached. "Mr. Truman, I have a package for you."

"Morning, Sam." He spotted the flowers at the concierge desk. "Again?"

"The florist dropped this arrangement off about thirty minutes ago." Sam knew Rielle wasn't permitted anywhere near the building. Her restraining order prohibited her from all contact, which included sending flowers. This was the third arrangement this week. A silver-mirrored vase enclosed snowy-white hydrangea, blood-red roses and lilies. He reached for the card in Sam's hand. The note read, "Warner, baby, I miss you. Let's spend the holidays together. All my love, Rielle." A few months ago, he might have felt nauseous reading this card. This morning, he felt nothing. "Re-gift these to your family." He pushed the flowers back upon his doorman and tore the card up.

"Mr. Truman, rejecting gifts is bad luck on your part. You should accept-"

"Throw the flowers away then, Sam." He didn't regret his orders. Although Sam's facial reaction made him question himself.

"Okay, okay, I'll give them to the missus." Sam backed down. "My wife sends her best, and thank you again for the generous holiday bonus. You've helped put my oldest through City College."

"My pleasure, enjoy your day." Warner stepped out in the minus-ten degrees and then into his waiting limo.

Chapter Two.

Thank You, Brigham Young University, for Kiki Times Square, New York, NY "Sweet Jesus b.a.l.l.s of justice. Look at those nuts. Dang!" Taddy Brill sat in her Herman Miller chair with Viveca Farnworth to her right and Blake Morgan III to her left. Careful not to smudge her eye makeup, she gripped the binoculars. Squinting out Brill, Inc.'s forty-fourth-floor windows across the street at the new high-rise, Taddy saw into someone's hotel room window. A man in full view was shaving his b.a.l.l.s. One leg up on the sin

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