Ryan's POV
Most people often did their best to avoid places that were responsible for them suffering a misfortune. But Ryan, being the succor for punishment that he was. Was once again, back at the bar where he had first met( and had sex with Vivian).
'It is my bar, I cannot avoid my own establishment.' He had reasoned with himself, but now he was regretting that decision. Instead of enjoying his drink, he was instead staring into the whiskey, having not touched even a single drop of it.
"Why are you moping?" Mark's voice came from his right, and Ryan turned to look at his friend,
"I am not moping, I am just thinking," His friend did not seem to believe him, and rightfully so, Ryan was not being honest.
"Is it your dick? Can't you get it up anymore?!" Having been mid sip, Ryan choked. Turning to his friend, he glared at him as he thumped his chest.
What sort of insane question was that?! Taking Ryan's reaction as an answer, Mark nodded,
"Good. At least you are healthy in that department. If your answer had been no, it would have been a pain to not only look for a specialist, but to actually get you to go see them,"
"Can we please drop this conversation?" Ryan asked after successfully clearing his throat.
Flicking at his glass with his finger, Mark shrugged, "Fine, I will drop the whole dick issue, but what is going on? Is someone out there trying to pin a baby on you," Ryan sighed, his shoulder slumping,
"Mark, stop trying to guess what is up with me, you are making my head hurt," Sipping at his drink, Mark bumped their shoulders together.
"Fine, then, I will stop guessing, but only if you tell me what is wrong,"
***
While looking down at the counter, Ryan picked up his glass and took a sip. Placing it back down on the coaster, he looked at his friend and weighed his options. If he were to tell Mark that he had slept with a woman who had pussy so good, he was worried it had ruined him for others. Mark would probably die of laughter, so in an effort to save his friend's life. And also Ryan's own pride, he decided to come up with a story on the spot.
"A little while back, I had the most amazing canapé that I have ever tasted at an event. Now, others do not taste the same. Nothing can compare to it,"
By the end of his explanation, Mark was giving him an incredulous look, and Ryan did not blame him. His excuse was awful.
But as bad as it was, it seemed that he had been convincing in delivering the lie because Mark did not immediately start attacking the weak story. Instead, he tilted his head to the side. The expression on his face, saying that he was seriously considering the matter.
"Ryan Terrell, you mean to tell me you are this bent out of shape over some food?"
Thinking about how amazing Vivian's pussy had been, Ryan did not waste any time nodding at his friend.
"Of course, it was the best canapé I have ever had, so it is only right that I feel torn up over not being able to taste it again," There was a moment where Mark just stared at Ryan, then the other man picked up his alcohol and took a gulp. Looking over at Ryan he gave a slow blink.
"I cannot believe I have to say this. Ryan, we are rich. Just have whoever it is that made those canapés make them for you and pay them for their services,"
Ryan inhaled deeply, before releasing the breath slowly, "I have already tried looking. I cannot find that particular chef, and I am not interested in the food of other chefs,"
This time, Mark actually hit his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"Ryan, once again, you are rich. If you cannot find the chef who made that canapé, hire a PI, have them track the person down, and once they are found, you can enjoy their canapés again,"
Staring at his friend, Ryan, wanted to get up and hug the other man. Have someone find her for him, splendid! Resolving to buy Mark something spectacular for his birthday, Ryan finished off his drink before addressing the other man.
"Thank you for the suggestion, but I will not be doing something so insane. If I am meant to taste the chef's food, then I will surely cross paths with them again. If not, then that will be that. I will only have the memory of my canapé," It was a miracle that his nose did not start growing from his blatant lie. Flipping Ryan off, Mark turned to his drink, unaware that despite his relaxed attitude, Ryan's mind was racing.
***
Despite having dismissed his friend's suggestion. The very first thing that Ryan did the moment he was alone was use his phone to call a PI that he sometimes used. The conversation was brief, with him sharing all the details about Vivian that he could remember. Even going as far as to offer a description of her face.
By the time that the call ended, Ryan was feeling hopeful for the first time in a really long time. Once the PI found Vivian, he would proposition her, sample her goods one more time. Reassure himself that he had only gotten addicted because she had been a novelty, and then their business together would be well and truly concluded.
After that, he would be able to wank without having her be the star of the show.
At peace with the decision that he had taken, Ryan had the first good rest that he'd had in many days. What he did not know was that while he slept, the very PI that he had hired was already hard at work.
The other man doing his job diligently despite not knowing why a billionaire was looking for a preschool teacher whom the man had admitted was not even his mistress, or a long-lost family member. Deciding that it was a 'rich people' thing, the PI resolved to mind his business and just do his job.