New York City
Thin lips puffed on the dark brown wrapper of a Cuban cigar, the dark grey ash falling from the opposite end. Those lips twisted into a smile as they looked down, surveying the whole of city that he practically owned.
...and he saw that it was good.
A string of hostile takeovers ranging from the Dawson Corporation to Paragon Industries to the TriVex Corportation to a struggling Mandelovian enterprise called MalvanX had placed him in a class all his own. His long blonde hair combed into a tight slick look on his slightly tanned head... it was enough for him, now the richest man on earth, to be named the World's Most Eligible Bachelor. He truly had everything going for him...
Moving away from the window, he ran a three-fingered hand over his desk of solid mahogany. His other hand ran down the fabric of his three-piece silk suit. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his solid gold pocket watch, opening it.
5:00 pm on the nose.
As if on cue, a soft feminine voice came over the intercom atop his desk. "Mr. Montag," the voice chimed, "Inga and Rhiannon are here for your five o'clock massage..."
Taking another drag off of his cigar, Grissom Montag's lips once again folded into a smile. "Send them in, Miss Tegan."
Moments later, the door to his office opened and two young women - a voluptuous blonde and a curvaceous Nubian - entered his office dressed in tight one-piece massuse uniforms, the skirts of which crawled well up their thighs.
Slipping off his suit jacket and tossing it onto his office chair, Grissom smiled. "Well, ladies... shall we get this started?"
The women smiled seductively as they slowly began to unbutton their uniforms.
Yes... Montag thought. Life is good...
