Chapter Two – Gordon
Seeing my office brought me peace after a hectic morning. Meetings, it was meetings all morning, and an impending sense of doom loomed over my top employees and board of directors. They all looked at me, scanning my face, wondering if I was going to lose everything.
“Finally, peace and quiet all to myself. Maybe I’m used to getting lonely…” I said to myself while I made my way behind my desk.
I managed not saying anything about the situation to anyone and that alone helped my stress levels. Reclining in my custom-made leather chair, I reached under my desk to pour myself a small shot of whiskey. There were no more meetings for the day, and I was thankful as hell.
I gulped down the spicy brown tincture and basked in the sting on the back of my throat as it crept down. I was calm in the midst of a storm. I had to be. I owned this damn place and placed serious blood into it to make it work. Even the amounts of pussy I turned down for the benefit of the company was hilarious.
My door flung open, and in rushed Richard, my friend of twenty years. He was frowning and stopped at the rim of my desk to glare down onto me.
“Hey, Gordon! Aren’t you busy looking for a wife?” he asked, bending over to further scold me of my relaxed composure. What was I going to do? Run around like a chicken with my head cut off?
“Richard…want to explain why you didn’t knock?” I asked, to dodge his question. I smirked and rocked back into my chair. The comforting smell of whiskey still wafted into the air. And that pleasant tingle was still there.
“Knocking is for when there isn’t an emergency. Did you check your calendar or what?”
“What are you rambling about?” I poured another shot and drank it down. Richard took a step back, and puffed a sigh of disbelief. His clothes even looked disheveled.
“You need a wife! Did you forget? You need to get married soon or else everything you worked for will go up in smoke. Silent smoke. This will be a stealth kill to all your hard work,” Richard cried, flinging his arms out. He threw himself down into one of the seats in front of my desk and placed an elbow onto the rim of my cherry oak desk.
“Richard, you’re more concerned about this than I am,” I pointed out.
“Because, I’m your friend. Someone’s gotta watch over you until you get hitched.” He leaned back and crossed his legs. He was going to throw me out of my office and out onto the street, so I could pick the first woman I saw and marry her.
“I appreciate it. But I’m fine. What will happen will happen,” I said, swirling the small remanence of whiskey in my shot glass. The golden colors looked brilliant when subtle rays of sunlight hit it.
“And what does that mean?” Richard’s tone of voice dropped down to a sound of hope lost. I didn’t give up, I only had to keep calm. But it was still the truth.
“You don’t rush love, Richard. It’s a natural phase—”
Richard laughed, “Natural my ass. You can manufacture a wife. Then while you keep your end of the deal, you can go out and look for real love. See? Problem solved.” He folded his arms and smiled as if he had fixed everything.
“No, problem not solved. I’m not going to go through the trouble of getting married and divorced then married again. That’s nothing but a mess and chaos waiting to happen.” I turned my chair around to glance over the skyline of the city. I was on the twentieth floor and my windows were from the floor to ceiling, giving me a flawless view of everything.
It’d be wonderful to get the right woman by my side to enjoy this.
“Gordon, if you don’t get married…”
I waved my hand and shook my head. “Stop worrying, I’ll be fine.”
“Sometimes I wonder, do you even want all of this? This company? This lifestyle?”
“Of course I do. Richard, calm down.” Richard dropped his shoulders and looked down.
“Damn, man. You really worry me sometimes,” he said, pinching his eyebrows and frowning.
“I can see that. Would you like a whiskey?” I reached for another shot glass and held it to him. He looked at it and sighed.
“Nah, I’m good. Promised my wife I’d take her to that new bar that opened in the east end. Doubt their stuff will be as good as the liquor out of you stash.” He dragged himself out of the chair and to his feet. His phone vibrated in his pants pocket and rung. Digging it out, he looked at the number and his eyes lit up. I knew who it was.
“Oh? Speak of the angel, that’s her right now. Hey, Gordon, I’m gonna go now. Try to make an effort to keep yourself, okay?” He swiped his phone to accept the call and waved.
“Sure.”
“You’re really convincing sometimes, you know?” he joked, turning around and diving into conversation with his wife. “Hey, babe. Yeah… You’re wearing what?” He vanished through the door and I was left with that feeling again.
That feeling of want. I wanted that too. Someone I could protect and love. Someone that I could also sink my cock into on a daily basis. Sex, I miss it. I hadn’t had a release in a while and was damn near desperate for that.
The phone on my table trembled as it rung. I looked at the caller ID and noticed that it wasn’t marked with a name.
“Hm? That number… vaguely familiar.” I picked it up and answered, “Hello, Gordon Glen speaking.”
“Hello, Gordon darling. It’s Eliza, been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Ah, Eliza Rousseau. How are you?” he asked with a bright vibrancy in his voice.
“Good. I have good news for you. I believe I have found you a match.”
“Really?” I leaned back in my chair again. Curious as to what she had planned. Eliza Rousseau was the best when it came to pairing people up. That was why I went to her…six months ago. I thought she wouldn’t be able to find a match. But hell, even if this woman isn’t the one, at least I could get a few fucks out of it. No strings. Just to keep it simple and clean.
“Yes, come down here at eight o’ clock sharp. She’s dashing and can’t wait to meet you.”
“Does she know my name?” Anyone would be happy to meet me, Gordon Glen.
“No darling. That’s against protocol until you meet her. This is like a blind date—but fancier.”
“Intriguing. What’s her name?”
“Against protocol my darling,” she reminded me. My cock tingled with anticipation. All this recent stress needed to be released before I went off to find a wife. Maybe blowing a few loads would give me a clear head. Then maybe I would be in the right mind frame to look for a wife, build a family and keep all that I worked for.
Or maybe… this would be my match. Nevertheless, I had everything to gain by going.
“You play tough, Ms. Rousseau.”
“I get paid well to do it too. You didn’t think I forgot about your endeavors in love, did you?”
“Of course not. I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful, I’ll see you then.”
I hung up and got up from my seat, stretching and looking at the sun, getting ready to set. It painted brilliant hues of pink and orange. Very soothing to the eyes.
***
I pulled up to the black glass building on the north-eastern part of the city and parked my Maserati by the entrance. Many men with different types of Italian sports cars were parked and heading indoors. Most of them were here for a high-priced fuck. Yet I couldn’t be too down on them. I was one of them too. Only difference was that I didn’t mind finding romance at the same time.
It drifted through my thoughts that maybe I could do what Richard said; find someone for the marriage requirement and still look for love. With the right arrangements it could work. The thought of losing my company…it was soul crushing. That was my ego, my livelihood. My father thought he was slick putting that in his will.
I’d show him. Even though he wasn’t here. I pulled my blazer straight and strode inside, men were busy eyeing the girls who entered from the other side of the building.
Where was this mystery girl?
Ms. Rousseau spotted me from the middle of the floor and sashayed up to me with her arms open.
“Mr. Gordon! You’ve arrived early,” she exclaimed, taking me by the arm and leading me through a plethora of tables. There were certain numbers on them. I could only guess that was to match people up.
“Yes, curiosity led me here quicker than I could blink my eye,” I admitted, following her through the maze of tables. We stopped at a special table that sat up a little from the main floor by five or six steps. It must’ve been her VIP section. Little lights glowed around us like stars, making it a comfortable atmosphere.
“Sit right here and she’ll be here any—oh, well well, here she comes.” Ms. Rousseau waved her hands over to a red headed girl who had her hair cut in a bob. Everything about her made her stand out in this dim crowd like a firecracker.
Yes.
I knew it as soon as I laid eyes on her. She was mine. There was an unspoken fire about her and I was going to tame it.
“That’s…her?” I asked for confirmation.
“Yes it is. I’ll leave you two alone now.”
Damn, Ms. Rousseau did have a good sense at picking couples. Hell, if this worked out, I’d have to pay her a hefty tip. She cat walked over to us and climbed the stairs with grace. Her hips were sculpted to fucking perfection. My eyes couldn’t detach from the way they swayed side to side.
“Hey, how are you?” I said, grasping her hand in mine and kissing it.
“Wonderful, and yourself?” That voice made me shiver.
“Oh, I’m good. So many words could be used to describe me right now,” he said, staring at the wine on the table. I pulled her seat out and she sat down. Her scent was floral and feminine, yet strong.
She reached for the wine and gulped it down. “So, what’s your name?” She flickered her gray eyes up to mine, searching my face for answers to questions she hadn’t even verbally asked me yet.
“It’s a secret.” I took a swig of my wine. Hmm, good quality, but I’d rather have opted for a whiskey. She frowned, resting her elbows on the table. She wore a black dress with a Queen Anne neckline that showed off the shape of her breasts wonderfully. My eyes took a dangerous linger across the top. My dick shook as if I could take her right now.
“Secret, still? Hmm…” she sighed, scanning me down. She was sizing me up for something in particular.
“Something wrong?” I asked to further gauge conversation.
“You look familiar. For some reason…Are you on TV?” She folded her arms and leaned back.
I smirked. “Digging for my name, aren’t you?”
“I have to if I’m taking you to a wedding party full of friends and family.”
“Say again?”
“Look, I have a problem. You see, my friend is getting married right? I have a small band of friends and they’re all about my age, but they’re married. Not to just anyone either, they all have husbands that are like billionaires.”
“Being single bothers you?”
“Not at all. I’m not here looking for love. I just need a date to blend in to soothe my image. I have an ego if you haven’t noticed.”
“I had noticed. But you don’t want love? What if you fall for me?” The smile on my face got so damn big I couldn’t keep up with it.
“Then that’s not good. Falling is a bad analogy. Pain always comes after a fall. So, still up for it?” she asked, crossing her legs. God, bad move, I was going to rip through my pants with an enormous erection right here and now.
“The wedding party?” I grabbed my wine glass and chugged the rest of it down. She cocked an eyebrow.
“Yes, you’re looking for love, I’m not. Is that okay? I mean,” leaning in she whispered, “I honestly thought this was a place guys came to for flings anyways.” She glanced around us at the men who were hooked up with other women. You could even see the occasional woman with two men at one table. I could see where that was going as well.
“Sometimes, dear. Sometimes.” This was my excuse to keep her around and make her see what I saw. “I’ll take you to this wedding. But I request one thing.”
“What?” Her expression softened.
“Your name.”
“Lindsey,” she blurted out.
“A last name come with that, Lindsey?” Her name felt like pure sex on the tongue. It suited her.
“Wilson. But that was two requests” she said, folding her arms.
“Well I have one more, and it’s a big one.”
“Alright, I am listening.”
“Well I need you to pretend to be my fiancé.”
“Why? That is an odd request, but I am so desperate for a wedding date that I will do it. In exchange for me agreeing can I get your name?”
“It’s still a secret”
“Great. I can’t wait to tell people to meet Mr. I don’t know his name. What are you hiding?”
“Nothing at all?” I held my hands out. “See?”
She chuckled. Music came on soon after, and men gathered their dates and went to the floor.
I got up and held out my hand to Lindsey. “Let’s dance. Come, I bet you’re good at it.”
“I’m a stripper, so I’m good at dancing the raunchy way. Classic stuff like this? Just watch your feet,” she warned, standing up. She didn’t take my hand though. Mph, the hard one, huh? I liked that.
“A stripper?” Explained why she was toned so fucking perfectly.
“Surprised? Does it turn you off or on?” She threw me a gaze that was littered with lust. If we were alone she’d know how turned on I really was.
“I’ll let you decide. Now move with me, Lindsey. I’ll take care of you.” I cupped her waist and she moved along with me as we danced to the music. Her body fit against my hand perfectly and her scent kept luring me into a trance.
My mind was made up. This was who I wanted to marry. There was more to learn about her. But she’d fit the bill. If only I could persuade her to continue to see me long after this wedding party and assume the role of my real fiancé. I had barely a week and a half to make a miracle happen.
“You’re good,” Lindsey said, her eyes scanning my face.
“You too. Let me take you home,” I offered as we walked off the dance floor. “Maybe even dinner somewhere else?”
“And have you find out where I live? Hah. Funny.”
“I know your name. What makes you think I can’t find out where you live, Lindsey?” She threw me a challenge, and like hell was I going to back down. Not with a body like hers.
“Oh, slick. I see. I’ll be fine. Plus, I have to go to work.”
We exited out of the building and I noticed that she wasn’t driving because she was opening up an Uber app on her phone.
“What work? Lindsey, you don’t work today,” Eliza said, walking over with a heavy exaggerated switch. Lindsey frowned and lowered her eyebrows at her. She was outed. Lindsey was mine to take home and no one else’s.
“Fine. Take me home, but don’t go getting all mushy for me, Mr. No Name.”
Ms. Rousseau shot me an irritated look. What happened to protocol? “His name is Gordon Glen,” Eliza corrected. She took the fun out of this for me.
“Wait, the Gordon Glen?! Good God, Eliza. You do have connections. I thought I knew his face.” She folded her arms again and smirked, jutting her deliciously carved hip out.
“Shall we then?” I asked, holding her by the waist.
“Sure. It’s been a while since I’ve had a day off. It’d be nice to catch some early sleep. Come on rich guy.”
“You know my name now, aren’t you going to use it?” I teased.
“I’ll let you know.