ONE - WILL

THE WOMAN WAS STILL GRINDING on my lap, oblivious to my disinterest. I pushed her onto her feet whilst stifling a yawn. I was bored. Sure, the club was cutting edge, so exclusive there was a two month waiting list just to join the queue outside. But what did that count for when money bought you membership and you’d been there every Thursday night for a month?

Back in my youth, I’d have killed to own a place like this. But now I could buy it with a click of my fingers, that idea didn’t excite me, it just made me want to yawn again.

Across the floor, a group of stockbrokers were trying to get past the bouncer and into the VIP lounge. I couldn’t hear what they were saying over the music but I could guess.

“Why can’t we come in? Our money’s as good as theirs?”

I doubted it and so did the bouncer, only taking their abuse for another few seconds before shoving them bodily away.

The woman I’d just pushed to her feet had already moved across to Grant, trying to squeeze onto his arm. She was competing with two other girls who were laughing dutifully at his lewd jokes.

I thought about the younger me again. Teenage, poor, virgin. He’d have been agog at the thought of me not wanting those girls on my lap.

They were beautiful, in their own way. Tall, thin, poured into their dresses, drawn to men such as me like bees to honey. I thought I might take one of them home to fuck but I doubted it. I didn’t think I could fake the enthusiasm.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Carl asked from the other side of the table. “You look like you’re at your Grandma’s wake.”

“I had his Grandma,” Pete called across. “She was awake after I was done with her.”

They laughed and I managed a half smile. What was I supposed to tell them? “Sorry but I’m going through some kind of mid thirties crisis, I don’t think I want the clubs or the girls anymore, I want something more…”

What did I want? I didn’t know, I just knew it wasn’t the club and it wasn’t the woman sashaying over to me with her tits spilling out of her dress.

I never used to feel bored looking at someone like her, I used to think how a couple of notes would unzip that dress and get her on her knees with her mouth open. But I didn’t want to do it. I just wanted something else and I couldn’t work out what the hell it was.

“She’ll cheer you up,” Lionel said, pointing at her before throwing his wallet onto the table. “Someone get me more champagne before I die of thirst.”

The women all leapt on his bankcards like hyenas, you could almost hear the growling as they fought to get the best tip from him.

That was the problem, right there. These women were only here because we had money. I might have had nine eyes, green skin and a cock the size of a walnut and they’d still grind on it as long as I had billions in the bank. I wanted something more, someone who wasn’t just after my bank balance.

As they walked off, still fighting over the wallet, Lionel shuffled over to me. He was old money, much older than self made me but he affected a working class accent in places like this. I had no idea why, probably just for his own amusement.

His father was the Marquis of Railsbury but he sounded like he was about to audition for Mary Poppins. “What’s up with you, Will?” he shouted over the music.

“Nothing much, just bored.”

“Bored? You see how much pussy is begging to be fucked in here and you say you’re bored?”

I nodded.

He pulled out a cigar and handed it to me. “Have a sniff of that.”

I shook my head. “What’s your point?”

“It smells of money. You smell of money. You’re rich, my friend, you can do anything. You’re bored? Think of something to do and do it.”

“Like what?”

“Anything. Want to get a new Ferrari and make a bonfire out of it? Do it. Want to buy up a football club? Fuck the cheerleaders? Do it.”

“I know what we could do,” Grant said, leaning forwards in his seat. “We could have a bet.”

“Yeah!” Larry slurred. “Like the good old days.”

“We’re not doing that,” I said, shaking my head. “We’re not kids anymore.”

“Hark at the mature chicken over there. What’s the matter, scared?”

That riled me, I felt my fists clenching. “Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t back out of a bet then. I bet you…”

He beckoned the others over and they whispered together, leaving me the sole focus of the woman who had reappeared with a bottle of champagne the size of her. The others trailed behind, trying to get my attention. I let them think I was interested, it gave me something to do until the guys sat back down, grinning conspiratorially at me.

“What?” I asked impatiently. “What is it?”

“We think you should try and fuck someone at your work.”

I shrugged. “I don’t mix work and pleasure.”

“Bullshit. You’ve fucked the last three of your secretaries.”

They had me there. That was why I’d hired Robert a month earlier. It removed the temptation having a man old enough to be my father handling my appointments.

“That’s too easy,” Grant said and they began conferring again. I waited, yawning and not bothering to conceal it this time.

Lionel spoke for them when they separated again. “The solemn order of Amalgamated Bettors United issue you, William Bailey, a wager that you cannot place a telephone call to a random woman in your company directory and after said call, procure her services in fourteen days. Put bluntly, to phone then fuck her within a fortnight.”

“Is that all?” I asked. “Piece of piss.”

“So confident,” Grant said with a laugh. “Will he be so cocky when we pick blue rinse Gladys in the canteen?”

“There isn’t a Gladys in the canteen,” I replied, not sure if I was right. I wouldn’t know. It wasn’t somewhere I’d ever been.

“The point is,” Lionel said, leaning over to collect his glass as one of the women filled it to the brim, “that you don’t know who you might be ringing. It could be an eighteen year old virgin intern with a cleavage you can ski down. Or it could be a ninety year old cleaner with varicose veins and cobwebs where a snatch should be.”

Shit, I thought. He was right. Picking a woman to fuck was easy, having to fuck a woman I might not want to, well that was a whole different ball game. Still, a bet was a bet. I wasn’t backing down, it wasn’t my style.

The terms were waiting for me when I got home. I was old school with my phone, no email, no internet, it made calls and sent messages, that was it. A month ago, Apple had sent me an exclusive Iphone engraved with my name on the back. They had hoped I’d agree to advertise for them but I hadn’t even bothered to turn it on. When emails came through to my phone, the thing was lit up like a Christmas tree twenty-four hours a day. I couldn’t be doing with it.

So I didn’t see the email from Lionel until I turned on my laptop. It was there waiting for me, all in the formal language of the old days, back when we used to bet over the most stupid things, who could be the first to fuck triplets, who could get a woman to beg for anal on camera, juvenile stuff that seemed funny at the time and now seemed utterly pointless.

If it wasn’t for being called chicken, I’d have deleted his email. But I couldn’t have my honour impugned like that. I was going to do it just to prove a point. I’d fuck whoever was on the other end of the phone at bet time, whether I wanted to or not. And more to the point, whether they wanted to or not.

Not that I thought I’d have much trouble in that department. They’d take one look at me and be begging to be fucked, just like the girls in the club. It hardly seemed worth the effort.

I read through the email. Lionel would come to my office tomorrow at ten. I was to have a printed company phone directory to hand. He would scroll through and pick a woman’s name at random. I’d then ring that number while he listened to the call. Then the clock would start ticking. I’d have a fortnight to get her into bed. Two weeks. Piece of piss. I only had to fuck her once to win the bet. Enough money chucked at the lucky victim and she’d say yes. They always said yes in the end. The only question was who was he going to pick? Whoever she was, she had no idea she was about to be fucked by her billionaire boss just so he could win a pointless bet.