Exclusive Love (British Billionaires Series)

by Sorell Oates

  The bottom of the dress had an intricate pattern sewn through and a string of pearls ran from the bottom of her dress, round the belt to her shoulders to attach a fine blue silk cape behind her. The dress was perfect for her petite build. The blue coloring matched her eyes and even her thick black hair was pinned up in an Oriental fashion.

  ‘Vintage,’ affirmed Katy, not wanting to have the girl draw attention to her tired wardrobe.

  ‘Vintage or not, it’s gorgeous. It’s as if it was designed especially for you. I’m Imogen, by the way,’ she said offering her hand to shake.

  Over-zealously shaking her hand, Katy realized, Imogen was not looking to humiliate her publicly, but being genuinely friendly.

  ‘I would normally remonstrate my big brother on his appalling manners for not introducing us, but it appears your dress has him at a loss for words. I can’t say I blame him so I’ll let him off this time,’ she winked.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Rupert. ‘You do look stunning.’

  Katy blushed.

  ‘Almost as stunning as my sister,’ he said raising his voice to ensure she was within earshot. He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head.

  ‘You coming up, old boy?’ called Rupert to Oscar.

  Oscar bounded up the stairs.

  ‘Mesmerized as you were I’m afraid, old chap,’ explained Oscar of his delayed arrival.

  ‘I’ll tell you what, old bean. I think we’ll be in for a tip top evening tonight,’ predicted Imogen as she hugged Oscar tight.

  Feeling as though by stepping on the boat, she had in fact stepped onto the set of Jeeves and Wooster, where toffs and their quaint sayings were a great source of amusement, Katy wasn’t sure exactly what constituted a tip top night for the British.

  ‘Let’s say we scrub up, settle down, stuff ourselves silly and drink lot of your finest red, suggested Oscar. ‘What do you say old girl? Does that sound a jolly good evening to you?’

  The elbow digging in her ribs, jarred almost as much as the language Oscar was using. Was this how he behaved around his friends? Did he feel the need to adopt an accent to fit in? Trying to make sense of the bizarre atmosphere, Katy refused to let her anger rise in regard of being referred to as ‘old girl’—especially being twelve years his junior.

  Coming out with a bottle of red, Imogen poured them a glass. Swirling it in hand then sniffing, it was if Oscar was trying to inhale and dissect the bouquet of the wine. Sipping it he reached for the ice bucket to spit.

  ‘Don’t you dare Oscar Woodruff!’ snarled Imogen. ‘That vintage is too good to waste on immature gags.’

  The cogs in Katy’s brain were turning slower than usual.

  ‘Joke,’ mumbled Oscar in her ear.

  ‘Sorry your idea for a gag on how to fool the only American is to speak in pretentious accents with stereotypical phrases? That was your best Oscar?’

  ‘It was pretty pathetic,’ agreed Imogen.

  ‘You’re bally well right there sugar plum, said Rupert.

  Everyone turned on him.

  ‘Joke over. I get it. I’ll behave.’

  They sipped the rich wine.

  ‘Didn’t throw you in the slightest?’ prodded Oscar.

  ‘Oh all right it did. Seriously, I thought Oscar was putting on some jolly old Englishman routine to fit in with the two of you. It’s the only thing I could put his nerves down to.’

  ‘Oscar was nervous?’ clarified Imogen.

  Oscar glared at Katy.

  ‘Well, you were. Besides I like them. I can’t help feeling comfortable so soon. It’s only right I’d open up and confide in them. You aren’t cross are you, old chap?’

  Imogen and Rupert cracked up. Oscar couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

  ‘Your English accent is atrocious,’ he sneered, leaning over the table to kiss her.

  ‘Oscar, tactile in public. You are a changed man. Do we put this down to Katy or America?’

  ‘Strictly Katy. I have no desire to stay in New York any longer than I have to. Life in the Big Apple is highly overrated.’

  ‘Tactful,’ muttered Imogen into her wine glass as she bowed her head.

  Rupert shifted uncomfortably. Katy chose to sit motionless, say nothing and paste a wide smile on her face.

  ‘What?’ asked an exasperated Oscar.

  Rupert said nothing, refusing to break the code of silence between siblings.

  ‘Think about it. You introduce us to the woman that’s cured you of your stuffy ways. Rupert and I can see she’s out of your league. You’ve met in New York and seem to have a good thing going, but by the look on her face, I’m guessing Katy had no idea you were hoping to leave so soon.

  Rather than landing the bombshell of your imminent departure without warning and in public with two new people she’s spending the evening with, you might have chosen to deliver that particular news privately,’ berated Imogen.

  ‘Katy knows I’m only here on assignment,’ frowned Oscar.

  ‘I bet she didn’t know how strongly you felt about leaving,’ countered Imogen, siding with the sisterhood.

  ‘That may have an element of truth in it, but what’s with the sad faces? Why does it have to be all doom and gloom? What’s the point in having someone like Imogen working in the British Embassy, if not to acquire a visa for Katy and I to conduct our relationship cross country as any normal, mature, couple?’

  ‘You’re not normal for a start,’ remarked Katy drily.

  ‘Was that veiled talk of marriage Oscar? Is that what caused the nerves?’ roasted Imogen, voicing her analysis as Katy delivered the cutting blow.

  Rupert snorted and red wine flew out his nose. Unlike Oscar, he was traditionally handsome and perhaps all the more confident because of his masculine model-esque looks. Dark hair, blue eyes, six foot, slim and toned, comfortable in his clothes, environment and in himself.

  Having lived in New York, Katy could see his dress sense was more in line with US fashion. Navy chinos and canvas shoes, the elbow length, button up slim fit, white and khaki ombre dyed shirt with mandarin collar was a better fitting, hipper look in comparison to Oscar’s formal trousers and long sleeved shirt. Sadly the effect was ruined as he released the maroon liquid he’d gulped down over himself. Mortified at his wine and mucus shooting out and over everyone he apologized profusely, excusing himself to clean up the mess.

  ‘What’s on the menu tonight, then?’ asked Oscar, rubbing his hands together, hoping to change the topic to avoid being the subject of continual ribbing.

  ‘We’re waiting for our last guest. It was supposed to be guests but sadly not.’

  ‘Spill,’ insisted Katy. ‘Cause I don’t think you’ll be able to when your brother’s back.’

  Imogen nodded brusquely to let Katy know she was right.

  ‘Our cousin Robert traveled over here with his long term girlfriend, Charlotte, who he has a two year old son with. Now I don’t know what happened on the obligatory family All American road trip on Route 66, but somewhere between California and Arizona, Charlotte and the toddler, imaginatively named Robert Junior, vanished.’

  ‘You think he pushed them into the Grand Canyon,’ teased Katy.

  ‘I did wonder. Turns out they’re back in England. Robert is fully enjoying single life in the Big Apple. Every time we see him there’s a new lady, although his current beau must’ve been unbearable because he dumped her between Thursday and today.’

  Oscar rolled his eyes at the two girls gossiping.

  ‘The big question is,’ he said folding his arms. ‘Did Robert ever complete Route 66?’

  ‘Alas, no. The highlights of the highway from New Mexico to Illinois held little interest for me.’

  Jumping from his seat, Oscar offered a hand of introduction to the final guest then introduced Katy.

  ‘It’s good to know that since Imogen joined the family we can all sleep soundly, secure in the knowledge that family business will continue to remain strictly private business.’

  ‘As
far as I’m aware you aren’t involved in the family business are you, Robert? Descended from a long lineage of lawyers, I could’ve sworn we Locke-Smythes continue to run our legal practice. A practice you are neither qualified nor ever physically present to consider yourself a part of. You are only associated by name to the family.’

  ‘As are you, Imogen. The benefits of being adopted above your born status.’

  ‘True, but at least I studied law and at least my job with the British Embassy assists the international department of the New York office. You, on the other hand, are happy to lead a life of luxury, living off your father’s inheritance.’

  ‘Play nice, Imogen,’ chided Rupert, appearing before the two who were bickering like cat and dog. ‘And Robert as long as you’re a guest on my yacht I’ll thank you to treat my sister with the respect she deserves. Without Imogen, my family would not be what it is. You know our history, please always remember that. If you can’t, you need to rethink whether you want to be associated with us. As for the business, if you have any concerns, perhaps we can talk privately later.’

  Rupert embraced his cousin to take the sting out of his harsh welcome on board.

  Oscar and Katy exchanged an uncomfortable look, wondering if Rupert’s presence would prevent any further snide comments. In terms of awkward moments it rated high on the scale. Imogen’s coloring was so similar to Rupert, Katy had no idea they weren’t related by blood. That someone would mention it in front of two strangers was disgraceful and a low blow to land in an argument. Fortunately as the red wine flowed, and Imogen’s Moroccan-based food was served everyone settled into enjoying the evening.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Considerably relaxed and merry, the atmosphere was buzzing without any hint of the fracas earlier.

  ‘What was this nervous anxiety business about you seeing us?’ asked Rupert.

  ‘Nothing, nothing.’

  Oscar waved a drunken hand to imply the subject was closed. Imogen and Rupert chanted ‘spill, spill, spill, spill.’ Robert joined in. When Katy entered for the final chorus he admitted defeat.

  ‘I really, really wanted you to meet my adorable Katy, but I was totally focused on announcing her as my girlfriend. We only sealed the deal last night. While it’s new, it doesn’t mean it’s not real and it doesn’t mean it’s not forever. I was practicing in front of mirror as how I should introduce her and given our similar ages and Katy not even near her mid twenties, all I could obsess on was you two mocking me,’ he said pointing accusatorily at the two siblings.

  ‘I knew you’d happily point out that at thirty-five I am long past boyhood. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of Katy. I stressed so much I didn’t even notice her dress until she hit the deck and the moonlight illuminated her like a silent film star,’ rambled Oscar, pretending to be drunker than he was as an excuse to voice his true feelings.

  ‘I think I’ve learned more about you in five minutes, than I have in the thirty years I’ve known you,’ laughed Rupert at Oscar’s unexpected emotional blathering.

  ‘Katy is a girl, so she can be your girlfriend. The intro is fine. It’s Katy that needs to lose sleep over how to introduce you to her parents. At least you’ll have loads in common with them. I bet you’re a lot closer in age to them than you are to Katy,’ taunted Imogen.

  ‘Exactly what I said,’ agreed Katy.

  ‘Leave my friend alone. This teasing and bullying is precisely the reason he didn’t want to confide. Don’t make him regret it,’ defended Rupert.

  ‘I don’t. I don’t regret a thing. I do however regret having to get in touch with your friend to break the bad news,’ he said, pointing at Imogen.

  ‘Nooooo. You didn’t?’

  ‘I did. Katy was the first one.’

  ‘I can’t believe you signed up to Exclusive Love, Oscar Woodruff.’

  Katy’s hound dog instincts emerged, even when drunk.

  ‘What’s Imogen’s friend got to do with Exclusive Love?’

  ‘She created the site,’ said Rupert, Oscar, Robert and Imogen in unison.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Gap in the market. People connect in respect of their nationality and status. When we first moved here for Rupert to take over the practice, we spent our entire time trying to set Rupert’s friends up with dates. Everyone had the same complaint. The sea of gold diggers made taking dating seriously a near impossibility.’

  ‘Too true,’ uttered Oscar, supporting the allegation.

  ‘In hindsight, they knew the type of people Imogen and I socialize with. If we were setting them up with a single woman it would be someone appropriate,’ said Rupert innocently.

  ‘Define someone appropriate,’ requested Katy, ensuring her tone remained calm and laid back.

  ‘A woman looking for love, to settle down and share a life; rather than a woman looking for a schmuck with a fat pay check,’ said Imogen.

  ‘Who came up with the screening process?’

  ‘It was tough. We both did. Clara knew she already had a unique selling position by only having single British millionaires as her male clients. Whatever abundance of wealth is around, the ratio of female millionaires in America to Clara’s database of British millionaires is miniscule. Coming from money myself.’

  ‘The lottery of adoption,’ uttered Robert.

  ‘Coming from money myself,’ she continued, ‘I realized in my position I’d use the site for dating only, not to marry into money.’

  ‘You’ve no need to concern yourself with that when adopted by billionaires.’

  Everyone refused to register Robert’s interjections.

  ‘I hypothesized that financially, independent women whose income would be substantially greater than the average female American salary, would be more inclined to have genuine reason to use the site. They wouldn’t need the wealth, nor would they see it as a golden ticket to the impossible dream. Chances are they’d respect the man’s position. In addition, women in a strong, financial situation are more likely to be accustomed to the professional demands and social requirements of those surrounding a millionaire.

  ‘You can’t pretend there isn’t a social gap. This is slumming it for us tonight, but dinner on a yacht by the marina is heaven for other people. If it didn’t have a financial screening process, Exclusive Love would be yet another dating website full of frauds and gold diggers. What we’ve tried to do is extract or diminish the ‘millionaire’ appeal to create a database of sincere women looking for love befitting the needs of the single British millionaire. The male clients have a substantial choice of suitable dates, which means they won’t have to ‘train’ to a socially acceptable standard. It’s why the men pay a monthly subscription.’

  ‘What is the subscription fee?’

  ‘$5,000’

  ‘A year?’ Katy called for clarification.

  ‘A month,’ said Oscar. ‘Thank god I’ve found you Katy, because tomorrow, I shall have to break the bad news to Clara that I’m out.’

  ‘Aren’t you putting all your eggs in one basket? Try before you buy and all that,’ interjected Robert.

  His careless comment finally caused Rupert, Imogen and Oscar to sit up straight. Rupert was prepared to bawl him out, his hand already on Oscar’s chest to ensure he remained seated while defending Katy. Shrugging, Katy looked skywards, letting the trio know she hadn’t taken it to heart and wasn’t bothered.

  ‘$60,000 a year is crazy money,’ said Katy.

  ‘For the women on there, definitely. Hence no subscription fee for them. For a millionaire it’s next to nothing,’ explained Oscar.

  ‘Exclusive Love must be raking it in, Imogen,’ said Robert suggestively.

  ‘Never mind the company’s finances.’

  Turning her back to Robert, Imogen was proud to confirm Robert’s speculation.

  ‘Clara is raking it in. Trouble is while there are decent blokes out there like Oscar who are considering settling down, there’s a lot of men in and out of America on bu
siness wanting no-strings fun with the confidence that the women they’re dating aren’t going to be emotionally demanding or overly clingy when ditched. That’s how a gold digger will behave if she wants to pursue a British millionaire.

  ‘She’ll dig her claws in and not let go. A financially, independent lady such as myself or Katy would remain a lady and accept the cad for what he is. Oscar falls in love and cancels his subscription. If every British millionaire was as lucky in love, income would be limited without ongoing subscriptions. It’s not public knowledge, but I know Exclusive Love has a number of clients that use it more as a sex website than a dating one. It’s a reliable earner.’

  ‘Financially speaking then, Clara benefits from men that are essentially playboys. Her main source of income is catering to men’s sex drives and callous disregard for women.’

  ‘It’s a harsh truth to learn but there’s no money in love,’ said Rupert, patting Katy’s hunched shoulders.

  ‘Perhaps I’m naïve, but it seems unfair on the women to go through a stringent screening process only to be subject to the whims and fancies of spoiled, selfish, playboy millionaires.’

  ‘Men are given the opportunity to say on their profile if it’s long term, short term, love or friendship they’re after. Women aren’t going in completely blind,’ reasoned Imogen.

  ‘But a lot of guys can choose to lie on their profile to attract dates. I’m sure technology isn’t so advanced the website installed a lie detector in the software to alert the administrator as to when a millionaire is typing in a lie about what he’s seeking to trap his prey,’ emphasized Katy.

  ‘No, but it would’ve been class had it,’ laughed Rupert. ‘I think that not charging a subscription fee to acceptable female clients is how Clara justifies the situation to sleep at night.’

  ‘Are any of the millionaires fake?’

  ‘No. They couldn’t possibly be. The stringent financial checks carried out are in place to ensure Exclusive Love delivers what it offers which is British millionaires, or billionaires in Oscar’s case. With Google and the internet, basic research is easy to carry out. Combine research with the financial measures it’s fail safe,’ rationed Imogen.