by Laura Burton
“What? Who is it? I told you to cancel my appointments.”
“Yes, Ms. Stewart, but this man very much wants to speak with you. He says it’s urgent.”
Emily stared at Jaqueline’s hazel eyes and took a moment to process the news.
“Okay, fine. Send him in.” She sighed as Jaqueline nodded and left the room again.
Emily stood up and straightened her pencil skirt and stared at the door as she prepared for the unexpected visitor to walk through. Soon enough, the door opened again and in walked the tallest man Emily had ever seen. He ducked gracefully as he walked across the threshold and as he stood up straight again, his dark wavy hair flicked back as if in slow motion. Emily stared at him with wide eyes, dazzled by his charming smile while their eyes locked. It took a few moments for her to realize that his mouth was opening and closing when her ears finally decided to tune in.
“… I do appreciate you allowing me to impose on your schedule at such short notice.” His voice was low and silky. He had an English school-boy accent. Emily’s breath caught in her chest and she grinned widely as she stared at him with sheer delight. His broad shoulders bulged from beneath his designer grey suit and a flash of light by his wrist caught her attention. Is that a Rolex?
“I hope you don’t mind, this is Robert and Joffrey.” He motioned behind him. Emily leaned to the side and caught sight of two huge men standing by the door. One of them was balding at the sides, the other had a full red beard.
“Hello, I’m so sorry I didn’t catch your name.” Emily stretched out her hand and offered it to the gentleman. He took hers in a firm hold, and she looked down to see the watch on his wrist. Definitely a Rolex.
“David,” he said softly. They broke contact and Emily gestured to the two white couches sitting across a coffee table in the center of her office.
“Come and take a seat, David.” They sat across from each other, while the two men stood motionless by the door.
“I’m a friend of one of your former clients…,” David began, offering her a bashful smile. That was normal, most of Emily’s clients were nervous during their consultation visit.
“Oh! That’s lovely, who?”
“Harold. He said you would be able to help me with my situation.”
“If it’s love you’re looking for, you’ve come to the right place,” Emily said cheerfully.
David smiled broadly at her and then his smile faded as he eyed her seriously. “I require this to be dealt with… sensitively,” he murmured.
“Yes, yes, of course. We deal with many clients who need to avoid the public eye. So tell me, David… what line of business are you in? Modeling?’ Emily flashed him a cheeky smile. David inclined his head and grinned shyly. His grey eyes twinkled in the sunshine.
“Hospitality,” he said humbly. Emily picked up a notepad and pen and crossed her knees.
“I’ll just take a few details, if that’s all right.”
“May I ask a quick question?” David looked up at her, keeping his head stooped low. He rested his right hand on his knee as he rounded his shoulders.
“Oh, okay….” Emily fumbled with the pages of her notebook in search of a blank page and nervously clicked the pen in her left hand.
“Are you from England, per chance?”
Emily smiled. “Yes, I am.”
David sat back and clapped his hands together triumphantly, as though he’d just solved all the world’s problems. Honestly, she thought to herself, with his posh accent, she’d have thought he went to the London School of Business. “I thought so.”
“And you?” Emily asked.
“London,” he replied with his hand raised, as if it were a confession.
She had to hold back rolling her eyes. “Where did you go to school?”
“Eton.”
Of course.
Emily stared at David as he dragged a hand through his luscious mop of hair. The strands caught the sunlight as it moved, keeping Emily in a trance.
“And you?” David asked with his thick brows raised.
Emily snapped out of her reverie and flicked back her silky hair and sat up straight. “Oxford,” she said as she brushed her hand aside. She loosened her grip and her pen dropped to the floor. David smiled at her serenely; apparently, he didn’t notice.
The room fell silent as they eyed one another.
“Well, here we are, two foreigners in the Big Apple.” Emily said, as she craned her neck and looked out at the large window behind her desk. A window cleaner was on a trolley cleaning the glass. “Although, this feels more like home than England ever was,” she mused. She shot back to look at David who sat with his hands together on the couch across from her.
“I beg your pardon, how rude of me. Can I get you a drink?’ she blurted out as she motioned to call for Jaqueline.
“No, no I’m fine, thank you.” David raised his hands briefly. Emily smiled and settled back into the couch.
“Right, well, what can I do for you, David?”
“I have a predicament.”
“Uh huh.” Emily bent over and pretended to scratch her ankle as she picked up the pen that was lying on the floor beside her feet. “Care to tell?”
David rubbed his stubbled chin and thought for a moment.
“Off the record?”
“Mr.––”
“Marks.” Emily’s eyes widened. “As in, the hotel chain?”
“Yes,” David said sheepishly.
“Hospitality, eh.” Emily laughed to herself and crossed her arms as she eyed the two men standing by the door. Must be his bodyguards.
“Mr. Marks––”
“Please call me David.”
Rich and charming, very nice.
“Okay, David. Anything said between us is strictly confidential. I assure you, this is not the first meeting I’ve had with a––”
“Desperate man?”
“I was going to say, client who wants to avoid the press. So, what’s the story? Fed up with gold-digging women following you around? Had enough of the rich, beautiful heiresses falling at your feet? Want to find a nice young American girl to fall in love with?”
“Well, simply put, I need to find a wife in thirty days.”
Emily looked up from her notepad and stared at David, looking for any sign of sarcasm and found none.
I’ll marry you! she thought wildly.
“You….”
“… need to find a wife in thirty days, yes. Do you think you can help me?” he finished for her.
Oh, this is too perfect.
Emily’s plump lips curved into an evil smile. “I’m quite confident that can be arranged.
“Ordinarily, I would ask my clients to take a profile quiz on my app.” Emily held up her electronic tablet for David to see. “However, due to the time-sensitive nature of your needs, I think it would be more appropriate to get to know you personally instead.” Emily buzzed for Jaqueline, who entered the room promptly and eyed the two bodyguards warily as she approached.
“Jaqueline, would you pass my clients to Julian for the rest of the month. This case requires my full attention.” Jaqueline nodded and left the room again, quiet as a mouse. “David, I will need a list of available times from you for me to arrange your dates.”
“I can do that.”
Emily rubbed her palms together and got to her feet. David followed suit.
“Tell me, David, what’s your type?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your type, you know, what sort of woman do you normally go for?”
David frowned. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. Emily raised her brows in surprise. This was usually the easy part, the part where the client spiels off a list of ridiculously particular characteristics they look for in a potential mate. Short hair, long hair, big hands, small feet, quiet laugh, long legs… the list was endless. And yet, here was a billionaire bachelor who looked like he just strolled off a Hollywood movie set and was capable of getting just about any wom
an he wanted, yet had no idea what he looked for in a partner? Fascinating, Emily thought as she stared at him.
“Okay, let’s start off easy. Do you find blondes the most attractive?” she asked pointedly, her pen primed at the notepad, ready for action.
“Well, uh—”
“What interests do you have?”
“Like, hobbies? I travel a lot, I suppose… for work.”
“Do you like traveling?”
“Sure.” He probably has his own private jet, of course he likes traveling. Emily scrawled down some information into her notebook.
“Anything else? Anything you look for at all in a woman?”
“She needs to know her own mind, and can hold up her end of an argument.”
“Ah, so you like to be challenged, interesting.” Emily wrote into her notebook, encouraged by his participation.
“What about career?”
“What about it?”
“Is it important that she is career driven? Or do you prefer the stay-at-home wife, sort of woman?”
“I don’t mind… she needs to be passionate about something, I guess.”
“Body type? Height? Eye color? Any preference at all?” David’s face grew crimson at the question. Is he blushing? This is too adorable. Half of the women in New York would eat him up! Emily surveyed his expression and leaned forward.
“Can I ask a personal question?” she murmured. David glanced back at the two bodyguards and nodded to them. Slowly they vacated the room, leaving the two of them alone for the first time.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” Emily asked seriously. David blinked at her for a moment.
“Would it make me sound like a loser, if I said no?”
“Never?” Emily whistled. “And you want a wife? In thirty days… can I ask why?”
“Look, it’s not easy to get dates when you’re in my position.” David folded his arms.
“Oh, I understand. It’s painfully hard to find anyone who would be willing to date a drop-dead-gorgeous businessman who has his own bodyguards.”
David laughed. Emily smiled back at him.
“Yes, well that’s why I need you.”
“I’m more than happy to help, but what’s with the time limit? You’re not dying, are you?”
“Wow, you really like to pry.”
“It’s my job to know these things,” Emily said simply. David sighed heavily and sat back down on the couch while Emily rested her hands on her hips and leaned against her desk.
“My grandmother is dying.”
Emily’s hands fell to her sides and she frowned at him.
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
“She holds the majority of the shares in the Marks business, and she won’t pass them onto me until she’s met my wife.”
“But you don’t have a wife,” Emily said quickly.
David grimaced.
“I told my grandmother I eloped a couple of years ago, when she was asking questions.”
“Why? And anyway, that sort of information about someone like you, doesn’t just stay quiet. It would be in the news, surely. How did you convince your family you were secretly married?”
David got up and walked across the room to look at the photographs hanging on the wall.
“My grandmother is having a birthday party, all the family are expected to attend.” David turned around and looked pointedly at Emily. “Including, my wife,” he added.
“Fake matchmaking isn’t my forte, you know.” Emily cocked her brow as she strolled across the room to him. David raised his hands.
“I know,” he said defensively. “I thought you could help me find… the one.”
Emily sucked in her cheeks and looked wildly around the room.
“So, you want a smart, opinionated woman to marry you in the next thirty days… oh and you want her to be ‘the one’?”
David inclined his head. Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes and laugh.
“Why don’t you just hire a woman to pretend to be your wife?” Pick me! she silently added, realizing that this could be the perfect scenario for her investors.
“Like I said, I’m looking for more than just a fake wife,” David countered. Emily smiled; she liked the sound of that.
“There we go, so we do have a romantic side.” She wrote notes down in her book and looked up at him. “Right, I think I have enough to go on here, are you free tonight?”
“You’ll have a date set up that quickly?” David seemed surprised. Emily placed her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest.
“I’m Emily Stewart. I can have three dates lined up for you within forty-eight hours.”
“Well, yes, in that case. I’ll make arrangements to stay in town.” David clapped his hands together.
“Quick question: Are you allergic to sushi?”
“Er, no.”
“Okay, good. Your first date will be at a sushi bar, and don’t worry. I’ll keep it nice and discreet. We’ll hire out a room in the back, and I’m sure your two pals behind that door will figure out a way to get you there without being seen.” Emily sashayed her hips as she walked around her desk and put her notebook down.
“If you leave your contact details with my assistant in the reception, I’ll leave you a message when I have some news. Oh, and I assume Jaqueline has passed my pricing list to you?”
“No, she hasn’t.”
“I’ll have her send that on as well, then.” Emily held out her hand for David to shake. He took it and the two of them grinned at each other.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, David. I look forward to finding you the perfect wife.”
The metal heels of Emily’s Jimmy Choo’s clicked along the ground as she strutted through the subway station. Crowds of commuters stood around waiting, and the stench of old cigarette smoke clung to the walls like tar. It nearly shielded the overwhelming smell of body odor; nevertheless, Emily had become immune to the offensive aromas in the subway. Getting around in New York took hours, not minutes—no matter which method of transport Emily chose. But she preferred to walk or take the subway rather than sit in traffic watching the taxi meter ticking. Like clockwork, Emily picked up her copy of the new Estelle fashion magazine and a giant hot pretzel from the stands outside the station. She scanned her MetroCard and walked through the barriers absentmindedly as she took a bite of her pretzel and flipped through the pages of her magazine. She grabbed the last seat on the train and avoided eye contact, happily thumbing through the fashion pages.
A couple of African American teenage boys stood by the doors listening to music as they bobbed their heads and made hand signals to each other. A large balding woman swayed side to side as her eyes rolled back in their sockets and she moaned. Not that Emily noticed, of course.
Emily rented out a small apartment downtown, and even though it was only a few stops away, the commute could easily take an hour during commuter times. After nine years, eight months, and sixteen days of doing the journey, Emily was now accustomed to it. She was no longer surprised by the characters she came across; in fact, everyone around her had become invisible.
Emily’s phone vibrated. She dabbed her salty lips with a napkin as she put the last of her pretzel down on her lap and picked up the flashing phone from her Gucci purse.
“I’m on the subway. What is it, Jaqueline?”
“I just wanted to check that you wanted to set Mr. Marks up with Mandy Price?”
“Yes, what’s the problem?”
“I’m surprised, looking at her profile…”
Emily smiled wickedly to herself. “Oh, you don’t think she’s passionate and opinionated?”
“Sure, she’s very opinionated, but I thought—”
“Do I pay you to think, Jaqueline?” Emily asked bluntly.
“Well, I like to think that—”
“There it is again. I don’t need someone to think for me. What I need is someone to run errands, and I also did not ask for you to second-guess my decisions.”
“Sorry, Ms. Stewart.”
“Do not let it happen again.”
“My apologies. I’ll make those reservations and send out the details to Mr. Marks now.”
“See you in the morning, Jaqueline.” Emily sighed. She was tired of having to act like a dragon. Yet, this young Jersey girl so often pushed the line. An assistant should not be second-guessing her boss’ decisions. She was a confusing girl to Emily, one moment acting timid and shy, then aloof and snappy with her the next. If this was going to work, she figured that telling Jaqueline about the plan was inevitable. With that thought, she puffed out her chest, picked up her pretzel again and she plotted a most-evil plan.
Chapter Two
A Disastrous Date
David clutched the edge of his seat so tightly, he could feel the veins in his arms bulging. He tried not to look bewildered as he watched the young woman sitting across the table order her food.
“I’ll have the salmon, but I don’t want it smoked, and do you have those little rice rolls wrapped up in leaves?”
The waiter inclined his head and scrawled notes on the minuscule notebook in the palm of his hand.
“I gather you don’t eat sushi very often?’ David asked politely. Mandy shook her head and offered a laugh in response. David’s brows twitched as he resisted the urge to raise them.
“Oh, and be a doll”—she turned back to the waiter again—“get me a tonic water, but not the sparkling kind, it makes me kind of gassy, and we wouldn’t want that on a first date!’ She threw her head back and roared with laughter, which got caught somewhere in her throat. She coughed and smiled as the waiter walked away.
“So, tell me about yourself. The agency said you’re stinking rich!” She flashed a toothy grin. David tried not to look at the red lipstick staining her front teeth.
“Oh, they said that, did they?” He subconsciously ran a tongue across his own teeth.
“Well, obviously they didn’t say that, but I didn’t need them to. I already knew.” She twirled her thick hair between her fingers and eyed him like he was a plaything.
“Really?” David cleared his throat and tried to smile.
