ChapterTwo
1134 Words
“Damn it!” Tyler Morgan exclaimed, throwing a stack of papers onto his desk with a thud as he paced his office.
“How hard can it be to find one woman?” he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples in frustration.
He shifted his gaze to the calendar resting on his table.
It's day three.
Just four days left to find a bride or he loses his inheritance to his cousin Raymond.
His grandfather had said it, and sure wouldn't go back on his word.. he's that disciplined.
Tyler walked towards his office window, staring into the busy city of New York and the very bright skyline.
He thought she'd agree without a second thought, why was she so difficult?
“She was supposed to be the perfect match. Rich guy needs a fake wife, poor girl needs money. It should have been easy huh!” he said to himself, running his hands through his hair.
He began to replay the conversation with Nicole in his mind.
He knew he’d handled it badly.
He should have been more upfront about his intentions, about why he’d chosen her or better still just apologize and take it slow not just rush it like that.
But he’d assumed she’d jump at the chance for $500 million.
Who wouldn't? Was she comfortable with working at the bar.. or wait, was she a… prostitute?
She didn't seem like one though.
Then he wandered to that night, two weeks ago, he was in the club then she walked up to him offering to dance together.. he was tipsy too, he accepted.
Even when they were already drunk, they didn't stop drinking, she kept asking for more.
Why didn't he stop her? Did he actually take advantage of her?
He felt a pang of guilt then waved it off. No, it's the alcohol, definitely the alcohol.. or the blame should probably be on Julie, his now ex girlfriend who had caught cheating on him with his assistant, Owen.
Julie had claimed he doesn't satisfy her sexually but he didn't expect she'd stoop that low to the point of cheating on him with his fuckin assistant!
This heartbreak and also too much pressure from family, work, led him to the first club he saw while taking a stroll that night to clear his head..he went in without thinking twice and opted for alcohol immediately.
Like y'all say, heartbreak and alcohol are definitely not a good combination.
The sudden and loud noise of the opening of his office door jolted him out of the deep thoughts he had fallen into back to the present.
His brow furrowed just for a moment. Only his grandfather could do that, come in without knocking.. he thought it'd turn out to be someone else.. but no, it was indeed Grandpa Morgan.
Standing before him was a man in his late seventies, his silver hair neatly combed back, his navy-blue suit expertly tailored.
Despite his age, there was still a sparkle in his eyes that spoke of a sharp mind.
“Hi, Grandpa,” Tyler said, his voice suddenly more deferential. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock.”
The older man arched an eyebrow at him. “That’s because I didn’t,” he replied with a slight smile.
Grandpa Morgan settled into the chair opposite Tyler’s desk, his sharp gaze never leaving his grandson.
“So,” he said, his voice measured, “How’s it going?”
There he goes again.
He knew exactly what his grandfather was trying to ask but Tyler pretended not to understand.
“How’s what going?” Tyler replied, his voice casual as he took a seat behind his desk.
Grandpa Morgan fixed him with a knowing look. “Don’t play games with me, Tyler,” he said, his tone firm.
“Well, you see…” Tyler began, trying to come up with a believable lie. “Julie and I had a bit of a falling out. Turns out, she wasn’t quite who I thought she was.”
Grandpa Morgan nodded, not entirely surprised. “And yet you said she was perfect.”
Tyler shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I suppose I was a bit blinded by… other factors.”
“I wasn't going to approve of her anyway and you know it. There's no way my grandson would marry an harlot” his grandfather retorted.
Tyler's face flushed red with embarrassment. “Grandpa, that's uncalled for,” he snapped, his voice rising. “She might have had her flaws, but don't refer to her as a harlot.”
Grandpa Morgan's expression hardened, his jaw clenching.
“You want to inherit this company, don't you?” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Bring me a woman who is fit to be the wife of the Morgan Industries' heir. A woman with grace, intelligence, and class. Not some barfly.
“I know that, Grandpa, I will” he said, his voice steadier now.
“The last time we had a meeting, you said you have a girlfriend back in Paris who would be returning soon, why haven't I heard anything??” His grandfather asked.
Tyler felt his heart skip a beat.. the question came suddenly.
He had just said that to make his grandfather calm and he thought the club lady (Nicole ) would agree to his proposal.
“Ah, yes,” he said, his voice faltering slightly. “That was… uh,. She’s not able to make it here.”
Grandpa Morgan sighed heavily, a disappointed look on his face.
“Tyler, you cannot keep stringing me along like this. You have four days left, or else Raymond will get the inheritance. I had hoped you would take this more seriously.”
Tyler felt his back straighten, a stubborn glint in his eye.
“I am taking this seriously, Grandpa,” Tyler insisted, his voice regaining its confidence. “She'll be in New York soon.”
Grandpa Morgan's expression hardened, his lips forming a thin line.
He stood up from the chair, a dismissal in his movement.
“You've got four days,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “Don't make a fool of me. Marry by the end of this week or lose everything.”
As Grandpa Morgan strode out of the office, Tyler slumped in his chair, his confidence suddenly evaporating.
“f**k it!” He let out.
He picked up the phone and started dialing, going through a mental list of potential candidates.
One by one, the rejections rolled in.
Either they were already in serious relationships, or they weren't interested in a fake marriage for any amount of money.
“Four days,” he muttered to himself, his mind racing with ideas. “There has to be someone. There just has to be.”
- Writer
