Chapter 3
Tyler
"Your life is over," I said, smacking down a glass on the bar counter.
Brad, my childhood best friend, peered over at me, his eyes bloodshot. He was dressed casually in blue jeans and a black t-shirt, while I was still dressed in my work clothes, black silk slacks and a white dress shirt. I usually dressed well when I went to clubs, flaunting the fact that I had money. "Why do you say that?
We were sitting in a popular bar, you know, one of the trash dens that the company doesn't want to see me in. After my explosive blowout with Dad, Brad called me, saying that he was having relationship problems in the form of his fiancée practically forcing him to give her an official wedding date. To make matters worse, the wedding she wanted was going to cost a fortune and would temporarily bankrupt him.
I'd told Brad that I would meet him and we could both talk about our problems.
"If she’s already calling the shots now," I told him, "then what do you think it's going to be like when you're married?"
Brad let out a groan and stared down into his glass with a forlorn expression. "Don't remind me, man. I'm already fucking stressed the hell out. I've only been working at the law firm for less than a year. How the fuck does she expect me to afford the kind of wedding that she wants?"
"What does she want?"
Brad made a sour face. "Everything. I mean, like, her family is huge. She has like ten sisters who must have a hundred little girls, and she wants every last one to be flower girls. She wants to rent out the Promade and have the wedding out on the lawn, complete with an orchestra, band and entertainment. Not to mention, she wants me to provide the clothing for all her immediate family."
I let out a low whistle.
"Tell me about it," Brad continued. "I don't know how Katie thinks we can afford it. I know I have a pretty good job, but damn, at least give on something. If it wasn’t for all our student loan debt, we could probably swing it.”
I signaled the bartender for another drink—a slender girl dressed in a cut-off top that bared her midriff. She smiled at me and scurried off to the mixer. She wanted my dick, I was sure of it, but I wasn't interested. I usually didn't go for girls who had tattoos, even though I had a couple myself. It was just one of my hypocrisies.
"Where does Katie work again?"
“She’s a groomer. She loves animals." Brad laughed. "Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she'd want me to dress the damn dogs in tuxes too."
"I feel your pain, brother," I said. I really didn't. Brad, I think, had fallen into a trap. After my one true relationship had failed, I'd lost belief in true love. Brad would wind up regretting getting married and getting stuck with kids, mark my words.
Of course, I didn’t want to tell him what I really felt, because I thought it would only piss him off. He had too much invested in this Katie chick at this point, and I've learned it's better to let people make their own mistakes rather than try to dissuade them.
The bartender chick walked over and placed my drink down before me. I reached into my pocket to pay for it when she stopped me.
"It's on the house, handsome," she purred at me with a wink and strutted away to serve some other drunk patron.
Brad shook his head and eyed me with disbelief. "Un-fucking believable. She all but bent over and asked you to fuck her."
"I'm glad she didn't," I said, grabbing the drink and turning it up. "She's not my type."
Brad stared at me. "You're an asshole, you know that?"
I didn't respond. Instead, I roved my eyes over the crowded bar. I saw plenty of girls, all dressed up with tons of makeup, and a few in fuck-me pumps, but none that interested me.
"So what's up with you?" Brad asked, making me turn my attention back to him. "I've never seen you turn up so many so quickly before. What's got you so bent outta’ shape?"
"My dad’s thinking about replacing me at the company."
Brad's jaw dropped. "You're shitting me."
I shook my head and proceeded to tell Brad everything. "They said I need to stop frequenting clubs, present one included, and picking up random chicks," I said as I got to the end of my tale. "And I should focus on cleaning up my image."
"I don't know, man. Maybe they're right," Brad said after a moment of thought. I should have known better than to try to get sympathy from him. "A man in your position should be held to a higher standard. Fucking a new slut every weekend doesn’t exactly scream professionalism."
"That's the thing," I said. "What I do on my own time is none of anyone else's business."
"True," Brad agreed. "But it is when it affects the business's image. I don't know how you can't see that. I mean, get a grip already, Tyler. You're not fucking nineteen anymore. You should be thinking about settling down and starting a family in a couple of years."
I swallowed back my anger. Brad should’ve had my back, but deep down, I knew he was right. "That will never happen. The family part, that is. And there's no way I'm going to stop fucking who I want, when I want."
Brad shook his head at me.
"In fact, just out of spite, I'm going to continue to do what I’ve been doing. Let them come for me. Fuck 'em."
"Seriously?"
"I just need you to represent me when they do." I rolled my shoulders. "Things are about to get ugly."
Brad went slack-jawed. "You want me to represent you against Armex?"
"Yeah. I'm going to call my dad's bluff. There's no fucking way I'm going to let him replace me without a fight. If the board votes on me, I'm going to sue their fucking pants off to take my half of the company."
I gave Brad a direct look. "And I'm going to need your help when I do." Truthfully, Brad was a newbie lawyer and didn’t have much experience under his belt, but he was absolutely brilliant, and I knew he’d fight for me harder than anyone else. If I was going to go toe-to-toe with my father, I wanted him on my side.
Brad stared at me a long time before letting out an explosive breath. "Alright, man," he said finally, "but I want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into if it comes down to that."
"Of course." I smiled at him and clasped his shoulder. "I knew you'd have my back."
Brad still looked sour. "It's just one more stressful situation to add on top of this God damn wedding."
"Let me handle it," I offered suddenly. Brad had agreed to represent me, which was no small thing, since Armex was armed to the teeth with high-powered lawyers. I wanted to reward his loyalty.
Brad immediately held his hands up in protest. "C'mon, man, you don't have to do that.”
"It's no problem," I insisted. "In fact, my position at the company affords me a lot of connections. I can get a designer to handle everything. Katie will love it."
Brad was in awe. "You'd do that?"
"Hell yeah, man. It's supposed to be the most special moment of your life. You deserve it."
Brad would never admit it, but I think he was getting slightly emotional on me because his eyes became watery. "Thanks, man, I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
I casually signaled the girl for another drink, and she practically abandoned a patron mid-order in her haste to serve me.
As I watched her sashay over to the mixer, I thought, maybe it's time to try something new.
She was over with my drink in a few seconds, setting it down before me. I gave her the look. The look I gave to all the girls before I'm ready to fuck them, and her body trembled slightly.
I threw back my drink and replied to Brad, "Don’t' sweat it."
Chapter 4
Victoria
"I have a client that needs a wedding gown designed," Christine said to me as I sat down her steaming mug of coffee on her desk. She was nosing through the latest catalogue. "He also needs fittings and measurements for about one hundred wedding guests."
That sounds like an awful amount of work.
I stepped back and folded my hands before me respectfully. "What client is this?" Steam from the coffe
e reached my nostrils and I felt slightly nauseated. I’d made coffee so much for Christine that I’d come to hate the smell of it.
I thought to myself, or maybe it's just her that I can't stand.
Christine glanced up at me as if annoyed by my daring to ask a question. "A young man by the name of Tyler Locklin, co-founder of a company called Armex. From what I hear, he's quite a scoundrel. And if the rumors are true, he'll be out of a job soon." Christine glanced down into her coffee. "However, that won't stop me from working with him. I happen to know his father, James, a very cold, calculating man with deep pockets. His son will be paying dearly for my talents."
I'd never heard of this guy, his father, or their company, and I was surprised Christine kept up with gossip outside of fashion. After all, she lived and breathed it. "Will I be working with him?" I ask.
Christine stared at me for a moment with surprise, and then burst out laughing in a way that made me clench my teeth together. "Oh no, you silly little girl. You'll be helping a small army of fitters and designers get the measurements right for the wedding guests. I've already called and have April and Gabe assembling the team. You'll go along and do everything April tells you to since . . .” Christine paused to look my red dress up and down critically. "she actually has fashion sense."
I clenched my fists. Christine really rubbed me the wrong way. Every day.
Just a little while longer, I told myself. And that door is going to open up.
"When do we start?"
Christine picked up her coffee and took a sip before replying. "Today."
"Holy shit," April swore as we stood outside the back of Finnerman's headquarters, a large corporate building in the middle of downtown. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
Despite Christine's annoying penchant for comparing me to her, I liked April. Unlike Christine, she was surprisingly level-headed and treated people like human beings. As Christine's head assistant, she was in charge of the more labor-intensive duties like the one we were about to embark on.
"No shit," Gabe, April's assistant, said. Isn't that funny? Even the head assistant to Christine has an assistant. Blonde, good-looking and armed with dimples, Gabe happened to be gay, which I'm sure had given more than a few girls heartache over his lifetime. He was dressed in simple jeans, dress shirt and a tie, his blonde hair gelled and spiky.
April shook her head. "I don't know what the hell she was thinking when she took on this client. We'll be swamped for days." April turned to me, biting her lower lip. "Vicky, I'm going to need more help from you than usual."
I eyed her with apprehension. "What kind of help?"
"Help keep track of the measurements, who’s been fitted, all that kind of stuff."
"And who’s the hottest guy packing the most heat," Gabe added in, brandishing a twelve-inch ruler that he randomly pulled out of his pocket. "After all, aren't we going there to do measurements?"
April and I cracked up and Gabe winked at us mischievously.
"So can I count on you?" April asked when we stopped laughing.
I sobered quickly. Despite knowing that I wouldn't be mistreated by April, somehow I knew this undertaking was going to leave me exhausted, overworked and under-appreciated. But what other choice did I have?
“Of course,” I replied.
Chapter 5
Tyler
"I'll be along to help you in just a minute, Mr. Locklin," said a girl who introduced herself as April. She was obviously in charge of the fitting operation. She was a small, mousey thing.
She was dressed in a flowing, flowery dress that reminded me of summer, her hair pulled back into a business-like ponytail. She was cute, in a wholesome, girl next door way, but she wasn’t my type.
Usually, if I can't imagine a girl's lips wrapped around my dick, I know she’s not for me.
Crossing my arms across my chest, I casually leaned against a column in the large reception hall with private dressing rooms I'd rented out for Brad's wedding and for him and his fiancée's family to use for the fittings. Both families would be stopping in and out all day to get measurements. "No problem," I told her. "Take your time."
She beamed at me for a moment before leaving off, shouting orders. I watched her in boredom, my thoughts wandering.
This is all so unnecessary, I thought to myself as I stared at all the hubbub of activity.
The sad thing is, what Katie wanted cost a fortune, even without hiring a top designer to design it all. Luckily for Brad, I was footing the bill. For me it was just a drop in the bucket. It was the least I could do.
Brad's fiancée had been very particular about what she wanted each and every person to wear, including me, Brad's best man.
Normally, I'd have told Brad to tell his fiancée to fuck off. My closet back at my penthouse was lined with top of the line tuxedos that would beat anything worn by men from either side of their families. I didn't have to wear something else just because Brad's prissy fiancée had control issues.
But it would be the best best day of his life, or the worst day, depending on which way you looked at it, so I felt I’d swallow my pride just this once just to make them both happy. I was doing this because I knew that if Katie was happy, Brad was happy, and life would be much easier for him.
There was also another reason why I decided to entertain Katie's power play. Charles Whitmore was supposed to be delivering a presentation in the boardroom today. To keep from losing my cool, I'd taken the day off and decided to come check out how my investment in Brad's wedding was coming along. I wouldn't be able to tolerate looking into the faces of the men who wanted to replace me and listen to Charles without wanting to smash their faces in.
As I continued to observe members of Brad and Katie's family filing through the hall, I noticed a girl with long, dirty-blonde hair that made my mouth go dry. With a clipboard clutched in her hands while she motioned someone over to the dressing room, she was wearing a tight red dress that emphasized her curvy frame and white heels. She had a pretty face, proportionate breasts and a nice ass.
After a moment, I couldn't help it and I found myself inching across the room to get closer. She was just finishing pointing someone over to a group of workers when I walked up.
"Busy directing the troops?" I asked.
She looked up at me as I towered over her, and her lips parted in surprise and then a blush brought color to her cheeks. I hid my grin.
She peered at her clipboard she was holding, probably to conceal her embarrassment, and then looked back at me. "Are you one of the wedding guests?" she asked. I liked her voice, soft but firm at the same time, really pleasant to the ears. Her eyes, which were a bright green color, captivated me with their vivaciousness.
"Yeah, the best man," I replied.
Surprise etched across her face. "Oh, oh," she said breathlessly. "April is going to want to do your measurements." She scribbled something down on her clipboard and then looked back at me. "What is your name?"
"Tyler Locklin."
A small gasp escaped her lips and I wondered what was wrong.
"Tyler Locklin?" she asked as if unsure of what she'd just heard.
"Yeah. Is that some sort of a crime?" I joked.
"No, not at all," she said quickly. "I just didn't expect for you to be here."
And I wouldn't be if it weren't for Brad's neurotic fiancée, I thought to myself.
"Someone's got to make sure everything is going to plan," I said. I really liked the girl's lips. They were sassy and sensual, and I knew I had to have her.
At that moment, April chose to walk over. "I can help you now, Mr. Locklin. If you would just come right this way—”
"Actually," I interrupted. I looked over the blonde girl and quickly caught her name tag. Victoria. "Victoria here was going to help me with my measurements."
I even like her name.
A shocked expression marred Victoria's pretty face. "I was?"
I nodded. "That's what we were just talking about, remember?"
Victoria opened her mouth to protest further, but I gave her a look that made her pause.
"That was supposed to be my job," said April. She looked disappointed as she eyed me.
"I know, but Victoria and I go way back. I think I'll be most comfortable taking my pants off in front of her." It was hard not to laugh as Victoria's eyes grew as wide as saucers.
"Wow, I didn't know you knew Mr. Locklin, Victoria." April chewed on her bottom lip, debating with herself. "Fine," she said finally. "If that's what you prefer, Mr. Locklin, I'm sure Victoria will be more than happy to accommodate."
"It is . . . and she will," I replied with confidence. I turned to Victoria and offered her my arm, unable to keep myself from smirking. "If you’d just lead the way, Miss Victoria."
Victoria was flustered, her cheeks a dark shade of red as she glanced back and forth between April and me. After a moment, she finally took my arm and began to lead me toward the dressing rooms.
April tried to mutter under her breath to Victoria as we walked off, but I still managed to catch what she said. "You’d better not screw this up, Vicky."
"Why did you lie to her?" Victoria demanded as soon as we were out of earshot. She let go of my arm and put distance between us. I wasn't worried. She'd be begging for it before I was done with her.
"Because you look like the girl for the job."
She scowled at me, her cheeks turning crimson. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Just that it looks like you can handle big things."
Victoria appeared speechless and it was hard not to laugh.
"My size," I clarified. "I'm a pretty tall guy."
I wondered if her face would remain permanently red as she simply said, "Oh."
We made it to a vacant dressing room and stepped inside. Victoria closed the door behind us. There were a bench, a mirror and a hanger rack in the room. She walked over and sat her clipboard down on the bench and then turned to face me with measuring tape.
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