Chapter 2 Perturbed

Chapter Two

It has been like a century since his conversation with Graham, but in actual truth; it was barely a week since Graham ordered him to get married. A week when he constantly sent annoying messages as a reminder of his threat.

Daniel was no longer settled. Deeply disturbed and unstable, he leaned forward a bit, his forehead rested on the steering wheel with his eyes closed. Thought of how to maneuver his way out of this mess kept eluding him. There was only one thing to do which was - meeting Dylan.

Dylan, a thirty-six-year-old guy, was a bachelor like him. A multi-billionaire and CEO of a "Beauty clash", one of the most famous fashion house in New York City. He was a dark guy with a body that constantly left ladies in awe.

Dylan had always been acknowledged as the only matured man who knew how to critically analyze an issue, think of a solution and execute it. Determined, Daniel glanced up from his melancholy position. Eyes quickly scanning the white mansion before him.

Earlier when he woke up, the planned had been - head to work, attend meetings with stakeholders and returned home. At the last minute, he had changed his mind. Driving to Dylan's place, the possibility of Dylan's absence at home perturbed him. Uncertainty of how Dylan will take the news but hopefully, there was bound to be a solution.

He dragged his tired body out of the car, strolling lazily towards the front door. He rang the bell, inwardly praying Dylan to be at home on a working day like this.

The door opened with a loud, jovial voice of Dylan. At that juncture, his problems vanished into thin air. He couldn't stop the smile tugging at the corner of his lips from exploding into a wide grin.

"Men! What a wonderful surprise! What the heck? You didn't say you will be bringing your fucking self to my humble abode."

His American accent resonated loudly even outside as he pulled him in for a hug.

"Sorry, man. I didn't mean to drop in like an uninvited visitor. Something consequential popped up." Daniel apologized.

Something about his tone must have given Dylan an insight to how vital the situation seemed to be. Getting dis-entangled from the hug, both stared directly at each other, holding gaze as though searching the dept of one's soul. Dylan's face filled with concern for him.

"You don't necessarily have to apologize for coming without calling. My home is also yours. So what's wrong? Your tone fretted me earlier." Dylan managed to say without a smile before frowning.

"Damn my moronic brain. I am supposed to offer you something, not bombarding you with questions!"

Dylan smiled as he led him fully inside, shutting the door behind him.

Unconsciously, Daniel reclined on the couch with his legs on the sofa arms. Feeling comfortable, he looked around, noting the difference and changes which had taken place since his last visit. One thing was obviously obvious, Dylan had great taste.

"Get me a glass of water!" Daniel called after Dylan, who went to the wine cellar which was situated closed to the dinning.

"This is your second home, Daniel. You know every crook and crannies of this place. Besides, you're not a visitor, so get your ass off that couch to the kitchen for a glass of water. If not, you're going to die of thirst!"

Men! This was something he missed in Dylan so much. He missed this moment of them bantering, exchanging words like kids.

Sitting upright, Daniel stared at Dylan who stood in the dining room with a bottle and a glass of wine. "Shit! I thought you've changed!"

Dylan only shrugged as a replied.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Daniel saw Dylan pressed a bell in the center of the dining table. Immediately, a beautiful young lady walked in from the kitchen. "Get my friend a glass of water." Dylan ordered icily, not sparing a single glance at the lady.

"Who is she?" Daniel asked quietly as Dylan drew closer, offering him a glass of wine with a sneer.

"That's Patricia, my chef."

Chef? The word rang falsely in his ears. Why the hell did Dylan employ the services of a chef when he could cook?

"Why?" He asked, niggling at the back of his mind.

Moving to seat opposite Daniel on the gold coach, Dylan smiled as comprehension of Daniel's thought set in. "Why what? Why a chef? Come on, I've got absolutely no time to prepare my meal, and I am tired of eating junk food."

The lady walked in at the moment, forcing Daniel to swallow back his words. Her bluish eyes gazed up at him. "Your water, Sir"

Cool, soft tone humbled him as her eyes unconsciously checked Patricia out. Her curves were really pronounced behind the blue jeans she wore. Her skin looked soft and smooth as silk. Furthermore, her lips were reddish and tempting. How in the hell did Dylan resist such a temptress?

"Thank you. You," Daniel stammered incoherently. Without another word, she walked out.

Dylan burst into a boisterous laughter, forcing Daniel's eyes to deviate from Patricia's receding figure to him.

"Dude, that lady is such a temptress. You should have seen your look as you checked her out." He laughed.

"It's not what you think, Dylan. Do me a fucking favor and get your mind out of the gutter!"

"Yeah, it's out of the gutter." Dylan mocked, still amused by Daniel's action.

"The is no harm in admiring God's creation. Is there?" Daniel inquired innocently, trying to conceal his defensive tone.

"No dear," with a sigh, Dylan quickly changed the topic. His knee crossed over each other with his upper body leaning back. "You had an issue. What was wrong?"

Daniel sighed, recalling the mess Graham got him into. His mood must have sobered, because Dylan sat up with keen interest.

"I have only Seven days to get married or lose my inheritance to Mark."

Dylan snarled. "Hell! Marriage? Losing of inheritance? What fucking shitty talk was that?"

Calmly, he explained the situation to Dylan, watching as his expression changed from calm to pain to fury.

"What the heck? This is consequential. What do you intend doing?"

"I've got no idea," Daniel confessed with an atom of sincerity. He didn't even have a woman in his life. How was he supposed to be married in seven days' time? The frustration was inevitable.

"You can marry Patricia!"