“Life is no fairytale”

“I hear things became quite rowdy in Guildford.”

Simon Grey glanced up from his desk, at his long-time friend, Blaine Richards who lazily leaned up against the door frame. Shrugging, he continued rifling through more papers, studying the figures.

“You were there, were you not?”

“You know very well that I was, Blaine.”

“Well? Did you find trouble, my friend?”

Simon’s grey eyes shot him a warning look before writing something down on one of the papers.

A sigh, followed by heavy footsteps, alerted Simon that his friend was approaching his desk. “I know why you went there. No woman is worth the trouble, not even Miss Williams, in all her glory.”

Simon tossed his papers upon his desk, looking at his friend. “It isn’t what you think. I needed to clear my mind, and I went there to do it.”

“Yes, I know. But you usually clear your mind in less than amicable ways, so I find myself curious.”

“That is your problem.”

So you did not fight, then?” Blaine inquired, ignoring the brush-off and lifting a dark brow.

“Blaine, I do have work to do, and so do you. Get to it.”

“Simon, we cannot afford for you to lose your head over a woman and scuffle with random-

“Blast it all, Blaine! I told you I did not go to fight. Take me for my word! I’m no longer the schoolboy you first met. I realize that not everything can be solved with fists!” he finished.

            Blaine gave him a curt nod, placing a hand on his shoulder before leaving his office.

            After he left, Simon whispered an expletive, and began massaging his temples. There were up and down sides to having a close friend; Blaine always watched out for him, and since they were young, had been as brothers. At the same time, Blaine knew entirely too much about him. With a past like his, that could be dangerous, but Simon trusted Blaine with his life. A wry smile touched his lips, when he thought of all the fights he would get into as a young boy, because of some jab made by others about his upbringing.

            Never one to back down from a fight, or give up in one; he’d often come home with a broken hand, bloody face, or broken nose. As an adolescent, his size was his advantage; not because he was large, for he was far from it, then. It was because his lithe body gave his opponents a false sense of triumph; he could see it in their eyes, and he took advantage of their poor judgment. Years of fighting his way through life caused him to grow accustomed to take beatings, and it wasn’t long before he became an adept fighter, himself. As the years passed, sinewy muscles slowly took form on the scrawny boy he’d once been, and he became a formidable foe to anyone who sought trouble with him.

            As grown men, Blaine and Simon had built up a profitable shipping business, and were making quite a name for themselves. The B&S shipping company had been well established for seven years.

            Three quick raps on the door drew his attention as Henry, an employee, cracked the door, poking his head inside. “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir. There’s someone ‘ere to see ye.’

            Simon looked over his paper littered desk, irritation flourished as he realized that he wasn’t going to get much accomplished. “Who is it, Henry? I have much to do today,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t have time-“

            “It’s Miss Williams, sir.”

            Simon paused. “Send her in.”

            After a quick nod, Henry disappeared, and a short time later, he heard another light tap on his door.

            “Enter.”

            The door pushed open, and Miss Catalina Williams walked through the door; her violet gown bustling in after her. Simon’s liquid silver eyes studied her, roamed across her delicate features, and took in her elegantly twisted brunette hair before dragging his gaze away and focusing on his papers.

            “What can I do for you, Miss Williams?”

            “Don’t. Don’t do that,” she said coming forward.

            A sardonic brow lifted, and he reclined in his chair, interlacing his fingers. “Do what?”

            “I am sorry,” she said, bracing her feminine hands upon his desk. “Lord Bracey takes an interest, and mother and father wish to see me well connected.”

            “Then by all means, connect.”

            “I would much rather spend my time with you then Lord Bracey,” she boldly declared.

            “I find myself quite surprised at the declaration since your demeanor when you were with him a few weeks past proved quite the opposite.”

            Annoyed, Miss Williams turned away from his desk to look out the window at the passersby strolling in the vicinity of the area.

            “I must follow my parent’s dictates, do you not see that?”

“Rubbish. You have a mind of your own, Cate, you always have. What you follow is your nose for money-“

            “And what is wrong with that?” she asked, whipping around, her large brown eyes flashing angrily. “I want to be well settled too! Is that such a terrible thing, then?”

            Simon quietly studied her before responding; “I am not a pauper. I have done quite well here,” he stated, motioning to his office. “I’m well able to take care of a wife and five orphans, leaving them a good sized dowry, if I so choose. Your excuses are pitiful drivel, Miss Williams.”

            Eyes downcast, she sighed, and finally met his intense gaze once more; straightening. “I do not wish to banter with you, so let us change the subject. Are you attending the Smyth’s soiree this week?”

            “I haven’t decided.”

“It would make me feel very content, should you decide to attend,” she hinted with a half-smile.

“Take comfort in the fact that Lord Bracey shall be in attendance. Pray he stays away from the spirits; otherwise he shall stand out as a rose among the lilies.”

            Pearl earrings dangled as she shook her head at him, walking towards his desk. She leaned in towards him, staring into his eyes. “You act as if I have no hold over you; you and I both know that is far from the case. I will see you at the party,” she confidently declared. “And if you are fortunate, I may even dance with you.” At that she turned away from him, not sparing a glance, as she walked out of the door.

            Moments after her departure, the tantalizing aroma of her perfume still clung to the air in the office, and Simon sported a fierce scowl. Like a moth drawn to a flame he was drawn to Miss Catalina Williams, and lately he would much rather cut out his own weak heart then give her the satisfaction of joining the long string of simpering dogs that she’d acquired thus far and getting burned in the end.

            His office door opened again, followed by the sound of someone sniffing about the room.

            “Stop it, Blaine,” he ordered without looking up from his desk.

            “Why did you let her in? The woman always manages to tie you in knots. You could really have your pick, but-“

            “Now we both know that isn’t true, don’t we?”

            “Trust me, in hindsight you will see that you and Miss Williams do not suit. She is entirely too selfish and spoilt. You are much better off choosing from the flocks of debutantes that are already laid out under your feet.”

            “Blaine-“

            “I understand,” Blaine continued, holding up a hand. “You love a challenge. But beyond that, do you really have feelings for that chit?”

            Simon’s eyes narrowed on his friend, slicing him bit by bit. “Did you come in here for a purpose? Or did you simply wish to gossip like an old codfish?”

            “She’s left you quite jolly, as usual, I see.”

            Simon gave him a dead stare.

            “I wanted you to see this,” he quickly stated, remembering his business. Simon took the papers from him, brows furrowed as he scanned some figures.

            “This can’t be right.”

            “I thought the same myself when the secretary brought them in to me. But I assure you,” Blaine said, nodding towards the paperwork. “Everything is in order.”

            “We were doing well,” Simon stated, almost to himself. “How is this possible?

            “I don’t know, my friend,” Blaine replied. “My guess, however, is that we’ve been swindled by an employee. Here is a list of people that have quit within the last six months,” he told him, extending another sheet of paper. “And at this moment, I fear the worst.”

            Simon’s head jerked up, meeting Blaine’s steady scrutiny. “We will go under,” he said, reading Blaine’s thoughts.

            “Yes. We will go under, and be completely broke, unless, by some miracle someone is able to save us from ruin.”

            Simon turned away from his friend, smiling bitterly. When in his life had anyone come to save the day? The truth was, it never happened. And it never would. A lesson he learned as a young boy stuck with him throughout the years, and it was one that he was powerless to forget. Life, or rather his life, would never be a fairytale.