Marriage of Convenience Read Free

athletic, interesting, and let’s be honest, one of the wealthiest men in the world. And you’re no stick in the mud. You travel the world, sail frequently, and fly your own plane. And all of that with a great sense of humor.” Gloria paused and inhaled deeply. “I cannot believe this is going to be a problem. Now, we haven’t discussed children—though you adore ours—but for many successful women children are negotiable.” Gloria laughed easily. “How could you not find a wife? In fact, this could be fun!”
    Malcolm took in her assessment of himself, and though he was inclined to agree, there was still the very real problem that he wasn’t dating anyone. If fact, he hadn’t dated anyone with real potential recently and honestly didn’t have a clue of how to begin solving his problem. And he definitely didn’t see the humor in it.
    “Malcolm, this isn’t a problem. You just need the right introductions. Time will do its thing, and you’ll have the woman of your dreams.”
    “Time? Time is not on my side here, Gloria.”
    “Malcolm, you’re being melodramatic. Listen, babe, Denzel’s birthday is next month. I’ve started making plans. I’ll make it a double duty extravaganza, and we’ll find you a partner.”
    “Next month? Gloria, were you listening?” Malcolm tried to keep the exasperation from his voice. Gloria’s use of “babe” indicated to him that she was trying to calm him, trying to understand his dilemma. But clearly they were not on the same page yet.
    “Sunday, Gloria, Sunday. I have to be married by Sunday.” Malcolm fell into the chair behind his desk as he spoke the words as if just by saying them he was physically weighed down by the impossible task of identifying, meeting, romancing, and marrying a woman in less than a week.
    “Sunday? This Sunday?” Gloria asked incredulously.
    “Yes. This Sunday. Help me.” Malcolm whined into the silence.
    “Ok. I need to think. Let me call you back, Malcolm. Don’t freak out. We’ll fix this.”
    Nearly jumping out of the chair, eyes wide, Malcolm cried, “No! Wait! Don’t hang….” But his words were answered by a dial tone. Slouching further into the supple leather, Malcolm closed his eyes. With his elbows resting on the edge of his desk, he steepled his fingers and pressed them under his lower lip, letting them support the weight of his head.
    Cursing his father yet again, he racked his brain for a solution. Over the last year he’d been on four dates.
    Sylvia was a pediatrician. Her office was three floors above his own. He wouldn’t term the experience a disaster, but it had been damn close. He’d seen her in the cafeteria a few times and liked what he saw. She seemed light and funny. She had a lithe body and graceful movements. He hadn’t known much else, but wasn’t that what dating was for? He hadn’t asked anyone out since college, so he admitted to himself that he’d been rusty. Still, he should have known. She’d said yes to his offer of dinner, smiling and interested. They’d made arrangements over email throughout the day, and he’d been looking forward to the evening. He made reservations at Cipriani and offered to pick her up. She’d declined, indicating she liked to walk before and after dinner to aid digestion. Understandable. She’d arrived talking on her cell phone. She sat down at the table and continued to talk on the phone. The waiter had appeared, and she had given her order while on the phone. Malcolm had finished his salad and was working on his entree by the time she apologized for the call. She had explained that her ex-lover was in a crisis and needed a shoulder. He’d smiled to make a show of understanding, but inwardly he’d begun to doubt their future. He was beyond doubt and into certainty after she spent the remainder of dinner discussing her ex-lover’s problems and expressing her desire to get through the meal so that she could pay him a visit. Malcolm had been relieved when she’d