CHAPTER ONE - Encounter


I honestly don't know how my story became this complicated, but somehow it just did. Somewhere along the way of me being paid to be Gabe's girlfriend, I fell in love.

You might mutter to yourself, "Oh God no, not another one of these stories." But you see, I didn't fall in love with Gabe. I fell in love with his married older brother.

So what do I do now? Honestly, I have no idea but let's just start at the beginning when I met Gabe.

It was about a year ago when I first met him at a local radio station. I was an intern and he was just visiting his ex girlfriend, who broke up with him because I don't really give a fuck.

There he was trying to talk some sense into her, when she slammed the bathroom door on his face and refused to come out as long as she was breathing the same air as Gabe did. I guess she'll stay there forever, unless she'll fly off to some other planet.

"You better leave." I said, offering a small comforting smile. "Maybe she'll be more social tomorrow." I'm not flirting, mind you, and I'm not being friendly either. I just want him to leave so I can urinate in the goddamn bathroom.

He ignored me and continued knocking on the door. "Monica, look… Just one more night please! I just can't break it to my parents yet. Maybe we can fight at the dinner and break it off there."

"We've already broken off, you asshole!" Monica screamed behind the door. From her voice, I can tell that she's really frustrated now than she was an hour ago. "Leave me alone so I can be at peace! Find some other girl."

"I already told them your name was Monica! If you would just listen to me! And I already showed them your Facebook profile! They're familiar with your face. What will I do when they'll ask me tomorrow why you're not there?"

The door unlocked. An angry Monica came out, ready to shoot daggers into this guy. "Are you stupid or something?" She hissed, glaring at him. "I am not going, okay! And I don't care if your goddamn allowance gets cut off, or you get exiled from your home. I am not going. And that's final." Before he could say anything to change her mind, she stomped out of the room and slammed the glass door behind her.

I hurried to the bathroom, when he blocked me. I raised a brow at him. "Yes?" I inquired, not really interested in making small talk with my bladder about to blow.

"Can you help me please?"

"Uhh – can I go into the bathroom and urinate first?" I grinned, and then I pushed him aside and got inside. Goddamn Monica, what kind of idiots does she take for her boyfriends? Seriously, last month ago, a guy parked his car directly outside our office and didn't stop honking his car until she got out and talked to him. She didn't; we had to call the police to get him to shut up.

I wondered how this one will end as I sat on the toilet. Maybe Monica will talk to this one if he persevered enough. He wasn't ugly; in fact, he was kind of hot in a neat, orderly way. Typical, school-boy looks. Preppy school boy. I wonder how they broke up though.

A knock on my door disturbed my thoughts. "Are you done?" He asked.

"Patience is a virtue." I replied, pulling my panties up. I just met him and he was being bossy. Maybe that's why they broke up. After three months of working together with Monica, I knew that she wasn't the one to be bossed around.

"Well, it's not my virtue." He snapped.

I couldn't believe this guy! Monica was right to break up with him! No manners at all. Is this how men are raised now? Can't he see that I'm using the bathroom? It's only natural for women to stay inside the bathroom for hours. Well, two can play this game.

Closing the toilet lid before I sat on it and started playing games on my phone, we'll see just how long he can wait out there. Hah, we just met – no, we haven't even been introduced – and here he goes, thinking he can just order me around like a helpless little bitch. I was starting my second game of Temple Run after getting a score of 5 million when another knock came.

"Are you having constipation or diarrhea…" He said, "Or are you masturbating?"

I blushed and quickly got out of the bathroom. "Look, mister, we don't know each other, okay? We are not close –" I said, "It's not nice that you go around bossing me to hurry up and go out just because it suits you. I don't even know who you are."

He offered his hand out at me. "Hi, I'm Gabe Henderson." When I didn't offer my hand, he grabbed my hand and gave it a shake. "Nice to meet you. And you are?"

I pulled my hand back. "Uhh, I'm Nicole."

He smiled. "Great! Now that we know each other, let's talk."

I shrugged. "About what?"

"Life, as we know it." He replied, still smiling.


Gabe took a long sip from his dark coffee before he started to talk. He took me to a coffee shop just three blocks away from the office, so we'd have some privacy he says. "Are you familiar with Henderson Hotels and Entertainment Corporation?" He said, adding cream into his coffee.

I gave it a thought. As a girl being from Ohio, I was not that familiar with the companies in New York. "I think I've heard about it somehow." I said, "I've only been in New York for a year."

He scoffed. "We are international, baby."

I gaped. "You own it? Seriously?" Now I get it, that's why he was so bossy. He was raised to be bossy.

"Well, the problem is that," He said, blushing. "I'm gay."

I spit out the coffee I was drinking, and coughed. "You're .. gay?" I said, my voice shrill.

"YES!" He said, clapping his hands. "My family doesn't know this, of course. My grandparents are against gay people and so are my own parents. I'll be exiled! And left, penniless."

He grabbed my two hands into his. "You have got to help me! I'll pay you! I'll pay you to be my girlfriend!"

I snatched my hands back. "You don't look gay."

He smirked. "Honey, there are two kinds of gay men – the feminine type and the masculine type. I happen to be the latter part. I've kept my little secret well."

"I don't believe that you're gay."

"Oh, please! You can even begin to think about how many men I've brought into my bed," He said, "And the wicked things we do in it." He took another long sip from his coffee while I continued studying him.

He just didn't look gay to me. I've had gay friends, best friends even, back in Ohio so I'd probably know what a gay person is. I just couldn't believe it. Even his temper was masculine. His dark blonde hair, ruffled in a messy exciting way was masculine. His smell screamed masculine. His toned body stated that he was a straight male who did sports, maybe soccer or surfing. And the way his cobalt eyes looked at you, like he was imagining you naked.

He just doesn't seem gay.

"I'm having a hard time." I said, rubbing my temples. "I can't decide whether you are saying the truth or just pulling my leg so I'd help you."

He laughed as he slowly placed his cup back into the table. "You're cute." He said as his blue eyes searched into my own hazel ones, "I can tell that you don't trust many people, and that you're intelligent. You follow what you're guts tell you."

"I guess they taught you how to read people so you'd avoid being tricked by gold diggers." I replied, smiling. "Tell you what, I'll think about it."

"Suits me fine," He stated, "As long as, you'll tell me your decision first thing tomorrow morning. I need you at 7 in the evening, you know."

"Yeah, okay." I said, smiling. "I think I need to go back to the office now, Gabe."

He waved a hand at me. "Goodbye. I'll call you."

"Aren't you going to drive me back? Since you did take me out."

He smirked. "You haven't agreed to be my girlfriend yet, so you can walk back. I have to go somewhere." He stood up and smiled at me before he quickly walked towards the door.

I gawked at his back as I watched him start his car and drive off into the high way. What an asshole. I'm starting to believe he's truly gay.


When I got home that night, I immediately jumped into my bed and exhaled. Ahh, finally! I was home where I could relax and sleep and forget all my worries. I lived alone in a small apartment which overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge. It wasn't big, and it wasn't small too. It was just right for a college student, trying to start her own independent life.

My life in Ohio wasn't what you'd call memorable. My family owned a farm, where we harvest crops like corn and rice during the fall season. My mother wanted me to take up a business course to aid in the productivity of the business, but I didn't want to, so here I was taking up Journalism.

My mother didn't support my dreams though. She just sends me a couple of hundred bucks every three or four months, or just every time she'd remember she had a daughter interning in New York. It doesn't happen often.

I got a scholarship which landed me at NYU.

My phone rang.

Ignoring the urge to ignore it, I rolled to the side and picked up the phone on the bedside table. "Hello?" I spoke into the receiver.

"Nikki, it's me, Polly."

Polly was our neighbor of 3 hectares away. I remember Polly being cheerful and loud as she skipped though the houses in the district to deliver fresh cow's milk. We never spoke. Smiling at each other seemed enough.

"Oh, hello, Polly. I'm surprised you called. What's the matter?"

She sobbed. "I'm calling in behalf of your mother. She said that she won't be able to send you anything for at least a year. Some wild Buffalos of the sort rampaged into the Barn last night. A horse was killed in the stampede, and your brother was injured."

I gasped. "Really? How is he?"

"He's fine, don't worry. He broke his limbs, but the doctors said he'd be able to walk for in about 6 months or so.. if he undergoes therapy. So the money she'll be sending you, will be used for the therapy. She said she has no more to spare."

I groaned. "Oh, I see. I have a message for my mother. Can I talk to her?"

There was whispering at the other line. "She's rather busy. I'm calling you from the hospital."

"Okay, then can you give this message to her then?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"There are no Buffalos in Ohio." I slammed the phone into its place and growled. Ugh! Like I can't understand that she doesn't want to support me anymore because I didn't take up her beloved business course, what I hate was that she had to make excuses – unbelievable ones – just so she'd get away with it.

"Well," I muttered to myself, "I don't need your support. I don't need anybody. I just need myself."

What kind of mother does this? A selfish one, that's for sure. I remember what she told me on the day I was leaving for New York. It was raining that day, so she was in a bit of a good mood. She was rocking in her chair and listening to the Blues when I kissed her goodbye. She glanced up at me with a smile and said, "You're not going to make it, dear."

I didn't say anything but I immediately left. And I never came back. Not on Christmas breaks, summer breaks, any breaks at all. I worked my ass off in some Diner or some office for two years. And here I was, finally, an intern.

My cell phone rang. It was Gabe Henderson. Well, goddamn timing! I picked it up, "Hello, Gabe Henderson. Miss me so soon?"

"Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I had this urge to call you because I think I can't wait for your answer until tomorrow morning." A pause. "I'm not a patient person you know."

I scoffed. "Yes, I know."

Silence.

"Yes, I'll do it." I said finally with a sigh.

"Excellent! I'll pick you up first thing tomorrow." He said. I can tell that he was glad this was my decision.

"I thought you said 7 in the evening?"

He snickered. "Have you seen yourself? We are going shopping. Bye."

Busy dial tone.

"Goddamn it." I groaned, tossing my phone into my bed. What the hell was I getting myself into?


GOOD DAY GUYS! THANKS FOR REACHING `TIL THE END OF THIS CHAPTER. SO, FEEDBACK PLEASE? :) How did you find my story? Is it interesting? Is it worth continuing? :)

I'm open for advices and whatever you'd like to write!

Xoxo,

K