Papers for Roses

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Wade

"Do I have to be the one to think about it, Ms. O' Shea?"

Rianna O' Shea, his personal assistant, lowered her gaze as Wade stared at her with fire in his blue eyes. "No, sir. It's my job," she muttered under her breath.

"No? Then what are you still doing here?" His voice raised an octave, creating a faint echo inside his office. "Get the hell out of here and do your damn job. I want them on my table before five."

"Of course, sir—"

"Out, now!"

The poor woman scurried out of his door before he could finish his sentence. As the door slid closed behind her, the rush of guilt immediately flowed through his veins, diluting the anger and tiredness he was feeling. His palms scrubbed his face furiously before he stood up on his seat.

The wide expanse of Central Park—with the blue skies, gleaming skyscrapers and greenery below—did nothing to completely calm his fraying nerves. Daniel had delivered the profiles of the first twenty women he found and it made him furious.

Not with Daniel, no.

Furious with himself that he had to do all of this. Furious with himself that he was appearing desperate to anyone who might know about this. Most of all, furious with himself that he couldn't turn his back on his father... and his Ma.

He had been on edge these past few days, and saying that it greatly affected his performance at work was putting it mildly. He had barked at his employees for the smallest things, he barely had anything done and he had little to no sleep.

He could blame it on Daniel for not finding any woman that he felt some connection with. After all, a tiny connection wouldn't hurt a fake marriage, would it? But he couldn't. Because Daniel had, in fact, done an excellent job.

The women were all part of the higher society, had respectable careers and clean records. They were all gorgeous, too. But no one had felt right. He couldn't name it, but something was missing. Something that would make a woman speak to him by just looking at her profile.

Wade let out an exasperated breath and clicked on the intercom, "Get Daniel Monroe on the line."

"Right away, sir." Not a minute later, the intercom buzzed. "Mr. Monroe is on line 1."

He picked up the phone without saying his thanks. Daniel's groggy and slightly annoyed voice filtered the speaker. His next words chased away some of Wade's bad mood. "Dude, have you forgotten that I'm doing the dirty work for you at night? It's fucking 10 am. My mind would be available at 11. Call you back."

"Hold up. This is going to be quick."

Daniel sighed loudly. "Shoot."

"The women," Wade began, searching for the right words. "I don't like them." Way to go, Wade. "I think we should change tactics."

"Okay, you officially woke me up. One 'fuck you' point for you." Wade snickered. "Explain."

"All of them seemed living in their trust funds. I want someone more down-to-earth."

"Met some of them. They seemed nice."

"I want someone natural."

"Some of them were."

"I want someone less... high-maintenance."

Daniel laughed, seeming to find his words amusing. "All right, all right. I'll find someone not living in her trust fund, down-to-earth, natural and less high-maintenance. Got it."

Wade nodded, delighted with himself. "Great." Nodding again, he said, "Awesome."

As he hung up the phone, Wade sat back on his chair and placed his elbow on the table, his chin rested on both of his knuckles. The clock kept ticking away in the distance, but his mind remained focus on the task at hand. But then, he quickly realized that it was hopeless and he should only wait.

So he began to fiddle with the paper works on his table, hoping to catch up on some work. Yet, as he started reading the letters typed against the white sheet, his father's words rang on his mind.

I will die, Wade. I have nothing left to lose, his father often said. But this thing you called shit, it's the last thing that will help me and your mother sleep in peace.

Wade couldn't help but frown. The idea of his father dying after years of check-ups and million-dollar medicines later still felt surreal. How could someone as human as a doctor could predict someone's death like that? Would Benjamin really terminate Simon Inc. because of his guilt?

He huffed in frustration. Why should he be the one to help him sleep in peace? He could have done it alone! If he wasn't so much of a selfish husband. But either way, Wade wasn't his father. He already made up for his mom before she died. Hell, all his life he had been by his mom's side. And this? He didn't need to do this but he should. Because all those foundations of care and love would crumble into pieces, because Simon Inc. was where it all started and where it should stay.

Wade stood abruptly, as his focus was directed yet again on another thing that wasn't work.

This should be irrelevant for him right now. His mother already died and his father should concentrate on getting better or repenting for his sins. Not on devising a plan to have his son help him pay for them.

A buzz on the intercom broke into his temporary daze and Rianna's voice washed away the provoking silence. "Some mail arrived from Harris & Co."

He cleared his throat, curiosity winning out against his temper. "Send it in."

Rianna walked in with a small, black envelope with gold intricate patterns on its edges. She placed it on the table and walked out with nothing but a nod. Wade's guilt from his earlier tantrum reared its ugly head as she noticed Rianna had kept her head down, refusing eye contact. He was never this difficult with his employees before.

The envelope was taunting him, though.

It was an invitation to Bryan Harris' birthday party. Included in the envelope was the party's program, list of guests and the sponsors. It seemed huge and promising, not that he expected anything less. The Harrises was one of the oldest and richest dynasties in New York.

An idea popped in his head and he didn't know whether he should be proud or crept out with himself. But as he rolled it around his mind, the more it sounded better and feasible.

Where else could I find my potential wife, aside from an elitist's party?

x Lol. He's getting closer. x