2. Grant

Chapter 2

Grant

"Why are you here?" I grumble under my breath, deep-rooted frustration bubbling in my chest at my younger brother's unexpected visit in the middle of my busy workday. He may live a life of leisure, recklessly squandering our parents' hard-earned inheritance on expensive wine and women, but I prefer to carve out a meaningful existence as a productive member of society. Gareth wouldn't know anything about that.

Gareth's expression shines with enthusiasm as he drops a silver embossed business card on my desk. The metallic sheen of the card catches the light and reflects it in dancing patterns across my eyes.

Bewildered by his gesture, I lift the card and read the three words aloud, marveling at the elegant font and intricate design. "The Secret Garden." My brows furrow with confusion. Images of lush green foliage and colorful blooms fill my mind, sparking curiosity about what this means. "Are you starting a new profession?" I ask, surprised by his sudden desire to work. "I've never taken you for a man with a green thumb." As I wait for his response, I study his face for any hints or clues to this mysterious invitation, but all I see is a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't work," Gareth scoffs with disgust. "This isn't a landscaping business, big brother. The Secret Garden is an exclusive sex club, something straight out of your wildest fantasies." His disingenuous smile appears out of place. Who the hell does he believe he's talking to?

"Those are not my kind of fantasies." The words come out of my mouth with a sneer, betraying my disbelief. I feel my jaw clench in anger at his audacity. After all, I pride myself on being a law-abiding citizen— I've never even received a parking ticket. "I have absolutely no interest in brothels." My moral compass would never allow it. Anger bubbles within me as I add, "Please leave before I have you thrown out."

"It's not a brothel," Gareth exclaims, throwing his hands up in frustration. "For Christ's sake, I know how much you love your work, but it wouldn't kill you to get out once in a while. You're a forty-four-year-old man who devotes every waking moment to this company with no one to pass it on to." His gestures are animated, as if he's giving a sales pitch rather than having a genuine conversation. There's no way he's suddenly interested in my personal life. He clearly needs something from me and is using this ploy to get it.

With a heavy sigh, I push away from my cluttered desk and cross my legs, bringing my ankle to rest on my opposite knee. My posture radiates impatience as I stare at my younger brother. "What do you want?" I demand, my tone oozing annoyance. "Enough with the games, just spit it out so I can get back to work," I gesture toward the papers scattered on my desk. The tension in the room is palpable, and I feel my muscles tensing as I await his response.

Gareth paces back and forth, his boots thudding against the hardwood floor. His hands are balled into fists, trembling as he tries to contain his anxiety. He lifts a hand to his mouth and begins gnawing on his nails, a nervous habit he's had since childhood. "My membership is under review," he blurts out, his voice strained. "I've been going weekly for the past six months, a devoted member who has spent thousands every visit. And now, because of one tiny incident, they may kick me out." A bead of sweat trickles down his forehead as he pleads his ridiculous case.

My eyes roll involuntarily as my brother finally cuts through the small talk and gets to the point. But even now, I don't feel any closer to understanding what any of this has to do with me. "What did you do?" I ask, trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice.

"That's beside the point." Gareth dismissively waves a hand. "It's nothing illegal or dishonorable. Just a disagreement with another member. But it seems they value him more than me." He pauses, a hint of bitterness in his tone before continuing, "They were about to revoke my membership when I had a brilliant idea. I suggested that you would make an excellent addition as a member, but you'd never consider it if they kicked out your brother. To my surprise, that worked. If I take you there this Friday and persuade you to join, they'll comp my fees and make me a platinum member. Don't you understand what that means?"

"Yes, I do. It seems you'll need to find another garden to sow your wild oats. Now, please leave." I push my chair closer to the table, trying my best to regain my composure after this absurd discussion. Impatiently, I tap my foot against the floor, desperate for this pointless conversation to end.

"Grant, I don't ask for much," Gareth pleads, the desperation evident in his eyes. He sinks to his knees as if he's begging, then continues, "But this club is more than just a place to party. It's my escape, my sanctuary. The energy and excitement there are unlike anything I've ever experienced. Isn't your only brother's happiness worth one evening of indulgence and revelry spent mingling and ogling some of the most stunning women in all of Manhattan?"

"You bother me incessantly. Your constant pestering is a source of endless frustration and once you've squandered the rest of your inheritance, I have no doubt that your harassment will only intensify. And when that happens, I may feel obligated to provide for your basic needs, but I will never feel any fraternal duty to support your indulgence in some depraved sex club." I duck my head and return to my work, inwardly praying for his quick departure.

"It's not depraved," Gareth replies confidently, with a hint of mischief. "It's an elegant, upscale establishment where the most beautiful and sophisticated people come to socialize and make connections. It's a place where like-minded people gather to explore their desires and expand their horizons. Deny it all you want, but I know you're lonely. You'd benefit from stepping out of your comfort zone and meeting a stunning woman who might be interested in a practical arrangement."

"A practical arrangement? Hooking up with women young enough to be your daughter is hardly practical. Please leave me out of this nonsense and go." I gesture toward the door without glancing up from my work. "This is your final warning, Gareth. If you don't leave now, I'll have security escort you out of the building."

My brother stands with his arms tightly folded across his chest, staring at me intently. He's clearly hoping that his lingering presence will make me feel uncomfortable enough to give in to his demands. My lack of reaction only fuels his desperation, causing him to spiral into a state of panic. "Fine! Please, do this for me and I'll never ask for anything again. Come with me this Friday, pay for your membership, and you never have to go again. You can tell them you weren't impressed with the place after all."

I am beyond frustrated and at a loss for words, so I stand up and lead him out of the room. "Email me the details, and I'll consider it," I tell him sternly. "No promises. But if I do agree to go, I'm only staying long enough to get them off your back. Don't try to put me in a compromising position." With my hand on his back, I guide him toward the elevator at a quick pace, almost colliding with a young woman turning the corner ahead of us. I quickly apologize, my eyes still on my brother, but when I look up, I am stunned by the most beautiful face I have ever seen.

"I-I'm sorry, I…" I stutter in disbelief, unable to form a coherent sentence as I stand before the woman I've dreamed about for so long. Every night, when the loneliness crept in, her face would appear in my thoughts. She looks different now than when we last met. The years have been kind to her, filling out her slight frame with gentle curves. But even after all these years, her face is one I could never forget. As I admire her beauty, my mouth watering with a surge of ravenous desire, reality slams into my lust-addled brain.

Her formality is a subtle reminder of our significant age difference—a gap that can't be ignored even in this moment of overwhelming emotion.

"No, I'm sorry, Mr. Whitlock. I wasn't paying attention," Ella whispers apologetically, tears glistening in the green eyes that still hold me utterly captivated. With a quiet sniffle, she tries to brush past us but stumbles on her own feet. Her voice is barely above a whisper as she repeats her apology.

As she gracefully brushes her long chestnut hair to one side, I can't help but admire the alluring silhouette of her body. The soft curves of her breasts are accented by the pale-pink fabric of her cashmere sweater, making them even more enticing to my lovesick eyes.

Before I can open mouth to reply, Gareth extends his arm and introduces himself. "I'm Grant's brother, Gareth. It's a pleasure to meet you…Ella." My brother's lips curve into a wicked smile that makes my blood run cold. Is he flirting with her?

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gareth. I was just visiting my father but I'm running late. It was nice to see you again, Mr. Whitlock." Ella's long lashes flutter with nerves as she avoids making eye contact with me.

A shiver runs down my spine as I remember her wearing a ponytail and a Catholic school uniform, her high school graduation and the day she captured my heart—her eighteenth birthday party. It's almost unsettling how much time has passed, but I can't seem to look away from her. I feel like a lecherous old man.

When Ella slips through the elevator doors, Gareth steps forward to follow, rubbing his hands together with glee like a greedy diner anticipating a sumptuous meal.

Feeling repulsed by his obvious intentions, I reach out my arm to keep him at bay and suggest that Ella take the elevator alone. She pauses for a moment before informing me that there is enough space for all three of us, but I dismiss her suggestion. The thought of sharing such a confined space with her arouses me too much, and I'm unwilling to give Gareth the opportunity to take her away from me.

Gareth lets out a disgruntled breath as the doors shut. "You know you're going to end up alone, right?"

I acknowledge his statement with a nod. "That's a fair assumption."