BABY GIGOLO.

Chaos.

"I told you that boy Christopher was too good to be true, but nobody listens to me. And what did he do? Leave his bride hanging at the altar, and that is exactly what's going to happen to you if you keep seeing him, and I don't want you to see him again. And as for that Tate fellow, I don't ever want to see him near my door," Mr. Townsend fumed after the door had closed behind their guests.

He had been quiet all evening and the pressure had been building to the point where he now exploded. He was right in his thoughts and decision about Tate, but unfair in his judgment of Christopher. He was blinded by fear and rage that did not allow him to see clearly. Rage, because he could not believe what just happened; fear because he saw his daughter waiting in vain for Christopher at the altar. He was beside himself and the two ladies thought it best not to respond. It would only fuel his indignation. They decided to let him cool down before they address the subject again. He stormed off to bed and the ladies sighed with relief.

Mrs. Townsend and Francesca cleared the table in silence and afterwards she made a cup of coffee and said, "Now, Francesca. Tell me what just happened."

Francesca gave a sigh because she herself was in shock and did not know what was going on. There were too many things to consider, but she thought it best to allay her mother's concerns.

"Mother, it is the first time I'm hearing of it. Christopher would have told me if it was worth mentioning. Clearly it is not. The person he referred to as Mr. Vain is Tate. We were discussing Tate the other day, and that is the nickname I gave him. I can only surmise that Christopher caught Tate in bed with his girlfriend before the wedding. If I know more, you'll be the first to know."

"That must have been something. Finding your best friend and fiancé in bed. These spoiled rich kids are capable of anything. I would have done exactly what Christopher did. But your father is not happy. His fear is for you, my dear, and the circle you are moving in. Look at what they are doing. I can't say I blame your father. What a mess. And I suggest that you keep Christopher away until your father has calmed down. Christopher has some explaining to do, and I don't want a row."

~•~

Christopher had gone home and sat in the dark. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, he couldn't act. And above all, he couldn't lose Francesca. It was through no fault of his that the evening went pear-shaped. He thought he was doing Tate a favor by introducing him to some upright, moral and decent people for a change, and share in his happy moment when he would ask them to marry their daughter.

Everything was worked out carefully, until Tate spoiled it. He knew that Tate was in love with Francesca, but he didn't think he'd stoop so low as to wreck his chance at happiness. He had forgiven Tate for his indiscretion of sleeping with his ex, but the fact that he wanted to derail his life for a second time was the last straw. Christopher deleted Tate's number and texted Francesca goodnight. She responded with a heart.

~•~

Tate realized that he no longer had a friend in Christopher. He had gone too far, and there was no turning back; and apologizing wasn't going to cut it this time.
What he feared about being an aging, single lonely playboy stared him in the face. All seemed lost and he only had his lackeys to occupy his time with. There was not a single girl amongst his set that he considered marriage material, and any decent girl, looking at him would not consider him a suitable husband either. Our little spider had lost everything, and nobody to turn to.

~•~

Mr. Townsend had, in the meantime, calmed down enough for the ladies to talk to him. After much twisting and turning, he eventually saw their point, but declared in a stern voice, "But there shall be no talk of marriage. Not yet anyway. And I suggest that Christopher limits his time spent here."

They agreed to his terms, but afterwards, when they were alone, Mrs. Townsend said, "Husband, I agree with you on the marriage thing. You made the right decision, but on the second thing I would want you to reconsider. The young people will find ways to spend time together, and who knows where? So, why not let Christopher visit here where we can keep an eye on things. It would be safer that way. What do you think?"

"You've made a good point, my dear. Tell Christopher I want to see him next  week."

Christopher duly arrived. He explained what happened between him and his ex, and what role Tate played in the drama.
Dinner proceeded as usual, and so did every other night he visited.
Three months later, Christopher asked for her hand in marriage, and it was given on the condition that he should not leave her hanging at the altar. Mr. Townsend vowed to kill him with his bare hands should he try a stunt like that.

~•~

The wedding was a magnificent affair, pictures of it were posted by family, friends and well-wishers on all the social media sites.
Mr. Vain was lounging on his couch while flipping through the pictures. That was the closest he got to the happy couple, the ceremony and the reception. With one hand he swept the burning lamp from its stand. It smashed to the floor and splintered into a thousand pieces. He was left in the dark in more ways than one, and after a while he fell asleep.

~•~

Although very rich, Tate never kept an eye on business and how matters stood in the company. To him, there would always be money, and besides, he had better things to think about than the company. At the stroke of midnight, while he was sleeping, his personal and business bank accounts showed zero. His Chief Financial Officer had cleared out the accounts and, with his family, had fled to a country where there was no extradition.

When Tate woke up the next morning, he was poorer than the plebs he was forever looking down on. He was unaware that if he didn't find a job fast, he was going to join the homeless at the doors of the charity soup kitchens, and his parasites, who were forever hanging around would desert him in search of a new host at whose feet they would crawl for their needs.

~•~

Thank you for reading, commenting and voting. It is much appreciated.

~•~

The End.