Westgate Manor

Chapter 3

                                                                 “Life is no fairytale”

“I hear things became quite rowdy in Guildford.”

Simon Grey glanced up from his desk, at his long-time friend, Blaine Richards who lazily leaned up against the door frame. Shrugging, he continued rifling through more papers, studying the figures.

“You were there, were you not?”

“You know very well that I was, Blaine.”

“Well? Did you find trouble, my friend?”

Simon’s grey eyes shot him a warning look before writing something down on one of the papers.

A sigh, followed by heavy footsteps, alerted Simon that his friend was approaching his desk. “I know why you went there. No woman is worth the trouble, not even Miss Williams, in all her glory.”

Simon tossed his papers upon his desk, looking at his friend. “It isn’t what you think. I needed to clear my mind, and I went there to do it.”

“Yes, I know. But you usually clear your mind in less than amicable ways, so I find myself curious.”

“That is your problem.”

So you did not fight, then?” Blaine inquired, ignoring the brush-off and lifting a dark brow.

“Blaine, I do have work to do, and so do you. Get to it.”

“Simon, we cannot afford for you to lose your head over a woman and scuffle with random-

“Blast it all, Blaine! I told you I did not go to fight. Take me for my word! I’m no longer the schoolboy you first met. I realize that not everything can be solved with fists!” he finished.

            Blaine gave him a curt nod, placing a hand on his shoulder before leaving his office.

            After he left, Simon whispered an expletive, and began massaging his temples. There were up and down sides to having a close friend; Blaine always watched out for him, and since they were young, had been as brothers. At the same time, Blaine knew entirely too much about him. With a past like his, that could be dangerous, but Simon trusted Blaine with his life. A wry smile touched his lips, when he thought of all the fights he would get into as a young boy, because of some jab made by others about his upbringing.

            Never one to back down from a fight, or give up in one; he’d often come home with a broken hand, bloody face, or broken nose. As an adolescent, his size was his advantage; not because he was large, for he was far from it, then. It was because his lithe body gave his opponents a false sense of triumph; he could see it in their eyes, and he took advantage of their poor judgment. Years of fighting his way through life caused him to grow accustomed to take beatings, and it wasn’t long before he became an adept fighter, himself. As the years passed, sinewy muscles slowly took form on the scrawny boy he’d once been, and he became a formidable foe to anyone who sought trouble with him.

            As grown men, Blaine and Simon had built up a profitable shipping business, and were making quite a name for themselves. The B&S shipping company had been well established for seven years.

            Three quick raps on the door drew his attention as Henry, an employee, cracked the door, poking his head inside. “Beggin’ yer pardon, sir. There’s someone ‘ere to see ye.’

            Simon looked over his paper littered desk, irritation flourished as he realized that he wasn’t going to get much accomplished. “Who is it, Henry? I have much to do today,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t have time-“