Until Midnight Read Online ChaShiree M, M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 53(@300wpm)
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“I should say we do. Good day, Malcolm.” She hangs up swiftly and my gut begins to ache. I hate disappointing her, but enough is enough.

“Mr. Porter, John is on line 1.”

“Thank you, Gwynn.”

“John. What a surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure?” I mean that lightly. Nothing is ever pleasurable about talking to him. John is a member of our board of directors. He came up in this company with my father. He and two others are the sole remaining original members and because their share is so vast, every decision I make is run through them. My father started this company and he set it up that way. Checks and balances and all of that. When my father semi-retired, he left me in charge as his only male heir. He made me into the CEO and bequeathed me most of his remaining shares which is equal to fifty percent with him holding one percent as a tie-breaker should I need it.

John is the one who always holds out, trying to coax more from me or make me follow his lead. It will never happen, but he tries, and I can’t stand him. “Malcolm, my boy, I understand there is a party at your folks place in a couple of days.”

“There is indeed. An announcement of sorts.” My father has decided to invest in a production company. He is going to be the new majority shareholder and he wants to make a formal announcement along with a party. My parents will do anything for a party.

“I see. Can’t wait. The reason for my call dear boy is because my granddaughter will be here that weekend and I would love for her to attend. Perhaps you can escort her…” Are you fucking serious?

“I have a date already, John. Sorry. Now if you will excuse me.” Unbelievable. I am getting it from everywhere. Knock. Knock. “Enter.” When my dad walks in, I curse under my breath. I can't get a damn break.

“Son.”

“Father.”

“First of all, I don’t care much for anyone making my wife cry.” His face is stern as he scolds me, but I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes. Like hell she was crying. That woman is made of steel.

“I will apologize dad. Now how can I help you?” For fucks sake can I get some peace?

“I came here to give you this.” He drops a business card on my desk.

“Gladis Horner. Relationship matchmaker to the elite and the every day.” I repeat the slogan on the card. “A matchmaker?” He smirks and nods his head.

“You bet your ass. She’s the best. Look her up.” He smiles and walks out the door. I sit back in my chair and take a second. Seriously? But, I find myself looking the business up and wow, talk about impressive. The list of names of Hollywood couples she has paired up is nothing short of downright, amazing.

Before I can stop myself I am shooting an email. What the hell can it hurt? At this rate, I need to find someone so everyone will get off my back. Knock Knock. It is fucking grand central station in here. “Come in.”

“Sir, I just wanted to see if you needed anything before I took my lunch?” Gwynn's question is normal. A question she asks me every day, but today, there is something else hidden in it.

“No. I am fine. Enjoy.” She hesitates at the door and looks at me. “Is there something else, Gwynn?”

“No, sir,” she whispers the last part before walking out, looking over her shoulder and closing the door. What the hell? Maybe I do need a wife. It seems to be open season around here.

chapter three

Millicent

“I’m so glad you let me do this. Trust me when I say I found the perfect man for you. He’s uniquely able to understand the pressures you are under,” Gladis says, and I feel guilty. Swallowing thickly, I shake those thoughts from my head.

“Thank you, Gladis. I really appreciate this, more than you know.” I can’t tell her why I want this, but hopefully, she won’t be pissed when she finds out I’m using her and this great guy she found for me. Maybe I shouldn’t do this, I hesitate, but forget about that when she speaks again.

“No problem darling. Malcolm will meet you at Mannheim’s at twelve-forty-five,” she says. “No, Henry, not that one.” I hear Henry grunt something in response. I laugh as they have a little more back and forth. I’m used to it though. “The reservation is under his name,” she says, letting me know she’s back to me now.

“Perfect,” I say checking my watch. I have a little over an hour before I have to drive downtown, not that there’s much of a downtown, but that’s where the restaurant is.

We hang up and I spring into action. I’ve dated some, all blind dates set up by my mother. Those setups came complete with coordinated outfits to wear. This is the first date I have ever been on that was all up to me. Inside my closet, I slide my dresses down the rod and pull out a white blouse. Grabbing a pair of jeans, a black body suit, and a pair of heeled black boots, I get dressed quickly but pay special attention to my makeup and hair. The drive over to the restaurant was uneventful and I used the time to calm down and gather my thoughts.


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