Chapter 3

            One week later . . .

            Derek was going through his contacts, trying to figure out prospects for a wife who would be good enough for the New York elite, won’t mind him roaming for other pussy, and won’t be a pain in his ass generally.

            “Diane? No, too much of a free spirit for society,” he said as he went through his list on his cell. “Loula? No, too wild. Xena? Her name says it all. Hmm.”  He kept going through his list. He jotted down names on a pad that might pass mustard to be his wife. He stopped when he got to the Ns. He looked at the five names he had written down as prospects.

            “Hmm. I wonder if one of Philippa Dandridge’s granddaughters might consider marrying me? If anything, they girls love to have fun like I do. All three of them don’t seem to be any trouble. Then again, the future in-laws might be. Nah. Best scratch them out.”

The buzzer went off on the penthouse door.

“Wonder who that is?” Derek walked to the door and looked through the peephole. He squinted his eyes.

Is that one of the Van Dyke girls? God, I hope not. That whole family is dryer than toast. Except the one Deidre is friends with. 

Derek opened the door to what he guessed, a Van Dyke girl. But it was one of the young cute ones at least.

“Derek Dawson, today is you lucky day,” she announced with – a really nice smile surprisingly.

“Is that right?”

“Yes. If you will let me into your lovely penthouse, I’ll explain.”

This is the one Deidre is friends with. The one who has a personality. I can deal with her without yawning. And I need to be amused today.

“Sure,” Derek said and stood aside to let her in.

She looked around at the walls as she walked in.

Everyone looked at his walls. They were full of art that he has collected over the years. They were great conversation starters.

“Forgive me,” he began as he closed the door. “I know you’re one of my sister’s friends and you’re a Van Dyke, but I can’t remember which Van Dyke.”

“Chelsea.”

Derek smiled. “That’s it. Have a seat, please.”

Chelsea walked over to the sofa and sat down. “Your place is . . . the true bachelor pad, isn’t it?”

African dark and light plank floors donned the floors throughout the living room, kitchen, and hallway. There were two large half oval sofas with a line of pillows against the back of them. there was another regular shaped sofa in the massive living space as well. A bar was across the room that lined half a wall. It had glass shelves and a mirror behind it. The walls were painted faded bluish-gray color.

“That’s what I asked the interior decorator for it to be,” he said as he eased down about six inches away from her. “So, why is it my lucky day, Chelsea?”

It was like she spaced out looking at him.

“Chelsea?”

“Huh? Oh? Right. Why I’m here. I’ll be blunt. Deidre was at the estate last week. We were having a pool party to celebrate our graduation.”

“Our graduation?”

“Me and my twin, Chastity,” she said, expecting him to know that.

That’s right two of them are twins.

“Oh, yes, of course. Go on.”

“Well, Deidre confided in me that your father has put you in a position to marry within a year.”

“What! How did she know about that? Did our father tell her?”

“No, no,” she answered quickly. “She went to the den to say hello to you and she overheard . . . almost everything.”

“I see.”

What was Deidre thinking telling this young wafe my business?”

“Anyway. I know you need to marry in a year to get your full inheritance when your father dies. With that being said, I think I know a woman who is perfect for the situation. You two will be helping each other out by marrying.”

“Really, now? And who do you have in mind?” Derek asked with intrigue.

Please don’t say one of your boring sisters.

Chelsea gave him a slightly shy smile. “Me.”

His dark eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t expecting her to say that. He had hoped it was some bombshell she was friends with.

“Let me explain, okay?”

“Okay.”

What the hell. I’ll hear her out to make her feel like her trip wasn’t wasted. Then I’ll tell her no. The last thing I need is to marry a Van Dyke despite their blue blood status and massive wealth.

“I know you need a wife to get Dawson Inc. and your trust fund. To get my trust fund before I turn thirty I have to marry,” she revealed. “That’s the only clause there is for me to get it before then.”

“Oh?” He wasn’t expecting her to share something like that.

Chelsea nodded. “If you and I get married, within the year time table your father set, I’ll get my trust fund, which is what I want. And you won’t get cut out of your father’s will, which is what you want. Simple. Easy-peasy.”

“You know,” Derek began sincerely. “That’s not half -bad.”

“It’s not bad at all,” she said with a shy smile. “I get what I want and you get what you want.”

Well, at least she isn’t a snore-fest like her sisters and parents. She has a bit of a personality. It might not be bad being married to her. She has the pedigree to be a Dawson that’s for sure.

“I think we’ll get along well as husband and wife,” she stated.  She sounded a little breathless.

I wonder if she has asthma.

“We both love having fun. I mean I love the nightclub scene. And I’ve been to your club a few times. It’s great. Granted, we both have family obligations to fulfill from time to time, but outside of that I truly believe we’ll have a blast as husband and wife.”

“Well, at least you talk about it like it’s not going to be a death sentence. I’ll give you that,” Derek said.

“So, what do you say?” she asked with smirk.

Hmm. She could work.

“I tell you what, Chelsea, give me a few days to think about it,” Derek said sincerely.

“Oh, that’s fine. I mean I’ve had more time to think about the prospect than you so that’s fair.”

“How magnanimous of you,” he said with a grin.

She returned it.

She likes to smile a lot, but at least it’s a good looking smile.

“Give me your number, and I’ll give you a call when I make a decision.”

“Of course. Um . . . is it okay if I have your cell number, too?”

“Sure.”

“Great,” she breathed. It sounded like she was out of breath again.

For her sake, I hope her asthma isn’t as bad as Father’s. He has to use his inhaler three times a day.

                                                                                 ****

            Chelsea hopped into the white limo. It was one out of three limousines of the Van Dyke fleet.

            She thought she was going to pass out from oxygen deprivation from being so close to Derek. She had only exchanged words with him a hand full of times over the years.  Either way, she thanked the heavens above that she was able to get her thoughts and idea across without coming off like a silly school girl. And her heart. It felt like it was going to beat out of her chest being so close to him. Being alone with him.

            Chelsea didn’t give a damn about her trust fund. Her father gave her a generous allowance every month and that didn’t include the two credit cards he had gotten in her name. And if she wanted something she couldn’t get by using her cards or checking account, all she had to do was ask him. However, she had to tell Derek something. Chelsea knew that the only way he would seriously consider marrying her was if she told him what she gets out of it. He would have gotten suspicious if she claimed she was willing to marry him out of the kindness of her heart.  The truth was Chelsea was head over hills in love with him.

            Chelsea has been in love with Derek Dawson since she was twelve-years-old. She’ll never forget the first time she laid eyes on him.

            Chelsea and Chastity were at the Dawson’s townhouse. Her mother was having lunch with Mrs. Dawson. They had Deidre take the twins out to the small garden area in the back of the townhouse. Deidre was almost seventeen. She was playing babysitter to Chelsea.

            Chastity had wandered away by herself to look at some flowers that were in bloom. Chelsea was telling Deidre what her favorite foods were when he came along through a back gate.

            “Hey, melon head,” Deidre greeted with a smile.

            “Hey, puke face,” he said back with a devastating smile. “Who’s this?”

            “This is Chelsea Van Dyke,” Deidre answered. “The idiot with the goofy grin is my brother, Derek.”

            He was gorgeous. His thick, dark hair that came over his ears. The ear ring stud in his lobe, the tight jeans, and black tank top just oozed the right stuff. And the muscles in his arms. It was a wonder Chelsea didn’t pass out from the sight of him.

            “Oooh, hi,” Chelsea said shyly.

            He grinned and winked at her.

            Chelsea’s heart went pitty pat. She listened to Derek and Deidre talk for a few minutes before he went inside.

            When they were back in the limo, Chelsea pronounced something that day and to this day it was still her goal.

            “Mother,” Chelsea said from the limo seat across from her.

            “Yes, darling.”

            “I just want to let you know I’m going to marry Derek Dawson when I grow up,” she said with all seriousness.

            Her mother’s head rocked back with laughter.

            “What’s so funny? I’m serious.”

            Her mother looked at her with a big smile. “Of course, you are, darling. Of course, you are.”

            Chastity, who was sitting next to Chelsea, looked at her like she had said the dumbest thing in the world.

            Marrying Derek was all Chelsea ever truly wanted in life. It was her childhood dream. “He has to say yes. He just has to,” she whispered as the limo slowed at a stoplight.