The Contract

Authors note: One of my less successful stories (The Bridge) was criticised by a reader because they disagreed with the fundamental premise of the story, even though the factual basis for this was explained within the text. In this story, I have again employed a well-documented fact as a part of the plot, but for any disbelievers, or those who may just want to know a little more, I have included endnotes. Anybody who doesn't want to read them doesn't need to, so please don't bother to criticise this aspect of the story. Constructive criticism, both positive and negative, is always welcome. Rude anonymous comments will be immediately removed. They seem to be increasingly common, and even acceptable. They are not.

As always, any grammatical errors or typos are down to me alone. Please remember authors on this site, myself included, aren't writing for financial gain and mistakes are virtually inevitable.

The Contract

July 2014

My wife is very pretty when she smiles; something that she does not do often enough. She has short black hair, sad brown doe eyes, and soft rosy lips which are often pursed in concentration. She is thirty-five years old and has the body of a goddess; five feet ten inches tall with a beautiful round arse. narrow hips, and big round breasts, all of which she shows off to the world clothed in the latest most expensive designer clothes.

My friends and colleagues have often remarked how lucky I am to have married a woman like her. Only three people know that my marriage to Suzie has nothing to do with luck and that it involves no love and no sex. Those three people are Suzie, myself, and my lover, Georgina.

Many marriages eventually end up as loveless and sexless, but ours is almost unique because I have never loved Suzie and she has never loved me, and because we have never had any sexual contact whatsoever. Our marriage has involved no love or sex from day one. I have never even seen her naked body, do not know the shape of her breasts, and can only imagine what lies between her legs. I have never fucked her, and barring a miracle I never will. Suzie is totally asexual and has no sexual desire. I am almost certain that she remains a virgin and has never even masturbated.

Sometimes I have wondered what nature had in mind when she produced a woman with such a beautiful body and then condemned her to a life of chastity.

Even this early in my tale, I imagine you are wondering why we ever married and why we remain together. I will explain.

***

After I graduated from Medical School I went to work in a busy district general hospital in the Midlands in England but after two years on the wards, I started to realise that I didn't like sick people and that maybe doctoring was not for me. Accordingly, I applied for a job as a medical advisor at a well-known international pharmaceutical company and was pleasantly surprised when, after an interview, I landed the job. It was there that I first saw Suzie.

I was in the staff canteen one lunchtime when I saw her sitting with a group of young women who worked in marketing. A young male colleague, who was sitting next to me, saw me looking appreciatively at her and smiled before he spoke.

"Dream on. That's Miss Susan Walker. She works in marketing. Rumour has it that she's related to a guy who is a major shareholder in the company and who is as rich as fuck. She's pleasant enough but keeps herself to herself and never socialises outside work. I've watched any number of folk hit on her, me included, but she's just not interested. I thought she was a dyke, but she's not interested in girls either."

"I'm taken," I said. "But you have to admit she's got one hell of a body on her."

I had told the truth on both counts. At the time I was going out with a young lady called Anne whom I had met in the last hospital I had last worked at, and where she was a nurse. That relationship was fated to not last much longer. She still worked in Birmingham whilst I, by then, was living in London, and one hundred and twenty miles is a long way to go for a fuck.

***

Suzie's and my path did not cross much during work, and I did not speak to her for the first time until a year or so later when we were at a company meeting discussing the launch of a new product. I remember thinking that she had done well for herself having been recently promoted to a junior management position. She was extremely professional in her attitude but was aloof and rather cold. I am ashamed to say that, chauvinistically, I thought that she probably needed a good fucking to improve her mood.

I knew one thing. Whoever ultimately fucked her, it wouldn't be me. There were good reasons for this. I had learned that she was the only granddaughter of Gordon Walker who sat on the board of directors of the company for whom I worked. Her mother and father were dead, and she had no brothers or sisters. He was reputed to be a ruthless bastard and very old-fashioned and right-wing in his views, and I imagined he would have a dim view of any man who had casual sex with his granddaughter. In any case, she didn't appear to like me very much, if at all, and I was not tempted to make a pass at her, even though I had no girlfriend at the time.

***

The years passed and both Suzie and I rose through the ranks. Six years later I was a senior medical manager and Suzie was assistant marketing manager for the UK. By then, our jobs had brought us into direct contact with one another regularly. One of my duties was to make sure that all advertising material, marketing, and communications complied with the industry code of practice.

When we first started to work together, Suzie insisted on calling me Dr Morgan but eventually, I persuaded her to call me Lance when we were alone together. We may have been colleagues on first-name terms, but we were not friends. Suzie was remarkably good at her job. She was very intelligent and organised and obsessional in her work habits but, outside work, I knew nothing about her. She remained serious, unsmiling, and distant.

This did not bother me. Suzie may have been beautiful to look at, but despite her curves, beautifully coiffured hair, painted fingernails, and expensive clothes she had no sex appeal whatsoever.

After finishing with Annie I had a couple of relationships that came to nothing. In all that time Suzie never mentioned having a boy or girlfriend.

In January 2012 it was my thirty-third birthday and then, about a week later, a far more important event in my life occurred.

Mr Gordon Walker died.

I later found out that it was expected. He had been suffering from prostate cancer and was eighty-nine years old when he passed. Unsurprisingly, Suzie had not mentioned that the man, who had brought her up as his own daughter, was terminally ill. Suzie later told me his wife had died almost ten years earlier, and her grandfather was the last of her close relatives.

Appropriately, the funeral was held on a cold wet day in late January. I was present along with the members of the company board of directors and senior managers. In keeping with his wealth and status, the church was crowded with the "great and the good", and I recognised some familiar faces including several government cabinet ministers. Kenneth Clarke, Jeremy Hunt, and Boris Johnson sat close to the front of the church in the row behind where Suzie sat, accompanied only by the chief executive officer of the firm.

It was then that I realised that as Gordon Walker's only living heir, Suzie was likely to have inherited her grandfather's wealth and a seat on the board of directors. Overnight, she had suddenly become a very rich and influential woman.

Later, at the cemetery, I watched her standing silent and alone by the grave as the coffin was lowered into place. She was dressed all in black, her beautiful body covered by a modest full-length dress and coat, and her head by a black lace mantilla. She was expressionless as she threw a handful of soil onto the coffin, then turned away. As she walked back to the waiting car I suddenly felt very sorry for her.

I didn't attend the reception in the Ritz Hotel but hurried back to work. Driving away from the cemetery it occurred to me that I would never see her again. Why would she return to work as a marketing manager for a company she owned a large chunk of? And then I realized that I had never said goodbye.

***

I needn't have worried. Early in February, Suzie returned to work. She was even quieter and more thoughtful than before, but I put this down to recent events, and she soon threw herself energetically back into the job.

Then, on a Friday evening at the end of the second week in February, she entered my office, closed the door, and asked me a question?

"Lance, Are you doing anything next Tuesday evening?"

I assumed her question was work-related and that there was a meeting scheduled.

"Not that I know of," I replied.

"It's Valentine's Day," she said.

"Bad planning on somebody's part then. But no I don't have a date that night."

"Will you come out with me then? A Valentine's Day date. I have a proposition to put to you."

She smiled awkwardly, and I was surprised and intrigued in equal measure.

"All the restaurants will be booked up, won't they?"

"I already have a table for two booked at Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester," she said, naming a three-Michelin star restaurant in Mayfair.

As my eyes widened in surprise, she continued to speak.

"I've been there with Grandpa. God rest his soul. His name opens doors."

More like his money, I uncharitably thought.

"Well?" she asked." I can promise you a good meal and maybe more," she continued enigmatically. "My treat"

By then, I had already made up my mind.

"Thar will be nice," I said.

After she left my room I sat staring at the wall and wondered what this strange, sexless, and beautiful woman wanted from me.

***

At half past nine on Tuesday evening, we sat at our table in Alain Ducasse. I had just eaten a ten-ounce Wagyu steak; without a doubt the best meal I had eaten in my life. I was mellowed after a half bottle of excellent, vintage, but wildly overpriced burgundy when Suzie made her pitch.

Up until then, the evening had passed pleasantly enough. Suzie had spent a little time describing her background and I had told her a little more about myself. Her story was by far the more remarkable.

She could not remember much about her parents who had died tragically when she was a baby. Her father had been piloting a light aircraft with his wife and sister when it had disappeared over the English Channel. They were on a day trip to Paris. Her father was travelling to a business meeting and the ladies were accompanying him to go shopping. Baby Suzie had been left at home with her grandmother to look after her.

She had no brothers or sisters and her only aunt, who had died with her parents, had been unmarried with no children. Her mother was an only child whose parents were long dead. When that plane had fallen into the sea it took both of her grandfather's children and his name with it. Suzie was his only living descendant and he took her into his home, and he brought her up as his own child.

"My Grandfather was extremely rich. He had fingers in many pies; retail, pharmaceuticals, property, and manufacturing. He believed in diversification. He has left an estate worth a great deal of money.

He was very good to me, but he was an old-fashioned man and very right-wing in his views. The death of my father hit him very hard, and he transferred all his hopes and aspirations that he had for my father onto me. My education was designed to do that, which is why I studied economics at the LSE and then attended London Business School. It was my grandfather that arranged my present Job. He wanted me to start at the bottom to prepare me for the day I would inherit."

She paused and looked me hard in the eyes.

"Now, what I am going to say next is confidential. It must not be repeated whatever happens after we leave this restaurant. Can I trust you? Do I have your word?"

I wondered why she was being so melodramatic, but I had come out with her that night because I had been curious, and I still was.

"Yes," I replied, and my fate inched forward to being sealed.

Suzie started to speak again.

"Grandpa was clear that he wanted me to marry and hopefully have heirs to carry on after him. It was only last week, when I attended his lawyer for the reading of the will, that I learned how strongly he wanted me to marry.

In his will, he left me everything he owned. There was only one stipulation. To receive everything, I must marry before the age of thirty-five years old and either give birth or not divorce within seven years. I will receive ten million pounds in cash immediately, one-third of his remaining assets, and the deeds to all of his houses when I marry, and the balance when I either have a child or am married for seven years. If I do not qualify to inherit because I do not wish to comply with what he wanted, the money will be left to charity. You don't need to know exactly how much money we are talking about but it's many billions of pounds."

She paused before she spoke again.

"Cunning old man wasn't he?"

"Can't you contest it," I asked.

"The lawyer says almost certainly not. And that's why I've asked you out this evening. I've decided to do what he wanted. There's too much at stake not too."

"So why have you asked me out today to tell me this? I'm no lawyer so how can I help you?"

"I would have thought that by now, it would be obvious. I need a husband. It's Valentine's Day so I'm allowed to ask. Will you marry me?"

I just stared back at her.

"Before you reply, think hard. I don't expect an answer tonight. You can have a few days. Think of this as a simple business deal between colleagues. That's all it will be. I don't want children and there will be no sex involved. We will be married only on paper and externally will appear to be a normal married couple. Only you and I will know the truth. You're a man with normal appetites so you can sleep with whom you want but would need to be discrete about it. I won't enquire. And because I don't want children it will take seven years to get all his money.

How old are you now?"

"Thirty-three."

"So when you are forty you will be free of me. I'll make it worth your while. The contract will guarantee you receive two million pounds when we marry and a further fourteen million pounds when we have been married for seven years, after which we will divorce. If you marry me, and we are divorced before the full seven years are up, you will get nothing more, and I will lose a lot of money. If I die before the seven years are up you will inherit none of my wealth and won't receive the closing payment.

I had been listening intently.

"Why me?"

"I'm not wired like most people. I know that. I like things to be clean, tidy, and organised. I'm not a people person, and I avoid physical contact. I don't know many people and very few suitable men.

You are my age, good-looking, intelligent, educated, and methodical in your ways. I believe you are an understanding person who will be able to play your part in this and see it through. As much as I can like any man I like you, and I do not find your company intolerable. Importantly, you appear to be an honest man and I believe I can trust you to keep to your side of our agreement."

"I suppose I should be flattered," I said. "How do you see this working?"

"We will live under the same roof, eat our meals together, be seen together when necessary, sleep separately, and go our separate ways whenever we wish. As I said, you can find yourself another woman. Keep it quiet. You'll be married."

"I need to think this over," I murmured. "Let me sleep on it."

As I said this I knew I had just lied to Suzie for the first, and I hoped, last time. I had already made up my mind that I would marry her.

***

We married in April 2012. It was a small registry office ceremony. My widowed mother and my sister were present, along with a few friends from school. Suzie invited a few family friends and a half dozen or so folk from work were also invited.

The reception was held at Claridge's, from where Suzie and I left early. She had already resigned from her job whilst I had several weeks of holiday owed to me and we had decided, for the sake of appearances, to go on honeymoon. Whilst we were away she had decided to completely redecorate the large mansion in Richmond that her grandfather had left her. It would be ready in two weeks when we returned. An army of tradespeople would see to that.

We flew first class to New York, where we were booked into a suite with two bedrooms in the Waldorf Astoria. We spent the next two weeks shopping, sightseeing, and getting to know each other a little better. As the days passed she relaxed and although sometimes she became just a little more talkative she stayed aloof. I learned that she was an inquisitive individual who liked to visit museums and art galleries and we spent two days in the Museum of Modern Art where she stood for an hour in front of Salvadore Dali's The Persistence of Memory. When we viewed Magritte's'' The Lovers, I was persuaded to tell her that it was a metaphor for our relationship, but she did not reply. At times, she needed to be on her own and would wander off to do her own thing.

Didn't John Donne say, "No man is an island"? At times Suzie appeared to be just that.

During our time in New York we never once held hands or had any physical contact. Each night she withdrew to her bedroom and shut the door.

On our return to Richmond, the house was ready, and we moved in together and promptly started to live as husband and wife.... only with separate bedrooms

***

The arrangement worked surprisingly well. We were well suited to live together. Most days we had breakfast together and often met again at dinner time. We often sat quietly together in the evening and watched television or read. I had an office at home where I could do my paperwork. At weekends we sometimes visited museums or galleries together and sometimes we went to the cinema. Suzie had inherited an interest in several charities for whom she was a patron and about once a month we attended an evening event together. Occasionally we would attend a dinner with Important investors in Suzie's business interests, or with a few of hers or my old friends.

Financially, I did well out of our agreement. In addition to the payment of two million pounds, within three months of the marriage, I got a job promotion with a significant pay rise.

Suzie's mood was unchanged. She was naturally introverted and did not always find the need to talk much. She was quiet and serious, and her brow was frequently furrowed in concentration. She was prim and proper, and I never knew her to say a foul word or tell or laugh at a dirty joke. For Suzie, sex was not even a dirty word. For her, it didn't exist.

And so we slept in different bedrooms, and I did what any man does when he isn't getting enough from his wife. I found myself another woman.

I met Georgina two months after marrying Suzie. It was at a weekend conference in central London, and we were seated together at dinner at the pre-conference dinner on a Friday evening. I fancied her the moment I saw her, and the feeling was apparently mutual. We were both horny as hell. I hadn't fucked anybody since New Year's Eve, and she wasn't getting enough at home from a husband who was away for months at a time. She had no children to distract her and didn't plan to have any. After a couple of glasses of wine, we snuck back to her room and got down to it.