Her Two Fake Husbands

Chapter 2: The Plan

Quentin's lips were drawn wide with an excited grin as he closed the door to Ryan's office. He was jittery with anticipation as he thought over what he and Ryan had cooked up for that night.

Little Miss Prim and Proper had an enormous surprise waiting for her. Then hopefully, by the time dinner was over, he and Ryan would no longer have to worry about their future or that of their company.

The eager smile on Quentin's face froze as he looked over at his partner. Ryan's shoulders were so tense he almost seemed to shake where he stood. He was hunched over the phone as if someone had punched him in the stomach. It only took Quentin a second to understand why. The voice on the other end of the phone could be picked out of a crowd, and it wasn't because it was melodious.

The stern, gravely irritating shout was that of Ryan's father, Arthur Malcolm.

The term "pain in the a*s" didn't even begin to define the special brand of tyrannical a*shole that was Arthur Malcolm. By the look on Ryan's face, Arthur was succeeding in his d*ckish behavior.

Quentin rolled his eyes and shut the door as quietly as he could to make sure it couldn't be heard on the other end of the phone... that was if Arthur ever stopped yelling.

Ryan heard the quiet click of the door closing, though. He raised his head and gave Quentin a dark, miserable look.

“I'm done with your excuses, Ryan. I don't care what you do behind closed doors. But when I have colleagues asking me if my own flesh and blood is a tw*nk, then there is a problem," Arthur snarled through the phone line.

Quentin opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by a Ryan holding up a finger.

“Watch your f*cking mouth when you talk to me," Ryan snapped into the phone.

“Don't you talk to me that way, you little sh*t. Don't forget who gave you your start in this little business of yours. I can take it all away with a snap of my fingers," his father snapped back.

It was the typical threat Arthur gave when he wasn't getting his way. It was really the only thing he had left to hold over Ryan, and he never hesitated to use it.

Ryan's mother died when Ryan was very young, leaving Ryan in the not-so-capable hands of his heartless father. It got worse when Arthur refused to remarry since he had what every wealthy man of the Victorian era wanted... an heir.

“You're just lucky I let you hire your little f*ggot of a friend. Don't push me, boy," his father growled.

Quentin saw red and reached for the phone to tell Arthur exactly where he could stick it, but again, Ryan beat him to it.

“I'm gonna say this one last time, so you better listen really f*cking well. If you EVER use that word when you are talking about Quentin again... the next thing you will be spitting out is your perfectly formed, bleached teeth. Blood be d*mned," Ryan snarled.

He slammed his entire fist down on the disconnect button. The flimsy button broke and refused to come back up into position.

Growling with frustration, Ryan picked up the phone and tossed it across the room. The poor plastic phone shattered on impact with the wall and sprayed the area with pieces, leaving behind a tiny little plastic crime scene.

Quentin looked over at the broken pieces and sighed heavily.

“If you're gonna break the phone whenever he calls, we're gonna have to buy stock in them just to be able to keep up with the loss," Quentin commented with a shake of his head.

It had warmed Quentin's heart to hear Ryan defend him like that, especially to his own father. Quentin never needed Ryan to fight his battles for him. However, Quentin also knew from experience that if he had said something, Ryan would have gotten the brunt of the retaliation. Arthur did not need any help making things any harder for Ryan.

“That f*cking pr*ck is on my last f*cking nerve," Ryan snarled, ignoring Quentin's attempt at humor.

“After tonight, he will no longer be a problem," Quentin tried to reassure him.

“We wouldn't need our plan if my f*cking lawyers could do their godd*mn job! What the h*ll are we paying them for?"

“Because sometimes they know how to use the big words," Quentin tried humor again.

“You'd think they would learn how to read the big words," Ryan grumbled and paced the room as he ran his hands through his slightly shaggy hair.

Quentin actually really loved Ryan's hair. Most other guys in Ryan's corporate position would keep it short, so it was easier to manage. But Ryan was slightly vain about his hair, with good reason. Quentin remembered what Ryan's hair felt like as he ran his fingers through it.

Calm down, buddy. Quentin silently told himself with a half-smile. Right now was not the time.

Unaware of Quentin's predicament, Ryan paced to the window and looked down over the city. His shoulders were still hunched as if he was carrying the weight of the world on them. Ryan always took on way too much and shouldered most of the blame, no matter how many times Quentin told him that he didn't need to. But that was just how Ryan was.

Quentin walked up behind his partner and put his hands on Ryan's shoulders. At first, Ryan resisted, but he eventually allowed Quentin to turn him back around. Quentin looked into Ryan's eyes, making sure the man was listening.

“This is not your fault," Quentin told him for the millionth time since their predicament had become urgent.

“Stop, Q," Ryan grumbled, trying to shrug him off.

“No, you need to listen. No matter how many times I tell you this, it's like you space off or refuse to actually hear me. It is not your fault! Your father took advantage of you when he wrote up that damned contract. You were young and naive, and he knew that," Quentin insisted, trying not to shake him… too hard.

Ryan shook his head again, refusing to believe him. “No, I was young and stupid. I was too blinded by greed and ambition to see what he was doing."

Unable to help himself, Quentin shook him again. “He used your desperation and desire against you. that shows more about him than you."

Ryan stayed quiet, knowing that this fight with Quentin was a losing battle. No matter how often Ryan tried to point out the truth, Quentin always tried to see Ryan in the best light. Quentin refused to even consider that Ryan might have done anything wrong.

“Besides, after tonight, we'll never have to worry about that damned contract again."

“Hopefully, Q," Ryan reminded him. “HOPEFULLY, she'll agree. We need to think about what to do if she doesn't."

Quentin scoffed. “She will. Nyrissa's very smart and will see how it'll benefit her!"

Ryan was skeptical but didn't say anything. Between what was going to happen tonight and the damn disgusting phone call with his father, he really didn't want to argue with Quentin about anything. He put his hand over Quentin's and squeezed it a bit.

These small touches were about as intimate as they got at work. They weren't embarrassed by their relationship, but they learned long ago that the men of the corporate world weren't willing to make deals with two bisexual males in an open relationship.

Drug addictions, fine.

Giving thousands of dollars to hookers, strippers, and call girls was almost a requirement for these people.

Loving another man... hell no.

They found only one grey area where spending the rest of their life with another man would be anywhere near acceptable.

If they shared a woman.

It didn't matter to the rich and famous that it was illegal to marry the same woman. Nor did it seem to matter to them if the rest of the world found it unacceptable. To the men of the corporate world, it was a bit quirky but not distasteful.

So that was the plan tonight. Ryan and Quentin were going to bring Nyrissa into their home and offer her a marriage of convenience. There would be perks for her, of course. But this would allow them to get his father off their back and get out from under the life-sucking contract Ryan had signed on his 21st birthday. It didn't matter that the contract had given him the money to buy his first company. At the moment, it didn't seem worth it anymore.

Maybe it was worth it if it allowed Ryan and Quentin to keep their relationship under wraps and live a somewhat normal life without the repercussions of being outed.

God, he hoped she would say yes.

She would. Ryan decided, determined. He would make her see that it was to her benefit. After all, it was even more unacceptable to be a ball-busting, beautiful lesbian in a position of power.

The old geezers that made up their circle of colleagues didn't like the idea of a woman in charge. But they would accept it as long as she had "a big, strong man at home to keep her in check." That was almost a direct quote from one of the men that Ryan had worked with. The disgusting man had even ended it with an elbow to one of his other friends. They had all laughed and continued with their crude line of jokes.

Ryan hadn't, though.

He hated playing by these disgusting misogynistic, homophobic rules to keep his company afloat and his employees paid. But until they could bring this company to the point where they were competition rather than just the "new guys," they had to do what they had to do.

They had no choice. This crazy, desperate plan had to work.

Ryan squeezed Quentin's hand once more and gave a small smile.

“You're right. This is going to work."