Chapter Text
Welcome to my new story. I hope you enjoy it! This Milex story is AU. A little something different, this time. Most of the things you'll find and figure out along the way. My story is taking place in an AU 2016-ish world. Alex's birthday takes place in summer - I changed that. And everything else, hopefully, will become clear as the chapters come around.
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Alex
“Alex Turner turns 30. And business can prepare for his best decade yet. At just this young of an age, Mr. Turner already has an impressive life to show for. Regarded a math genius since his earliest days in school, he studied business and finished with honors at the prestigious London School of Economics, needing two semesters less than the average smart person studying there. He went into the financial sector, amassed a seemingly endless list of successes and managed to remain invisible and unknown to everyone except those who are always looking for the next Wunderkind to bet big on. His birthday will take place this weekend and when the week resets on Monday, we can all tune in for his next endeavor – his attempt to save an age-old institution, South London Steel. We certainly wish him all the best.”
Penny Turner placed the London Times away and pressed both her hands to her heart. “Oh, my dear Alex. What a wonderful thing. This newspaper has high hopes for you! They call you a genius!” She shook her head in wonder. “I can’t believe that an entire newspaper congratulates you for your birthday!”
“It’s not an entire newspaper!” Alex sat at his marble covered kitchen table, twirling the expensive bone china cup that always left his coffee tasting stale, and wondered just how much of his hard-earned money this ridiculously overpriced interior designer had wasted on both. His mood soured at the prospect. “It’s one bloody editor and he only wrote it ‘cause he hopes it’ll make me hand over inside information for his next big scoop!”
“It doesn’t say any of that in the article,” stated his mother as she took the paper, folded it meticulously, and carefully placed it into her purse. “The other women in my knitting circle will be so jealous! My son’s a genius.” She grinned at him. “The newspaper says that!”
“Yes, mother.” He gave the cup another nudge as he fought the urge to roll his eyes. This time it tipped over, spilling coffee everywhere. “Shit!”
“Alex! This isn’t a toy! It’s a fancy cup. You’re not supposed to use it for coffee, anyway!”
“It’s a coffee cup, isn’t it?” Dabbing the table with paper towels, he gave her an incredulous look. “What else am I supposed to do with it?”
“Present it?”
The look turned into a grimace. “A coffee cup? To whom?”
Penny sighed. “People, son. Friends. A woman, maybe. You have this grand apartment and you never invite anybody over. Do you have any idea what wonderful dinner parties you could have here? What’s the point of having this beautiful place if you don’t show it off? Could have stayed at your old place.”
“I’d have love to, but the owner wanted to tear the complex down.” His old place was small and, as much as he hated the word, normal. This place? He glanced around. It reeked of money. His money. He shouldn’t have let a real estate agent do his own work. He should have looked for a new home, himself. But he’d been so damn busy and he just wanted the move to be done with.
And since he had all that money, ‘cause, apparently, business and investing were sectors that paid shockingly much, he figured he might as well spend it on an apartment.
Well.
That was a mistake he wouldn’t make twice.
Penny had gotten up and rummaged through his cupboards. When she found what she’d been looking for, she turned around and handed him one of his old mugs. It had a scratch on the bottom. “Use this one. Not the pretty ones.”
Pretty was not a word he’d use to describe a bunch of tacky, gold-rimmed cups. But who was he to argue with his mother? “If you like the damn cups so much, take ‘em with you. I don’t mind!” He’d judged them ugly, anyway!
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Do it already.”
She hesitated, began nibbling on the corner of her lip. “No. It wouldn’t just be the cups. You have the matching dinner plates and the teacups and the serving plates and—”
“Take everything, then!” The entire collection of money badly spent.
“What would you use to eat from?”
“Pizzas come in a box,” he said, being his most serious. Her outraged expression brought a bit of joy to his otherwise boring morning. “Mother, please. I’m begging you, now. Take the godawful stuff with you and be done with it!”
“If you insist!” A smile as big as all of the Commonwealth spread on her face. “Let me call your father. I walked here. He needs to bring the car! Oh, but before I do. I almost forgot.” She reached for her purse again. Plucked something out. “Here. For you. Happy Birthday, my sweet little boy!”
Alex eyed it warily, that off-white envelope that came with no marker, no name or anything. “I thought the sweater was my gift?” He let his thumb and index finger slide over the paper and he couldn’t shake the thought that something dangerous hid in there.
“Yes, yes. That was from your father and me. This one is from me. A little extra. Because I’m worried about you.”
What was in there, wondered Alex, irritated. A gift certificate for a physical? He opened it and promptly rolled his eyes from London all the way to Australia. “Excuse my language, mother, but you have got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Language not excused,” admonished Penny sternly.
The small engraved card in Alex’s hand said “Miracle Aligner Dating Agency” on one side, punched into it with golden letters. The other side said, ‘Tuesday, 7:30 p.m., Lion’s Club London.’ The date was hand-written. As was the signature. ‘Miles Kane’
“Kane…” Alex scrunched his nose. “How do I know that name?”
“He’s Pauline’s son. I told you about him!”
Right. Her best friend’s son. The guy had founded a dating agency immediately after graduating high school. It had taken a bit but he’d struck gold when smartphones and apps began to surge and his agency’s app was the hit amongst today’s smartphone and app obsessed citizens. “Why do I have a meeting with this guy? Don’t tell me he wants to invest or some shit like that!”
“Alex, my dear little genius, you’re really not the smartest cookie in the jar, are you?” She pinched his cheek.
He swatted her hand away.
Penny sighed. “This is a gift. A personal meeting with the head of Britain’s most highly regarded dating agency. And you’re meeting him so you can find the love of your life. He’ll help you find a nice, caring and kind woman to make grandchildren with.”
A mix of a snort and a laugh sputtered from him. He really ought to tell her, right? That he was gay? That his last two girlfriends were nothing but hired personnel?
He lived in a world that not just ran on money and connections but also on images and perceptions. He planned on saving a company that was controlled by an old-fashioned family whose matriarch had a reputation for his racist slips and whose wife was everything modern women fought against. But he needed their cooperation to get things to work out. If they found out he was into men, he might as well give up now.
So, he’d decided a while ago to keep his personal life a secret. Or, rather, not advertise it. He wasn’t famous. Hardly anybody could put his name to his face. He went on dates with men. He had the occasional affair. Only, whenever there was an event or a party, he’d need a woman. It was a bad world he lived in. He wasn't denying that.
Keeping it from his parents wasn’t necessary, he knew. They’d understand. At least, they’d accept that he was into men. His mother, however, would not be able to keep it to herself. She’d tell everyone and then some that he was gay, single, and searching for a husband. And after she’d move heaven and earth to find him one, she’d single-handedly move them to the top of every adoption waitlist available. That, she’d tell everyone as well.
He loved her massively. But she couldn’t be trusted with the words ‘do not tell anyone’. It was just easier this way.
“I liked the last one,” Penny told him, reminiscing about his past. “She was pretty.”
Pretty, smart, funny. Turned out the last two attributes were twice as expensive as the first one when booking an escort. “If I wanted to find a partner—”
“You could,” finished his mother, dismissively. “Dear, I don’t doubt that women take note of you. But you tend to choose the wrong ones. Pauline told me that Miles is very good in his line of work. His rate of successful matches is higher than any other agency’s! Give it a chance. What’s the worst thing that can happen, huh? You spend an evening in the company of another person.”
“I have friends,” he retorted petulantly, beginning to take offense at her flippant remarks.
She countered with a pointed look. “Weird ones.”
“Colleagues!”
“They always talk about cars and money.”
Yes. That, sadly, was true.
“Do me a favor, dear, and help me wrap up all that fine china, so I can transport it safely.” She pushed the roll of paper towels into his hand. “Two for each cup. And be thorough!”
He owned two very fancy cars, he had a record collection that filled its own room, he regularly impressed colleagues and business acquaintances with his deep knowledge of numbers and he knew for a fact that he fucked far better than well. But one morning with his mother and he felt like a toddler who’d yet to learn basic human skills. “I know how to wrap a cup into a paper towel,” he bit out.
“Do it, then.” She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he did it right. “And dear? Use that attitude again and I’ll take that lasagna I made you right back home with me. Understood?”
“Clearly.” He, hungry toddler that he was, lowered his head. “Sorry, mom.”
“Apology accepted, love. Continue wrapping.”
-
“Look at her!”
Alex sat on the wide settee in the VIP section of one of London’s fancier clubs, Vodka in hand, looking at the woman this guy named Jake was pointing at. She was a beauty. He couldn’t deny that. But she didn’t interest him. “Go for her!”
“I will,” said Jake winningly. “You alright? ‘Tis your birthday party! You look bored.”
He was bored. To the very core of his bones. Bored by his life. Bored by this club. Bored by the music. Bored by–
Alex sat up straight, clutched the glass in his hand tightly.
By accident, his eyes had landed on the bar. He’d watched aimlessly until a cluster cleared, only to reveal the tall figure of a man. Short, dark hair. Wearing a tailored suit. Anthracite. Or black maybe. Or something akin to that. He was slim but exceptionally well built, from the first impression of it. He’d long legs. Nice arms. Firm shoulders to grab when—
“Alex?”
He licked his lips in appetite as he struggled to make out the face.
“Alex! Hey!” Jake was snapping his fingers in front of him.
He blinked. “Huh?”
“Drink? You want one?”
He spotted the waiter in front of him. “’nother Vodka.” He quickly glanced around, trying to spot him again. That guy. Sex on legs. But the cluster had swallowed him whole. Should he walk over? Search for him? Introduce himself? He didn’t even know if the stranger was into men. What if he walked over and the guy ended up being straight? As most guys pretended to be!
Jake nudged his arm. “Seriously, man. What’s with you? We’re out, celebrating you and you’re sitting here, staring off, lost in thought. What the hell?”
Alex was too busy debating with himself to pay attention to his manners. “I didn’t ask for a party.”
“Well, you’re welcome then. Thanks for not appreciating your friends!”
Were they his friends? His mind got sidetracked by that question. He hung out with them. Partied with them. But he didn’t like them all that much. He hardly cared for them. If anything, he was annoyed by them. Especially right now.
Damnit, the cluster just wouldn’t budge. Alex leaned back and gave up his quest for the stranger. “Jake…you’re right. Sorry.” It was a lame apology, half-assed at best, but he couldn’t possibly bring himself to make a greater effort. His drink arrived and he took a healthy swig, remembering something else. “I’m supposed to meet somebody at this club. The Lion’s Club or something like that. Never heard of it. You? Any idea where it is?”
“You’re meeting somebody there? Take me with you.”
Not in this life, thought Alex. “Why? What’s it about that club?”
“It’s a strip club. Good one, too. Seriously, who are you meeting in a strip club?”
“Long story.” And a good question! What serious dating agent, or whatever job title this guy was using, invited a possible client out to meet at a bloody strip club?
Miles
Miles Kane shrugged out of his hand-stitched jacket, tossed it onto his mother’s living room couch and loosened the tie around his neck. “Fucking contraption!” He didn’t mind wearing one. At times, he even enjoyed dressing up and paying extra to look sharp, but most days, he loved shirts and jeans. Especially when it was fucking one-hundred degrees Celsius outside and his driver forgot to have the damned a/c repaired! He was drenched and sticky and headed straight for the shower.
By the time he was done, wearing track pants and his favorite shirt, he found his mother sitting next to his now neatly folded jacket, typing something into his phone. He stopped short and immediately worried. “What are you doing with that?”
“Setting up a meeting for you.”
“Say what now?”
“A meeting.” Pauline looked up, a sly smile on her face. “Remember my friend Penny?”
He nodded warily, wondering where this story was headed and whether or not he should run and hide now or wait for the inevitable bomb to drop.
“Her son Alex turned thirty on Saturday. Yesterday. She’s a bit worried about him. Apparently, he’s a bit of a loner. He’s rich and smart and quite a good catch, but he likes being by himself. Anyway, I told her you’d meet with him and find him a nice, young lady to marry and have kids with.”
A blank look settled on his face as he let the words sink in. Then he was no longer nodding but, instead, shaking his head vigorously. “I’m booked out, mother. I don’t have meetings like that. I have people for that. And my company is specialized in supplying matches online. Via the app.” He groaned at her blank expression. “The funny symbol on your phone? The one you say looks like a heart-shaped balloon?”
“You used to meet with clients,” she pointed out, still holding onto his phone. “You told me how people come to your agency and find matches.”
“Years ago. Not anymore.”
“Make an exception for your mother, sweetheart.” Pauline shifted to direct all her attention at him now. Her smile grew bigger and a glint appeared in her eyes. “Besides, he’s already expecting you. Gave Penny one of those fancy cards you carry around. Wrote down the date and signed with your name.”
“Mom!”
“Oh, calm down, Miles. One meeting. That’s really not too much to ask, is it? Get to know him. Ask him what he likes in a woman and give him a few numbers of women to call.”
“That’s not at all how this works,” he drawled, tempted to deliver a rousing speech about the pros of his app, but he faltered quickly. He’d done it before. He’d spoken extensively. And each and every time he used the words ‘app’, ‘match’ and ‘swipe’ his mother began to yawn. It was a pointless endeavor. Just as it was to refuse her wishes. Sighing deeply, he caved. “When’s the meeting?”
“Splendid,” expressed Pauline. “Tuesday night, half-past seven at the Lion’s Club.”
He blinked. She didn’t have. Did she? “Where?”
“That club? The one you told me about? The fancy one, son. You said that the guy from work invited you all there not too long ago? I’m not really into clubs and bars. It only one could think of!”
Clearing his throat, Miles chuckled with glee. “The strip club we went to for his bachelor party? That Lion’s Club?”
She was blushing now, mortified. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” he laughed.
“This isn’t funny! How catastrophic! Penny will think I’m corrupting her son!”
“Didn’t you sign with my name?”
“Worse, she’ll think you’re corrupting her son!”
He was laughing harder. “For what it’s worth, he might spot a woman he likes!”
“Miles!”
He took it with humor, much to the chagrin of his mother. “Give me his number, then. I’ll tell him to meet at a different place.”
“I don’t have his number!”
“You’re screwed, then.”
“Would you stop?”
“Mother, relax.”
She jerked when his phone began to ring. Put a hand to her heart. “Take it already!” Shoving it at him, she shook her head and left the room, groveling.
“Serves you right for meddling with my plans like that!” With a smirk, he picked up the phone. “Hey, Lena. What's up?”
“Nothing much. Came back from Aspen with the others,” his wife said and gave him a quick rundown of her last days. “What’s new with you?”
“Same old,” he said. “Meeting a client in a strip club Tuesday.” He filled her in on his mother’s latest acts. Taking a seat at the table, he stretched his legs and smiled contently. “Won’t be back before Tuesday, though. Taking a short break.” As much as he loved the buzz of London, the breezy air and wide lawns of his parents’ property on the far outskirts of the city, in this summer’s heat, held a much greater appeal. He’d gotten it for them for their wedding anniversary a few years ago. But he’d been selfish, honestly. He loved it here. Out of convenience, he lived in the center of London. But he couldn’t deny his heart ached for space and a little bit of a green lawn.
“I’m off to New York on Monday,” Lena informed him and for the next couple of minutes, they exchanged their schedules and travel plans. She was working for his company and was responsible for advertising. That’s how they had met, years ago. They had clicked. She had immediately understood how to help him turn Miracle Aligner into the powerhouse dating agency it was today. And because they worked so well professionally, he’d suggested they marry. For PR. As far as the world believed, he and Lena were matched by the app, fell madly in love and married within months. A true success and love story.
She was against monogamy, hated relationships and considered the idea of love at first match laughable, but working for a dating agency, that was not a good image to have and so she’d agreed to his proposal. He’d been very honest from the offset, too. He was gay. But, ten years ago, when things had begun to turn profitable, the idea of love was still based on one woman and one man. Gays had their own apps, his old PR guy had informed him. And, so, he’d moved firmly into the closet, decorated it nicely and appreciated the fact that he still succeeded in living in relative anonymity, which in return allowed him to have the occasional affair and not spark a scandal.
“Tell your mom hi from me and thank her for the book on family planning. Looks nice in the far back of the bookshelf, where it’s doing a fine job of collecting dust!”
He heard the edge in her tone and winced. “Sorry about that. I’ll talk to her.”
She offered a little chuckle. “No need. It’s fine. Just…she’s got all this hope for grandchildren and…I kinda feel bad that you and I won’t ever give her any!”
Panic overcame him. “You…um…want kids?”
“What? No! God no.”
“Oh, thank you!” He let out a deep breath of relief. “Don’t worry, alright! She’ll be fine. She knows that you and I don’t plan on having children. She’s just her usual intrusive self.”
“All’s good. Gotta go, Miles. See you…what, like, next weekend?”
“Sounds about right. Take care, Lena!”
“Bye!”
-
He was lying on top of the bed, legs stretched out wide, windows open, reveling in the gentle wind of the night, which was slightly cooler than the humid and brutal heat that had tortured him all day. Wearing big, cushy headphones, listening to his newest purchase – a rare recording of early The Beatles songs – he only by accident spotted the blinking light of his phone, indicating a new message.
Miles read it.
‘A strip club? Just checking to make sure.’
‘Who is this?’ He texted back.
‘Alex,’ the person replied. Another text followed suit. ‘Alex Turner. My mom knows your mom...’
‘Sorry, yes!’ Miles paused typing. Should he tell him that his mother that set it all up, against his will? Would the guy take offense or feel insulted? From what he knew about him, which, admittedly, was very little, he could only tell that he was rich, successful and not into big circles of friends.
Before he could finish his text, however, Alex already sent another one. ‘So, strip club or not?’
He was impatient, apparently. Miles had just learned something new about him. And since he didn’t like impatient people, he decided not to care too much about whether or not he was in a position to offend him. ‘My mom set it up. She chose the strip club. Long story. We don’t have to meet.’
Miles wondered if Alex would answer. For a while, he only saw those pale little dots blinking, indicating he was writing. But nothing arrived. Until,
‘I’m curious, why would your mom set us up to meet at a strip club?’
He snorted at that. ‘She’s the meddling kind.’
‘That still doesn’t explain the strip club.’
Alex seemed hung up on that part. Not that Miles could blame him. He began to type but, halfway through the text, he realized that this was becoming a longer story and he hated texting, truth be told. Taking his headphones off, he pressed pause on the record player next to his bed and hit ‘dial’. A moment later, Alex picked up. “Hi,” said Miles.
A low, vibrating chuckle came from the other side. “Hello,” replied Alex.
Fuck, thought Miles. That voice. He really had a weakness for a nice, raspy voice. The breathy, thick kind that sounded so damn hot when it whispered filthy things into his ear during sex. Squeezing his eyes, he tried his best to avoid imagining a face to match. Before he’d say even more, sparking fantasies, Miles began to explain things. “From what I’ve been told, you need help with the ladies. My mom thought she’d do your mom a favor. She also forgot that my agency is built around an app and not personal meetings. Never mind that part.”
“Oh, I mind that part very much,” interjected Alex. “First, though. I don’t need help with the ladies,” he clarified, sounding slightly indignant. “I’m doing just fine. But I got a feeling you know a little something about pushy mothers. So, I’ll let that one slide. Second, if I were to need help, I’d be partnered with you, who, you’re saying, put an app into this world and, by conclusion, did not spend the last decade gaining expertise in how to successfully advise singles in need. Am I wrong?”
He was smart, too, and a little cocky. Shit. Miles really liked that kind! “The expertise came before the app arrived,” he countered, a grin on his lips. “And the app is only this successful because of the parameters we, mostly I, supply it with.”
“It’s an app,” Alex stated flatly. “You swipe images.”
“You know it, then?” wondered Miles, interested.
“I’ve seen people use it.”
“But you haven’t tried it?”
“I prefer human interaction when it involves my dating life. Pictures and profiles lie.”
“Not on my app,” Miles felt inclined to point out.
“On every app,” Alex volleyed back. “Doesn’t even matter. Bottom line, you run an app and my mother thought it’d be a good idea you give me dating advice. Not sure what to make of that. Let’s return to the strip club. Why there?”
“Because she’s never been to a club and couldn’t point to one even if she were surrounded by ‘em. She remembered me mentioning that name and promptly used it.”
“You mentioned it?” Alex’s voice took on a more intrigued shade. “Alright. Do you often frequent strip clubs? You’re married, I’ve been told.”
“What else have you been told about me,” Miles wanted to know. He knew little about him. It seemed unfair that his knowledge ran deeper.
“Married, no children. Rich and successful. No children. You own a dating agency, started it right after high school. No children. Notice a pattern?”
“I got no children?” Miles laughed. “Well, you don’t have any, either, I was told. And in the same sentence, I was informed that I was to find you a woman to have children with. Are you planning on having children in the near future? ‘Cause your mother is counting on that, Alex.”
Laughter from him as well. “She’s less concerned about the woman, actually. Kids first. I’m an only child, so, all her hopes rest on me.”
“I know how that feels!”
“At least you’re married.”
“No kids planned, near or far.”
“Ah.”
“Do you mind meeting me at a strip club?” Miles brought the topic back to where things began. “Or would you prefer a different establishment? A gentlemen’s club, like Brooke’s, maybe? Or White’s? A golf club? Dinner at a restaurant? Vegan or Steakhouse? A dive bar—”
“Slow down,” interrupted Alex. “Feels like you’re interviewing me for your app or something. Strip club’s fine.” A chuckle. “What does that say about me, huh?”
“Two things, possibly.”
“Oh yes?”
“Option a, you’re into cheap women and if that’s the case, you’ll be best served not to meet with me, ‘cause that’s not the kind of dating service we supply.”
“What’s option b?”
“You really don’t give a fuck about meeting somebody new.”
“You got me there,” admitted Alex with a laugh.
“In that case, as your dating adviser, tell me why.”
“Dating adviser? You sound like a psychologist! But sure, I’ll play. Let me get comfortable on my couch real quick and get into my role.”
Miles head rustling sounds and chuckled, imagining this faceless man laying down on his fancy leather couch, wearing a mocking smile and little else.
Damnit!
Bad Miles!
He quickly shook his head. Cleared his throat. “Ready?”
“Yes, doctor. Tell me about my fragile mind!”
“Let me ask you about it, first. You’re an only child.” He settled comfortably into his pillows, feeling oddly entertained by it all. “Are you burdened by memories of loneliness and pressure?”
“Very much so, doctor! How good that you asked! I’ve felt so very lonely all my life. And because of that, I hop from one affair to another, trying to quench my endless thirst for love and adoration! I’m desperately trying to find a person to…well…mate with. But I’m just so extremely unsuccessful with the ladies! You can imagine how stressed and horrible my life is! Good doctor, please help!”
Miles liked him. That was a really dangerous development! Alex was funny and quirky and a bit silly, just like he tended to be at times. “Oh dear,” he expressed helplessly, trying to suppress his laughter. “That sounds rather daunting! What a hopeless state you’re in! I prescribe a strip club meeting at your earliest convenience.”
“Is it that grave, doctor?”
“Oh, it’s much worse,” mocked Miles, his voice somber.
“Here’s an honest answer for your profile of me,” supplied Alex. “I like being an only child. Do you?”
“Has its ups and downs,” confessed Miles. “I’d like to know what’s like to have a sibling. But then again, I’m shamelessly bad at sharing things!”
It was Alex’s turn to laugh.
And what a laugh he had. Breathy and vibrant and smooth. Miles bit his lip from grunting. Why did all the sexy voices belong to straight men, huh? Life sucked. And not in the good way!
“Are you really not interested in meeting anybody to grow old with?” asked Miles eventually.
“I don’t mind finding somebody to spend my life with. I just don’t think meeting you will help with that! No offense to you or your app. I genuinely believe that it takes a spark, something like that. You know? Eyes meet, a lingering look or two, some instant attraction…”
“Our app offers all that.”
“Like I said. You swipe images.”
“Point taken.” Not everybody was into instant matches. Miles wasn’t even sure he, himself, was. “So…Tuesday?”
“I’ll be there,” assured Alex. “How will I recognize you?”
“I’m fairly certain you and I will be the only ones there looking slightly out of place. But if it helps, I could put on a royal blue tie.”
“A tie in a strip club? I’ll look for that, then. ‘til Tuesday, Miles.”
“Bye, Alex.”
.
.
Spoiler Chapter 2:
#
Alex hurried to take a sip from his wine, too, to mask the heavy gulp that he needed to make. “Tell me, Mr. Dating Agent Extraordinaire, am I a catch for your portfolio of clients?” He tried changing the topic back to something lighter. “Would I sell well?”
“I doubt anyone would swipe you away,” Miles told him in seriousness.
Would you? Alex liked to ask.
#
“Yes. Thank you for being honest with me.”
“Still willing to let me help you with the ladies?”
The what? Oh. He’d completely forgotten! They had set out to meet for a reason! And that reason was not for Alex to develop a massive crush on a married man! “Sure. Knock yourself out. Advise me. But let’s move to the bar, first. I need something stronger than wine for that!”
#