Wrestling One Shots

Arrangements - Part 1

The sound of high heels hitting expensive flooring echoed throughout the empty office space. My day was over, but my assistant told me, just as I was leaving, that my boss was looking for me. As she headed out, I switched directions and walked to his office. At this point, I've been here for so long that I don't wait for him to respond when I knock, I simply knock to notify him of my presence and walk in.

Drew McIntyre is a big man. He towers over his desk, all broad shoulders moving into a tapered waist, arms that bulge in his tailored suits, and long legs with thick thighs that leave no room for imagination on his rigorous love affair with the gym. He has long black hair that hangs to his shoulders but always has it up in a sleek bun at the office and a well-kept beard. The devastatingly beautiful attributes are the blue eyes, light as the sky on a perfect summer day, and the thick Scottish accent. The man is just gorgeous.

He's also deadly when necessary. Drew McIntyre inherited his father's business, a real estate company known all around the world. It's also a huge front for the Mafia. The Scottish family doesn't play preference with anyone, but this real estate business is a big front for mafia money laundering through property purchases. I've known since before I started working here when it first opened, and I was just barely 17. I got out of a ... bad situation, and Mr. McIntyre Sr took me in. He saved my life. In gratitude, I've helped him run this business, and now I help his son.

"You called?" I asked him, dropping into one of the seats in front of his desk,

"Your assistant is fast." he chuckled.

"I taught her well." I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "What's on your mind, Drew?"

"Come, sit with me, Francheska." he sighed, placing his hand on my waist to accompany me to the sofa against the opposite wall.

"Not sure if I like this, you're starting with the full name." I said when I saw a folder on the coffee table in front of it.

"I have a favor to ask." he smiled, but it was forced, I know him well.

"I'm not sleeping with anyone to get a sale."

"What?" he asked, laughing.

"That looks like a new contract, and it isn't one I drafted or approved so that means this isn't going through official channels. I will not sleep with anyone." I told him.

"That's not what this is. It's an ... offer."

"My salary is already generous." I argued.

"Yes, and you deserve every penny of it. I have ... you know of my family, Frankie."

"I do."

"My grandfather was given 6-8 months to live." he sighed, and my heart dropped.

"Andrew, I'm so sorry." I said, taking one of his hands in mine.

"He knew about the cancer but didn't tell any of us."

"I'm so sorry, I know how much you love him. What do you need from me?"

"My family ... they've been ... nagging me, I haven't started a family yet, I haven't settled down." He said, not making sense.

"Drew, what's going on?"

"This contract," he said, grabbing the file. "It's a personal contract ... private. Only you and I will see it."

"What does this have to ..."

"My grandfather is leaving me property, money, and things to me when he passes." he said, and I'm just really confused.

"Drew, look at me. Where is this going?" I asked, starting to worry about him.