Finding the One

This is the first chapter of an eight chapter story. The total word count is roughly 32k, so the chapters will be rather short. The story is finished and I will post the next chapter in a few days.

While the first few chapters could easily be categorised differently - erotic couplings - I put them into Romance because of the over-all theme. It will become romantic in later chapters.

My thanks go to Joffa for providing his spelling and grammar expertise. His help is highly appreciated. If any errors remain, I'm sure they happened after his editing.

Please vote and/or leave comments. It is your feedback which fuels my motivation.

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Ch. 01: Breaking up with Anna

"Oh, yes! Yes! Like that! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!" she moaned repeatedly.

I didn't understand what it was but she just didn't sound sincere. Kind of like a porn actress.

"Oh, God! Harder! Faster!"

I had been dating Anna for just over a month now but always had the impression that she was holding back. Even during sex she just seemed fake.

"Oh, yes! You fuck me so well!"

Maybe I should have anticipated this; her whole appearance was faked with silicone, surgeries and Botox despite her being just thirty-two years old.

"Oh, God, yes! I'm cumming! Oh, yes!"

I didn't believe her, we had barely started and she had skipped foreplay almost completely. Also, I missed all the small telling signs. But nonetheless, I strengthened my grip on her hips and kept pounding her from behind in the hope of pushing her over the edge. The missing connection also made the sex feel hollow. It's not that I didn't enjoy a good fuck and she sure felt great around my cock but without an emotional investment, it just didn't feel right.

She kept blaring about how well I was fucking her until I finally felt my balls start to burn, "Cumming, too!"

With an exaggerated groan, I filled the condom I had put on despite her repeated pleas and promises that she was both clean and on the pill.

"That was really great, baby," she cooed as we lay on the bed afterwards.

"Yes, it was," I lied when in reality it had felt like masturbating to badly acted porn.

"Baby, I'll have to go up early tomorrow and would prefer to be at home where I have my clothes. You don't mind if I leave you here alone tonight and we meet tomorrow evening at the restaurant?"

"No. It's ok. I can see your point. See you tomorrow at six."

So no cuddling today either. This confirmed that she was not really emotionally invested in this relationship. After a month together she had not kept a single piece of clothing and no toiletries at my place. I had to accept that and prepare myself for the inevitable.

Anna dressed in record time without talking much more. I took her to the door, gave her a kiss on the cheek, watched her get into her BMW convertible and drive away.

She was the daughter and Chief Marketing Officer of a business partner of mine. Or an acquisition target, rather. We had a lot in common. We were both in the IT security business. We were more or less the same age. We both put in more hours in our respective companies than probably was healthy. But somehow we didn't connect.

I took a shower and went downstairs in the living room. I had several files for new employees in customisation coding to go through. Diving into work has always proven to be a good method to avoid self-reflection. I worked until I could barely keep my eyes open. Instead of going upstairs I just lay down on the couch and fell asleep.

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I spent the next morning discussing the potential candidates for coding with the relevant team leader. We agreed on eight of the applicants which he would invite for the first round of interviews. I wouldn't be involved again until the second round when the list of candidates would have been reduced to three and the final decision would be taken.

The afternoon was spent on preparations for the acquisition meeting. Charles, my CFO, had conducted a very thorough due diligence and presented his findings. We prepared for what would be tough negotiations. Like many owners of SME's, Jack, Anna's father, had unrealistic perceptions about his company's worth. It might have been more valuable before but nowhere in the range of what he wanted and on top of that some bad decisions and an unsuccessful marketing department, led by his daughter Anna, had further deteriorated that value. They held two patents I was interested in but Jack insisted on selling the whole company. It made me assume that he knew about the upcoming liquidity problems.

We met at an upscale restaurant and had quickly moved beyond the small talk to business.

"Come on! Show some sense," Anna's father complained to me.

"I do show sense, contrary to you," I replied. "Our analysis of your books tells me that you will run out of cash within nine to twelve months unless you get a really successful product going but your pipeline doesn't contain anything looking promising. Time is on my side in this deal. I'm already extremely generous with the price I offer. My CFO thinks I'm crazy because in a year I can buy the patents at a cut-down-price from the insolvency practitioner without having to worry about oversized corporate overhead and inefficient processes."

"What do you mean by 'oversized corporate overhead'?"

"I have five times as many employees as you have but employ the same number of FTEs in the overhead functions such as Finance, HR or Legal, departments that are not working directly for the customer. That's what I mean by oversized. You have forty employees of which fifteen don't generate value for the company. I have two hundred employees and also have fifteen FTEs in overhead."

"Are you telling me that you would lay off staff after the merger? I cannot accept that. They are like children to me."

"I'm sorry but this is not a merger, this is a take-over. I only want to buy the two patents but you insist on selling the company as a whole. That forces me to buy and integrate your company into mine. It is unavoidable that I reduce staff numbers in order to achieve a turnaround. I can't have a sub-department draining cash at the rate you're doing it now."

"But, Marc, you're dating my daughter!"

Was this behind her dating me? Were they trying to soften my stance?

"What has this got to do with it? Just because I'm dating your daughter, doesn't mean I make unsound business decisions."

"What are you trying to say? Dating me is an 'unsound decision'?"

"No. What I'm saying is that you are part of my private life and the transaction we are currently discussing is part of my business life."

"Sweetheart, this is Dad's baby. Can't you increase the offer a bit more? Fifteen percent? For me?"

"Sorry, but no. This offer is final and valid only until we stand up from this table. Take it or leave it."

Jack snorted angrily, not pleased with my negotiation tactic.

"But I can keep my marketing staff?" Anna enquired. She had always given me a rather opportunistic impression but, looking for a relationship, I had been willing to look past that.

"I'm afraid that most of the overhead will need to leave. I will keep most of the programming staff if they want to stay, a small part of the sales team and maybe one each from finance and HR to make the transition as smooth as possible."

"What?!" Anna jumped up, "Last night I let you fuck me and now you tell me you will fire me when the deal goes through?! You bloody, motherfucking son of a bitch!"

Before I had time to counter that she would certainly fit in my marketing department, she grabbed the glass of water in front of her and doused it in my face before I had the chance to make a single move to defend myself. She turned and stormed angrily out of the restaurant.

Jack rose as well, "This is totally unacceptable. The deal is off." He followed his daughter out of the room.

I picked up my napkin and tried to salvage some of my dignity by calmly drying the water off my face and shirt.

"Helen, don't say it." I didn't look at her while I spoke. I could feel her disapproving eyes on me.

"I haven't said a word."

"Don't think it so loud."

"You don't allow me any fun," she chuckled. Helen had been my first employee, was my personal assistant and, over the last seven years, we had become close friends. While I encouraged all my staff to speak freely, she could take liberties no one else could. She was fifty-seven and looked like a nice lady who wouldn't kill a mosquito she saw stinging her but I had seen her in action when she was angered by somebody. Once, Charles, my then recently hired accountant, had gotten on the wrong side of her when she had called his attention to a mistake he had made in a presentation and he had degraded her by doubting her qualification to understand his statements. He was more than a head taller than she was but when she was finished with him he withdrew like Napoleon after his failed invasion of Russia.

"Ok. You told me. You told me that dating Anna was a bad idea. And yes, you were right. You see any chance to salvage this? Without me marrying her!"

"I'm afraid no. But maybe Jack comes back in a few months. I'm quite sure he knows about the upcoming liquidity problems. He didn't even blink when you told him he'd be bankrupt in twelve months."

"Waiter? Can you please cancel the orders of the two that left? But this smart and beautiful woman and I will still enjoy your wonderful restaurant," I told him as I saw no reason to skip dinner despite this fiasco.

"Helen, my friend," I always used this opening when I wanted to signal that I didn't address my employee. "Tell me. Have I ever messed up a business decision as bad as this one?"

"None that I remember. But I still wonder why you suddenly thought it was a good idea to mix private and business life. Over the past seven years, you have repeatedly told me that you would never do that. So why this time?"

"I don't know. Anna and I have many things in common but somewhere along the road, it has taken a wrong turn. Man, I feel like the biggest idiot on earth."

"And rightly so. But that's not what I asked. I asked why you mixed private and business."

"I thought I didn't. I really thought she dated me and not the owner of SecurITy."

"You can lie to yourself and whoever you want to but not me. I have a different theory. Care to hear?"

"Why do I get the impression that you're about to say something I don't want to hear?"

"You're tired of playing the game over and over again. You've dated more than just your fair share of women and you never had problems finding a bed bunny if you wanted one but you want more than that. You need a partner by your side. I've noticed how you look at couples on the street or in restaurants. You know you're missing out on something, you know that life does not consist of work, money and sex alone. So my theory is that you dated her because you are looking for somebody to fill the void in your heart. You are thirty years old, you hear the clock tick."

"It's not as if I don't try. Believe it or not, I'm not out there looking for sex. I am trying to find somebody to share my life with."

"And you thought that dating the daughter of your acquisition target is a good way forward? Come on. You're smarter than that."

"Hindsight is a funny thing."

"I saw this coming a month ago when you started dating her and I told you so. You founded SecurITy seven years ago straight out of University with a brilliant business plan and an even better software. Since then you have turned this company into one of the market leaders for corporate security solutions. You have hired more than two hundred employees, you have become a force to be reckoned with. You have lived for this company, you gave it everything you have and you have become rich in the process. But money can't buy you happiness. You paid for your success with your family life, personal development and loneliness. And Anna was an ill-conceived attempt to compensate."

"That's just not true. I have Andrea, Pat and Diana. They are all the family I need," I tried to sound convincing but even I could hear that I failed. I missed my brother a lot and also my parents although they had died only a few weeks apart while I was still attending University, my mother from ALS, my father from cancer.

"Bullshit. Sister-in-laws, nephews and nieces don't count. You need somebody who unwinds you, who takes your thoughts of the company; somebody who massages your shoulders when you get home from a tough day, somebody who listens to you complaining about that bitchy personal assistant of yours or just holds you when you need it."

"Well, I have you," I tried to weasel out.

"The day you ask me to massage your shoulders, I'll quit," she laughed. "But seriously, Marc, think about it. I know for sure that there are dozens of women out there just waiting for you to give the smallest sign of being on the market."

"Gold-diggers."

"Maybe, maybe not. You remember that magazine that wanted to make a feature of you as the bachelor of the year? They'd be on you in a heartbeat."

"I threatened to destroy their entire IT-network if they published the feature. I had an immediately enforceable injunction issued by the courts to stop the issue from being printed. I don't want to fend off all those gold-diggers that would come hunting me. I don't want a trophy wife. Just take Anna as an example. Why did she engage in a relationship? Obviously, it was not because of my personality or my looks but because of my money, because she hoped to improve the deal for her father and because she hoped to further her own career. Honestly, I'd rather pay a hooker than engage in such a relationship again."

"Don't say such a thing, Marc. I'd really hate to see you waste an opportunity to become complete and happy."

We finished the dinner talking through various business topics. But the thoughts of my non-existent private life, apart from my sister-in-law and her children, kept nagging at the back of my head.

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Later that evening, I had just gotten in the car to drive home, Anna called and asked if she could come over. She wanted to apologise for her outbreak in the restaurant and make amends. I declined but agreed to meet her in the Starbucks close to her place.

I arrived first and ordered a coffee. While waiting I pulled out my tablet to start a mind map in order to find alternative ways to compensate for the missing patents. When Anna arrived, she ordered while walking past the bar and sat down next to me.

"I'm really sorry for my outburst. I understand that you must do what you think is best for the company."

"I haven't behaved at my best either. I accept your apology and offer one to you for my mistakes."

"Thank you. So are we good? Want to go home and have some make-up sex?"

"Anna, I really don't think that this is a good idea. I don't think that we will work out and we should break up."

She started crying, "But I love you!"

"I don't think you do. And I know now that I don't love you."

"But what we have is special!"

"Anna, please drop it. It's over."

"But Marc..."

"Anna, no. If your father wants to sell his company, I will listen to him but you and I are over."

The dialogue went on for some time but despite Anna begging me not to break up I stood my ground.

"You bastard, I faked every orgasm when we had sex. And don't think you will ever get your hands on our company!"

For the second time that day I had a beverage thrown in my face but this time it wasn't water, it was her 'Non-Fat Decaf Frappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate sauce' she hadn't yet finished. Fortunately, it had cooled down quite a bit while we had been talking. The waitress approached me with a towel in her hands.

"Need a hand cleaning up?"

"I'll manage on my own, thanks," I replied while accepting the towel from her.

"At least you had the decency to talk to her. My Ex-boyfriend broke up with a text."

"Sorry to hear."

"I'm off duty in fifteen minutes. Want to go and have a beer somewhere and tell me where it went wrong?"

I was used to women approaching me rather bluntly. I was no Adonis but rather good looking, in good shape, I weighed one hundred and eighty-seven pounds at six foot one owed to regular visits at a fitness studio, and I was told that I radiated the confidence of a man who is used to success. But this was audacious.

"Seriously? You just saw me go through a messy break up with my girlfriend literally one minute ago, I'm drenched in coffee and you're trying to ask me out?"

"Well, she is your Ex now and, if my intuition is as right as it usually is, you're not the type who needs long to find another girl. Carpe diem! Or rather Carpe 'whatever opportunity is in Latin'."

"As I don't want any beverages thrown at me for the next few weeks my answer is thanks, but no thanks. I need to get a shower and go to bed. I have a long day tomorrow."

I shook my head. I hadn't been fully invested in the relationship with Anna either but at least I ended it cleanly but I had ruined an important business decision by mixing my private life with business. I swore to myself that this wouldn't happen again. From now on, I would focus on business and stop this whole dating nonsense. The only thing that has ever resulted from dating was meaningless sex, tears and a waste of time. And I could get meaningless sex from a hooker if I needed to get my rocks off.

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On Saturday evening I took my nephew Pat to a dance club. It was the day after his eighteenth birthday. The club was like many others; lots of flashing lights, a good sound machine and a really strong baseline to the music. I didn't know how exactly they made it but somehow they had managed to focus the sound around the dancefloor. Here at the bar, you could talk almost with a regular voice.

I leant on the wall, nodding with the beat, sipping my water and watched my nephew make a fool of himself as he tried to chat up a girl on the dance floor. I decided I had seen enough and walked over. I signalled the girl I'd borrow him for just a minute.

"Don't talk on the dancefloor, you dumbass, dance!" I told him, once we were off the floor. "When you get her a drink at the bar is the time to talk!"

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. There is a reason it is called 'dancefloor'. Go dance with her and in fifteen minutes or whenever she wants to, you take her to the bar and get her whatever she wants. Put it on my tab, the barkeeper is informed. Don't drink too much alcohol yourself or you'll make a fool of yourself. Take some water with whatever you get for yourself and drink both," I instructed him before adding, "Now go! Make your uncle proud!"

With a pat on the shoulder, I sent him back to the dancefloor. It was the first, and probably last, time that I had taken my nephew Pat to a club. Yesterday had been his birthday and, after prior consultation with Andrea, I had brought him today to this dance club as my gift. My brother, ten years my senior, had been twenty-two years old when Andrea, his girlfriend, had become pregnant. They married in haste but, despite the less than ideal circumstances, led a good partnership until he died in a car accident three years ago. Andrea was left behind with Pat and Diana.

I went back to 'my' spot at the wall next to the bar and continued observing Pat. I didn't notice the young woman that approached me until she tapped my shoulder. I looked over and noticed a good looking brunette with long straight hair, aged somewhere in the mid-twenties. The moment I looked into her eyes I felt something I can only compare to being tasered. I was momentarily stunned.

"Hi," she said, raising her glass of whatever in my direction.

"Yeah, hi," I replied, gathering my brain cells just in time to compile a somewhat proper reply. It wasn't my brightest moment but it was at least a coherent reaction.