divorcedlondon

A nurse came to my flat last Saturday and took the DNA samples from my daughter and me.

She used a cotton swap to rub the inside of my cheek and did the same to my little girl before putting each sample into a small phial. I signed a couple of forms and that was it, the nurse was gone.

I arranged for her visit via a private laboratory that I found on the internet. They said they offered a “discreet service” so I knew right away they were the firm for me.

I’m waiting for the results right now. Waiting is never easy, especially when you’re waiting for something this important.

They gave me several options on how they would communicate the results to me; they offered to send someone in person to my flat to give me the news (for an additional charge), they could also telephone me with the results, or they offered a third option, which I went for.

The third option was to receive the results of the paternity test via post. While it may add a day or two to my wait, I decided at the time that this was the easiest way to handle it, whatever the outcome.

I didn’t need some sort of counsellor to tell me face to face and I didn’t want a telephone call that could potentially come any time.

Instead, I’ll wait for the letter, which I can open and read in the privacy of my own home in my own time.

Of course, now that I’m actually waiting, I’m thinking that I should have ticked the box for a phone call. An extra day or two’s waiting won’t kill me, but the sooner I find out the truth the better!

At least the letter didn’t arrive on Tuesday; having my heart broken on the fourteenth of February wouldn’t have been much fun. Anyway, I don’t do irony.

As you can probably tell, I’m expecting the worst possible news.

The weekend was fairly uneventful otherwise. For the most part I stayed in with my little girl. If she is my little girl?

It was an awkward weekend for me; every time I looked at her, I could feel my heart sink just a little bit. I wanted to be the best father in the world! I want so much for my daughter to grown up and have a perfect life!

If she’s not my daughter, I still want nothing but the best for her, but I don’t know if I can be a part of her life. Whenever I try to think about this possible, unpleasant outcome, I feel a bit lost.

I just don’t know what I’ll do.

If the time comes, I’m sure I’ll work it out. I won’t have a choice.

The postman will be delivering my future straight to my letterbox. How surreal is that?

I’ll stop dwelling on this for now; I was hoping I’d know the answer to this rather difficult question before this week finished. That’s looking less likely now.

My jaunt to Manchester didn’t work out exactly as I had planned, though I was able to sort out the business aspects of trip with my usual ease. The unpleasantness with our client has been successfully resolved, thanks to me and my quick thinking!

“Jenny” and I arrived in Manchester late last Thursday afternoon. While on the train, I had arranged for someone senior from our client’s office to meet us at the hotel bar for a casual drink later that evening to chat informally about the problem. “Jenny” and I checked into our adjoining rooms at the hotel and had wee rest before meeting the client.

My plan for this trip was simple; I wanted to shag the ass off of “Jenny”. She’d made it abundantly clear that I could have her if I wanted her, but I was playing a long game and was waiting for the right moment.

Last Thursday night should have been the big night, but things got a little complicated.

How?

Allow me to explain.

We met the client in the hotel bar and right from the outset, he couldn’t hide his attraction to “Jenny”.

Who could blame him? She’s a stunner and imminently shaggable! If his eyes could have actually removed her clothing, “Jenny” would have been nude within seconds!

My discreet mind didn’t miss his attraction to “Jenny”, it was written all over his face like a billboard, in ten-foot high neon letters.

Our client however, was not in “Jenny’s” league, not even close.

He was short, he was fat and he was bald. What woman would ever want a guy like that?

Besides whores, but that’s because they get paid in cash!

We had a couple of drinks and chatted amiably with the client. “Jenny” and I had already dipped into “Wheeler’s” finest, so we were both quite talkative and in good spirits.

I could definitely sense that our client wanted “Jenny” and that got my devious mind working overtime.

I had a rough plan, so I discreetly slipped the wrap of charlie to “Jenny” and she knew to excuse herself to the loo for a toot.

While “Jenny” was gone, I casually mentioned to our client how obvious his lust for “Jenny” was and he just laughed nervously.

I told him that perhaps an accommodation of some sort could be arranged, in the interests of keeping relations between our companies sweet.

The client nervously twisted his wedding ring around his finger as he listened to what I had to say.

I told him while I couldn’t promise him anything just yet; I said I felt confident that I could arrange for “Jenny” to be especially friendly to him in return for a simple professional favour.

A smile stretched across his face as my words sunk in. He responded by saying, “Anything! Name it” and I knew I had him hooked!

Life is simple; my requirement was easy. I asked him to resolve the dispute here and now and in return I’d sort out “Jenny” for him.

Who could possibly refuse such a generous offer?

The client paused for a minute while his brain worked out what he could get away with and only then did he agree to my terms.

Deal done; almost.

I still had the hard part, which was convincing “Jenny” that sleeping with this odious little troll would benefit her, me and most importantly, our firm.

I told the client that when “Jenny” returned, he should excuse himself to the loo and give me five minutes to put in the “good word”.

He was happy enough with that plan and could hardly contain his excitement for what lie ahead. He was like a kid on Christmas if Santa had left him the entire toyshop!

“Jenny” returned wide-eyed and grinning, as “Wheeler’s” stuff worked its magic on her. After a moment or two, the client left the table, leaving us alone briefly. This wasn’t going to take long.

I quickly explained to “Jenny” the situation, letting her know that I’d pretty much solved the problem, but needed her help to close the deal.

She seemed intrigued, so I took things further. I went to the other side of the table and sat next to her. I put my hand on her knee, looked her in the eye and laid the entire situation out for her as gently as I could.

There was a flash in “Jenny’s” eyes as she twigged what I was really asking for and a look of utter dismay on her face as it sunk in. I told her that sometimes you’ve “got to take one for the team” and this was one of those occasions.

I told her it was simple, we could take care of all of this right now via this back door deal and have an easy day on Friday. Or we could try our luck walking through the front door of the company and trying to sort it out at some tedious meeting with the troll and his equally troll-like associates.

“Jenny” said something sweet; she said that she was hoping to spend some time with me.

“Me too, love”, I thought, but sorting this out takes priority.

I felt a bit like a pimp doing this, but I knew in my heart it was the right way to proceed.

It wasn’t as if “Jenny” was a virgin and she’s got a reputation for cheating on her husband anyway, so this shouldn’t have been a big deal for her. Her reservations, which she confided in me, concerned her potential partner.

She described him as “repulsive” and “loathsome” which wasn’t unreasonable for her to say, but I was guessing she’d been had by worse. I didn’t share that thought with her. I didn’t have to sleep with him, so it was easy enough for me.

In the end, “Jenny” relented and when our client returned, I gave him a subtle nod and a wink and he knew that the arrangement had been made.

I ordered a bottle of champagne and sent “Jenny” back to the loo with the charlie, thinking she was going to need it more than I would!

I let our client know that I expected him to arrange for a cheque for their outstanding debt to be cut in time for me to hand-carry it back to London on Friday.

He ummm’d and ahhh’d a bit, so I gave him my “serious face” and told him this was a deal-breaker. He relented, though I could tell he wasn’t best pleased.

It’s understandable; finance directors and accountants are pricks of the highest order. I expected it wouldn’t be easy for him to get a big cheque cut on short notice, on a Friday no less, but that wasn’t my problem.

At this point, all of my problems were solved, so I really didn’t give a shit.

Sure, I was disappointed that my golden opportunity with “Jenny” had slipped from my fingers, but it was by choice. I knew that other chances would present themselves in due course. I’m can be a patient guy! I’m playing a long game.

When “Jenny” returned, we cracked open the champers and toasted this new understanding between our two firms. Result!

“Jenny” put it off as long as she could, but eventually she had to invite the client back to her room.

As I watched them head towards the lift, all I could think is that “Jenny” had in this one act, redefined the term “walk of shame”.

As I sat there, finishing off the last drops of the champagne, I tried to imagine the client’s hulking, sweaty frame, on top of “Jenny”, pumping and grinding against her thin, lithe body. It nearly made me lose me dinner!

“Jenny” deserves an award for her service in the field, above and beyond the normal call of duty! She’s a real trooper!

I went back to my room and toyed with the idea of booking a whore, but my independent escort website has me spoiled. I like looking at the whore’s photos and choosing the one that looks the best.

I had my PowerBook with me, but the wi-fi in the hotel was down, which was quite annoying, otherwise I could have searched that particular site for a local, Manchester-based hooker.

If I was really thinking ahead, I could have done this before I left London, but I was counting on a taste of “Jenny” so I didn’t think of a contingency plan.

There’s no such thing as a sure thing, even with a sure thing like “Jenny”!

Always have a stand-by option!

I couldn’t bring myself to book a prossie sight unseen, so I left it for the night and eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, “Jenny” and I met for breakfast prior to our appointment at the client’s office. She looked very unhappy and hung over. I thanked her again for doing the unthinkable. At least she spared me the details.

The client was as good as his word. When we arrived for the meeting, he explained to the other managers that we had managed to resolve our differences at our informal meeting the previous night. He also said he looked forward to our future business dealings and shot a quick look at “Jenny” as he did.

He then presented me with an envelope, which contained a big, fat cheque, thus clearing their outstanding debt with us.

To show our thanks, we took them all out for a slap-up lunch, before jumping on the train back to London. At lunch, “Jenny” sat as far away from the troll as possible and I don’t think she so much as glanced in his general direction once.

Once we got back to London, we went straight to office and I reported directly to the MD. I didn’t say anything at first when went to see him, I just handed him the envelope silently. He opened it up, withdrew the contents then looked up at me, wide-eyed.

“How did you manage that?” he asked somewhat flummoxed by this unexpected delivery.

“Simple”, I told him, “I’m so shit hot, I’m on fire.” He chuckled at that, but he couldn’t argue with it either.

I wasn’t about to tell him I pimped a member of my staff’s ass out to some disgusting troll just so we’d get paid. Some things are best kept to oneself.

Or maybe, he would have been bowled over by my ingenuity and creative thinking. I shouldn’t be greedy; having that cheque in his hands should have scored me maximum points without any further embellishments.

After that, I went to see “Wheeler” to stock up for the weekend.

His stuff may not be the best, but it’s consistent and at least I’m able to still buy from him. I’ve tried to tell him that his stuff would be better without the speed, but he maintains his customers prefer it.

His customer base is pretty much my entire office, so perhaps I should take a straw poll.

I did make a brief appearance at the big office party, but didn’t stay very long. To be honest, I didn’t get the hero’s welcome I was hoping for and so richly deserved after salvaging this big contract in the eleventh hour.

Screw ‘em!

It didn’t matter, I was late meeting my ex-wife at my flat and she had the nerve to complain I kept her waiting!

I have a life too, you know!

My daughter was actually very easy to care for; she is always so well behaved. She’s a little angel all weekend and didn’t cause me any bother!

I really didn’t do much over the weekend; I just tried to make the most of being with my daughter. It wasn’t easy, with this entire mess hanging over me, but I tried.

Can babies pick up on their parent’s feelings? My guess is they can. Still, I hope not.

As I mentioned earlier, it was Valentine’s Day this week. I hope you all got lots of choccies and some really hot sex! I wasn’t nearly that lucky.

I received only one card on Tuesday; it was from “Tanya” the teacher. The gesture seemed like the last desperate act of a desperate woman.

The final time I saw “Tanya” it didn’t go so well, largely because of her ill-mannered children. I haven’t spoken to her since then, though she has left me a couple of voicemails on my second, secret mobile phone.

I’ve ignored them all, just as I ignored her card. If she didn’t get the message before, I’m sure it’s coming in loud and clear now.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like her, because I did. Plus she gave great head, but the whole package, which included her little brats, was more than I could handle. It was a lot more than I was looking for.

So now, my plan is to aim for slightly younger, childless women on that dating website. I’ve taken a couple of more steps and fired off a few more emails and I’m still waiting for replies. If I’m lucky, perhaps I’ll find a new playmate for this coming weekend.

I’ve also got a few new adverts running on craigslist and Gumtree. I’m not going to tell you what they say, but I’m taking a new approach. Perhaps it will help end my dry spell on the sleazy contact sites.

And if I don’t find someone that way, I’ve always got my other website with the independent prossies, so I could just book someone to come over.

Basically, no matter what, I’m going to get some action this coming weekend! I deserve it!

And speaking of my favourite whore website, this week’s discovery genuinely plumbs a brand new low.

There’s a woman on the site advertising herself under the name of “Period Penny” and guess what she offers, at quite a high rate…?

Yes, I bet you worked it out already. She’s available for any kind of sex you require, during her monthly visit! She’ll let you fuck her and eat her while she’s bleeding! Even worse, for an added charge, she will let you have some of her used tampons!

Well it makes sense, since she can only really work five days a month, so she needs to maximise her earning potential while she can.

This is by far the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard of, it even beats “hardsports” and “lactation”!

I can’t imagine anything will ever top this one, but I shouldn’t speak too soon. Who knows what I’ll discover next week!

By far the best thing about the previous week or so is I have not had one single email from my stalker. Well, not since I hit her with my discreet revenge plan! I bet you she’s still steamed over how I put one over on her!

Let that be a lesson for anyone who tries to fuck with discreetlondon!

You can try to best me, as other’s have before, but you will never, ever beat me. I’m far too clever for anyone to ever win!

I don’t have much to report from my office this week, I’ve settled back into having nothing to do. The Creative Director popped into my office the other day to “run something by me.”

The CD has been trying to think of ways to raise the profile of our firm. He’s convinced the MD that we should do some work for free, for a charity. He wants to have a meeting next week with all the senior managers and directors to “brain storm” on how best to approach this to maximise our exposure.

What do I know about charity other than it should begin at home! This meeting is going to be another one of the CD’s snooze fests; I can just sense it!

Perhaps it’s time my “bad back” started acting up again! Or maybe I should try the old “working from home” wheeze again?

I’m still in my office; I’ve stayed late to finish this entry. Well, that and I’m really not in any hurry to go home. Even though waiting for the DNA results is hard, opening that envelope is going to be harder.

And right now, it could be waiting for me in my post box. But I’ve finished this entry now and all I’ve got left to do is publish it.

I can’t put it off any longer. I’m going to go back to my flat now.