Something was not quite right.

From the moment Mr Graham walked in and introduced his wife I had a suspicion.

I was at a business breakfast organised by the Chambers of Commerce. The guest speaker was Mr Gordon Graham. Mr Graham is a tall, white-haired, energetic handsome man. He’s incredibly successful in his area of business and has made another fortune on the speaking circuit. When it was announced he would be he keynote speaker for the event tickets sold out fast.

His wife was stunning. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She wore aangelina dress back shot black Angelina dress – elegant and alluring.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling I had seen her before.

She smile prettily and sat close to her husband, they laughed and whispered like newlyweds.

When the time came Mr Graham stood up, to thunderous applause, gave his wife’s shoulder a squeeze, and walked to the dais. He spoke without notes, his deep rich voice filling the dining hall. For the next forty minutes he enthralled and educated every spellbound person in the room.

Everyone, except me.

I only had eyes for his wife.

I shifted around the table so I sat next to her and introduced myself. She smiled confidently and shook my hand, looking me in the eye. “You make a good couple,” I said, not really sure how to begin.

“Thankyou.” She turned back to watch her husband.

There was something infuriatingly familiar about her. “Mrs Graham, are you a model?”

She spoke over her shoulder, “I’ve done some modelling work, on and off; but not currently, no.”

I edged farther out on my seat to try to see more of her exquisite face. “Have you and Mr Graham been married long?”

She smiled broadly, at some personal joke. “Not long, no.”

“Did you meet through business?” I asked.

She began to laugh, but choked it down. “You could say that.”

Mr Gordon Graham travels the world, speaking at business gatherings, a great deal. In fact, he’s rarely at his business anymore. When he attends these gatherings it’s expected he bring his wife – these are, after all, supposed to be social gatherings.

His ‘wife’ when he is in Sydney is an escort from the Red Door Agency. She is arguably the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, she is discrete and a perfect companion for such events, and Gordon Graham is evidently taken with her.

And who wouldn’t be?

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