Simon Marsh の小説・ストーリー

“I do hate the city. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy a party when I’m invited to one.” Richard couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Simon Walsh had always been an arrogant bastard. Despite the fact that they were both successful businessmen, Simon always seemed to have everything Richard didn’t. He was more famous, more popular, and more beloved by the investors. He was the man who everyone wanted to be associated with, and Richard couldn’t stand him for it.

Marisa was sweeping the front steps when she saw them arrive. “Ah! You came back!” she exclaimed brightly. “And you brought a friend!” Simon stepped forward, heart pounding. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m... I’m Simon Meyers.” Marisa tilted her head, then beamed. “Ah, si kano! Come, come.” Inside, Ramon sat at the table reading a worn newspaper. He looked up when the door opened. His eyes lingered on Simon with quiet curiosity. “Sir,” Simon said respectfully, his palms slightly sweaty. “My name is Simon. I work at Clark Airfield. I came to formally introduce myself... and to speak with you about Leonora.”

Callum has strawberry blonde hair and has a fair skin tone, his face is more chiselled than Luke’s and he is the smallest of the four but he knows how to pack a punch. Finally there is Simon, he is a skinny guy who is just starting out to define his muscles, he has light brown hair and green eyes and his face is very soft. “Any problems today gents?” I ask as Brian shakes his head. “No sir, he has been quiet the whole day. I think his body is slowly shutting down.” I nod my head as I walk towards the vault doors, “Simon bring me a bottle of water and bread. Let's see if we can make him talk while dangling something he needs in front of him.”

"Hey! Harris, long time no see!" "That's right! Long time no see!" Richard Harris thought that although they hadn't met in person, they frequently made long-distance phone calls. He knew all about Simon's skills in charming women! Simon was his close friend from college! He is a playboy with a carefree attitude, but it's no wonder, at a young age, he was already the heir to the Efron family, living a carefree life. Who said he was the only son of the Efron family?

The man stretched out his arm to shake his hand with Liam as he replied, "it's ,Simon… Simon Tate." Simon had a foreign accent, which just showed Liam that he might not be from this country. Liam smiled and nodded as he firmly shook the man's hand. "Okay, Mr. Simon, it's nice to meet you." Liam replied nonchalantly. "No, the pleasure is mine Mr Steinfeld, I have been waiting to meet you for a couple of days now…." Simon sighed in relief, and then he continued his sentence, "But boy am I glad to have finally found you."

“Just breathe. Focus.” Alex clenched his fists, his knuckles white. “I can’t… I can’t let her go,” he muttered. “She promised… she promised me, Simon.” Simon swallowed hard. He had always respected Alex for his strength, his ruthlessness in business, but moments like this reminded him that underneath all the power and control, Alex was just a man—a man deeply in love, heartbroken, and tormented by his memories. “Boss, I need you to listen,” Simon said, his voice steady. “We got news about Martha. She tried to take her own life. The detectives managed to save her, but she’s in critical condition.”

“Who’s Simon?” “Oh, man.” Mia reached for a quesadilla. “Simon Yates is only the hottest kickboxer in the game, ladies. He trains with Adam and Nick, and he’s Mitch’s sparring partner. You’ll have seen him in those ads for Coles Jeans… the blond guy with the perfect chest and ass?” Maggie gazed at Reena. “That guy?” “Yeah.” Reena went back to the kitchen and got the pitcher of Margaritas. “Yeah, we’ve been on six dates.”

She called after him, just as he was about to shut the door. Leaving the room, Simon headed outside. He was dressed in a white tee-shirt and brown leather shorts. One of the latest collections from the Saden-Men, a designer brand that sent him samples of most of their new collections before it hit the market. With Simon being a fashionable man, they believed that he was the best person to offer their brand the visibility and brand identity they needed. He stepped onto the porch. The afternoon sun felt warm on his skin, with a mix of the chilly wind coming from the surrounding plants in the environment, causing a warm and chilly feeling at the same time. It felt awesome.

"No. Tell me what's happening. Who is this man? Why is he calling you 'sir'?" "Please. Just trust me and go inside." "Trust you? I don't even know who you are!" Marcus looked between us. "Should I come back?" "No," Simon said. Then to me, softer, "Victoria, I will explain everything. But not right now. Please." There was something almost desperate in his voice. I looked at Marcus. At his expensive suit. His professional demeanor. The way he deferred to Simon. This wasn't a random friend. This was an employee, or security, or something.

Substance. Lying on his bed, dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants, Simon browsed through various female streamers on his laptop. His gold-rimmed glasses glinted under the reading lamp. One after another, he swiped left, unimpressed. The filters were cranked too high. Most of the women wouldn’t look half as good in real life. At thirty-two, Simon had the air of someone who’d seen too much and learned to be immune to superficial charm.