Best Friend's Daddy (Forever Daddies Book 3)

by Victoria Snow

“I’m the type of guy who doesn’t settle for mediocre,” the voiceover said. “That’s why I make sure I only work with the best of the best, and I’m ready to go the distance for it.”

  What the actual hell. Could this possibly get any cheesier?

  As if by thinking it, I’d jinxed it or called it into being. Sure enough, the show got worse.

  The title card showed with some kind of intense music that sounded like it belonged on a cop procedural or a crazy competition reality show like Survivor instead of on a damn cooking show. I could feel Brooke practically vibrating next to me, making small scoffing and choking noises in response to what was happening on screen.

  As if my damn mood hadn’t been bad enough already.

  Theo pranced around in front of the camera, acting like the prince of cooking, talking about various tried-and-true recipes and explaining how he’d ‘elevated’ them, implying that the way everyone else was doing it was wrong and that you were just as stupid if you enjoyed that usual way. It was the height of pretentiousness and arrogance, and he was talking about making dishes way more complicated than they needed to be.

  Despite it being a show supposedly just about himself and his life, the flashes we got of his apartment looked like he couldn’t even live there, everything was so clean and neat and sparkling. Everything looked like a show room, like it couldn’t be moved or touched.

  God, I hated his fucking smug and smarmy face. Everything about him that I had once valued was gone, and everything I’d ever found annoying or frustrating about him was dialed up to eleven. He was basically just showing off for the camera for an hour. Was this what people wanted to see? Some arrogant asshole just talking about himself for eternity?

  It was boring as hell, and if I’d just been a normal viewer flipping channels, I would’ve switched to the football game or a rerun of a sitcom long ago.

  Virginia actually got some screen time, though. That surprised me. Not because I’d thought that she wouldn’t want it - of course she would have, she’d seek all the attention that she could -but I hadn’t thought that the producers would want her in it. After all, Virginia wasn’t the award-winning chef in the equation.

  But there she was, simpering and smiling at Theo, practically clinging to him, giving him these big doe eyes and talking about how amazing he was to the camera in the talking head interviews.

  Brooke put her hand on my shoulder, probably thinking to reassure and steady me, but honestly, it didn’t affect me. I just felt… sorry for Virginia. The woman that I had fallen in love with all those years ago had been a bright and vibrant person. She had known what she wanted in life and she had been determined to get it, whether that was the latest pair of shoes or the restaurant or me. That had clearly later backfired on my ass when she’d decided that what she wanted was Theo and to hell with me and our daughter but. Anyway.

  She had been someone worth falling in love with, was my point. She had been someone with a lot of good qualities.

  Now, I couldn’t see any of those. I just saw this… this woman with no personality other than gushing about her lover. Husband? I wasn’t sure if she and Theo were married, and I found that I didn’t even care. I felt bad for her, sorry for her, to see this person who had once been so great, at least in my eyes, sink down to this level.

  But I really didn’t care all that much about her. Seeing her didn’t affect me. After the devastation that she’d caused, it was a relief. A revelation.

  And it was all because of Stevie.

  I had someone else who fit me even better, someone that I could admire and love even more than Virginia. Stevie complimented me in a way that Virginia never had, a way that I had been too blind to see or had overlooked because I had wanted to believe in the good things and I’d loved her to distraction. But God, seeing her was just leaving me dead inside. Stevie lit me up.

  Brooke sniffled, and I realized my daughter was starting to cry. I quickly hit pause on the video and turned to her. “Hey, honey, it’s okay.”

  Brooke shook her head. “It’s not, it’s really not. I can’t believe, they’ve sold out. That’s not proper cooking. That’s just Theo talking about nothing for an hour. Look at what he was doing, what, just showing off fancy knife skills as he cut some vegetable? Going on and on about all his fancy pants experiences… I’m so ashamed, Dad.”

  I handed her some tissues, rage boiling in me. I didn’t care about Virginia and honestly… I was surprised by how little I cared about Theo, too. Let them go and have their precious reality show. Who gave a fuck? Not me. I had my own life to worry about. And my life actually had substance.

  But Brooke—Brooke didn’t deserve to feel like this. I wanted to punch Theo in the face and read Virginia the riot act for making my daughter feel this shitty. Brooke was a good girl and she’d been as patient as she could be through all of this and now she had more humiliation to deal with.

  “Mom looks so desperate,” Brooke said, accepting the tissues and wiping at her eyes. “Like she’ll do anything for five more seconds of fame. Like she’s got no personality besides liking him and promoting him. She sounded like a parrot. And did you see that plastic surgery? I mean I try not to judge people, Dad, you know that. If someone wants plastic surgery I suppose it’s their right, it’s their body. But she looks awful, like she’s doing that thing where she’s trying to look so much younger than she is and—” Brooke hiccupped, wiping at her eyes some more, and then blew her nose. “Theo looks like an idiot. He looks like a complete idiot! I can’t believe I ever looked up to him. I thought he was so cool and now he’s just so full of hot air and he’s… he’s just an idiot!”

  Brooke sat down on the other chair. “How could either of them think this was a good idea? It’s like they’re bringing out the worst in each other. And I don’t just mean the show, I mean, that was an awful idea clearly but how could they have thought that the affair, that any of it, would work out? They’re just - awful!”

  I sighed. “Honey, I wish I had answers for you. I really do. But I gave up long ago on trying to figure out why they did what they did.”

  “Mom was happy,” Brooke sniffed. We had never spoken so openly about what had happened before. I’d asked Brooke if she wanted therapy, and I’d done my best to be there for her, but we’d each dealt with our pain in our own ways and I think we’d each been a bit scared to bring it up to the other like this. “Mom was happy with us, wasn’t she? If she wasn’t, she did a real good job of pretending, right?”

  “I like to think that she was. I believe that she really was, for a while. I think that…” I thought about it for a moment, trying to compress all of my thoughts on the matter into a few short sentences, trying to explain, to put words to all of my swirling ideas. “Your mother was always someone who wanted attention and wanted the high life. She used to love shopping with you all the time, remember? She always had to have the latest thing.

  “I think that your mother saw that Theo wanted to go places that I didn’t. I like having just my one restaurant and being here taking care of that. Theo wants to be famous, to be in the limelight. To be rich. And your mother wants all of those things too. So I think for her she saw that he could give her what I didn’t, and I think she assumed that he could give her the same things that I already gave her, too.”

  “Like what, an emotionally healthy relationship and sanity?” Brooke grumbled.

  I chuckled. “Sure.”

  Brooke put down the box of tissues and threw away her used ones. “Do you think that they’re really happy that way?” she asked. “I can’t imagine that they are.”

  “Well, if they are or they aren’t, that’s not our business anymore. They chose this, and they get to reap the consequences - good or bad. They both want the limelight and so now they’ve got it. What happens now is on them.”

  Brooke nodded. “I don’t understand. I mean, I’m sure some people do want attention, I get it, it’s… it’s attention. It’s addicting. I was pretty popular in high school�
��”

  “Honey I might not know much about high school nowadays, especially high school girls, but even I could tell that you were one of the most popular girls there.” Not because Brooke played games or climbed the social ladder, so to speak. But because she was just a good person, a happy person, and people wanted to be around her.

  Even if the rest of my marriage didn’t work out and went up in goddamn flames, at least Virginia and I managed to raise a damn good daughter. I am grateful for that, despite everything else.

  Brooke gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Thanks Dad. But I had a lot of attention and so I know how good that can feel, but… I don’t want to pursue that as my entire life. Just seeking more and more of it. I’d rather be here, with you, with the restaurant. Even if I’m not a chef.”

  “You don’t have to be.” I got up and walked over, pulling her up into my arms. No matter how old she got or how big she got, she was always going to be my little girl. I might turn around after a few years and see Stevie as an adult, but Stevie wasn’t my kid, despite being the same age as Brooke. Brooke was always going to be that little girl to me.

  Brooke hugged me back tightly. “I’m happy here with you, I just want you to know that. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

  “Of course. And hey, I’m glad you’re here.” I pulled back, grinning at her. “I’d be lost without you.” Then I sobered up. “We’re not out of the woods yet, though. We’ve still got our work cut out for us. We have to make this work for the next few weeks. If we can just keep up this trend, we could finally pull ourselves fully into the green, okay?”

  Brooke nodded. “I know. We can’t relax just yet.” She gave an odd half-laugh, half-sob. “I wish that Stevie was still here.”

  My heart twisted. God, yeah. If only Brooke knew how much I missed her. “I do too.”

  If there was ever a perfect time to tell my daughter… but no, Brooke had just been crying and upset over her mother. I couldn’t turn around and make her cry, upset over her best friend and me. How thoughtless would that be?

  So I just hugged Brooke one more time, and then we set to work. We had to keep this restaurant on its upswing.

  22

  Stevie

  Hoo boy.

  It had been two weeks since… well. Since I’d touched myself thinking about Michael fucking me. Ever since then, I’d kept my thoughts firmly away from him. It had been hard. I wanted to keep thinking about him. I had never come so hard touching myself as I had that time in the bath. I mean, my fantasies all while growing up had been pretty evenly split between Michael and whatever latest male celebrity had caught my eye, but it was so much stronger now that I knew what Michael actually felt like, how he would actually touch me, what he would actually say.

  It was maddening.

  But I was trying to move on with my life. I had to get over him. I wasn’t going to get the luxury of just moping around and weeping forever, and I wasn’t going to drag down the people around me by always being upset. Not least of all because they’d start asking questions and it was going to be bad enough that I had this secret to hide.

  Two weeks, that had felt like an eternity. And now… now I was sitting in a restaurant and waiting for Brooke.

  She had insisted on coming up to Sacramento to see me, visit me and make sure that I was doing okay. I’d tried to put her off but Brooke was a determined person when she wanted to be. She got that from both her parents. I knew that I couldn’t put her off forever, so, I’d said all right. The first time that our days off synced up, she would drive up and buy me lunch. She’d even insisted on paying, which made me feel so much worse.

  I made sure to wear a loose-fitting dress. I’d had to change out my entire wardrobe. I didn’t want anyone knowing I was pregnant until they absolutely had to. I hoped to keep Brooke from finding out a bit longer, so I made sure to get to the restaurant first and request a table towards the back, in the dimmer lighting, and I picked the chair that would hide my body with the table. That, plus the loose-fitting dress, would hopefully keep it a secret for a bit longer. I had to tell my parents in two weeks - I’d made that promise to myself - and Andy as well, but they would keep the secret if I asked them to.

  Brooke entered, looking as chic as ever, and I had to struggle to keep my breathing even and slow. Just act normal, I told myself. There’s no reason for her to think that anything was wrong.

  I waved, and Brooke walked over, smiling. She looked good, and my heart ached with how much I had missed her. I’d missed all of San Francisco, and my brother, and of course Michael. All of it. That included my best friend.

  Brooke walked over, and her smile slipped just a little. Before I could ask what was wrong, she was giving me a big hug. Then she pulled back, looking me over critically, like I was a dress that she wasn’t sure if she should buy or not.

  She frowned. “So, when were you going to tell me that you were pregnant?”

  Ah, shit, fuck, dammit, fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “What?” I tried to make myself sound incredulous, but God knew, I was never a very good liar. I was still surprised that Michael hadn’t ever figured out I’d had a massive crush on him as a teenager. “What are you talking about.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Stevie, I can tell, okay?” Brooke sat down, gesturing at me.

  I sat down as well. “How could you tell? I’m not that far along, am I?”

  “Your face is fuller, and so are your boobs, hon. You think that I wouldn’t know you for so long and not know when your body is going through something? You look different, okay? And you never wear loose-fitting clothing, you say it gets in the way when you’re cooking and that you’re too clumsy for it.”

  …this was true. Dammit. Brooke knew me well, and that was seriously backfiring on me.

  “I can’t believe that you didn’t tell me,” Brooke added. “You’ve known for… how long? It must be a while since… I mean you would’ve known once you missed your period for too long, right? So you didn’t get it when you were here in Sacramento, you wouldn’t be showing this much, and it’s been over a month since you moved, Stevie, why didn’t you tell me?” Brooke sounded genuinely hurt, and I felt like shit all over again. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

  Not if I could help it. I knew, logically, that I would’ve had to tell her at some point but I’d just hoped that I could put that day off for as long as possible. Maybe until the baby was born and I could fudge things about when and how I got pregnant.

  The cat’s out of the bag now, though.

  I supposed that I could go with most of the truth. The emotional truth of it, anyway. Not the whole burdening Michael part, because that might give away the identity of the father, but other aspects.

  “I was embarrassed,” I admitted. “I still am. I feel so stupid. You know I’ve always been… you know I’ve always tried to be smart. And here I was, my first sexual relationship and I wound up pregnant. Sounds like a stupid soap opera, right?”

  “No, no it doesn’t,” Brooke said, switching from hurt to soothing on a dime. That was Brooke all over for you, always ready to be there and comfort you. She took my hand across the table, squeezing it gently. “Sex is messy, relationships are messy, shit happens.”

  I nodded, but that didn’t make me feel all that much better. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Or tell anyone. Not even my parents know. I haven’t told anybody. I’m sure some of my coworkers have guessed but I haven’t confirmed it.”

  “Nobody’s going to shame you,” Brooke replied. “Nobody’s going to be angry.”

  “You don’t know that,” I replied. “And… it would be one thing if I had a steady relationship and it happened, the father and I could work things out but… but the father isn’t in the picture anymore.”

  Brooke inhaled sharply, her eyes going wide. “Does the father know?”

  I shook my head. “Hell no he doesn’t, and he’s not going to, okay? I didn’t fucking tell him and I’m not going to, and you’d better not
either. Our relationship was over before I found out. I mean it wasn’t even a proper fucking relationship, y’know? But whatever it was, it was already over, then I found out, and I wasn’t going to….it’s my choice to keep the baby. I’m choosing that. It’s my body, my choice. I’m not getting him involved with that.”

  Brooke tilted her head to the side. “Well of course it’s your body, your choice. But, surely he could help a little?”

  I shook my head. “No. It’s not what he wanted or what he asked for and so I think this is best.”

  Brooke gave my hand another squeeze, then let go with a small sigh. “It’s Cameron, isn’t it? The father?”

  Once again: hoo boy.

  Brooke had already figured out that I was far enough along the baby couldn’t be the child of someone I’d slept with in Sacramento. In fact she had probably already put two and two together and figured out this was why I’d moved so suddenly.

  What was I supposed to do? I had said that I didn’t want the father to know, so it would be kept safe from Cameron. And he was exactly the kind of guy who would get a girl knocked up. But could I really deface his character like that? Assign to him a mistake that wasn’t his?

  On the other hand—how could I possibly tell Brooke the truth? Hey, I’m pregnant with your father’s child! You’re gonna be a big sister!

  Brooke had always said she’d wished she had a younger sibling but surely she didn’t want it like this. I couldn’t do that to her. Spring it on her like that. And without her dad around to add his side of the story…

  No, there was no way that I could tell her the truth. I just didn’t have the heart to hurt her like that. And what would be the point in telling the truth? I wasn’t going to burden Michael with this, and Brooke would just run back and tell him immediately, and my whole reason for running to Sacramento would be for naught. But if I didn’t tell her, and she kept it a secret, and just stayed away…

  It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it was something. It was better than nothing, anyway, better than letting the cat out of the bag right that moment.