Daddy's Way

by Stella Moore

  “About last night?”

  “Yeah. He asked me to not drink a lot because he’s freaking out about Angela’s murder.”

  Shannon winced. “I wish you’d said something. We could’ve just had wine or at least gotten the regular margaritas.”

  Olivia jerked a shoulder. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “I’m not going to judge you because your husband loves you enough to worry. And frankly, I thought we were better friends than that.”

  The hurt in her friend’s eyes just gave the guilt she was already feeling a firmer grip on her insides. “Than what?”

  “You think you can’t tell me Daddy told you not to drink? Like I’m going to judge you for it?”

  “I-I honestly don’t know anymore.”

  Shannon’s lips turned down at the edges. “Why not? Liv, you can tell me anything.”

  “I know. It’s just, I’m supposed to be this big bad real estate agent. Sometimes it’s humiliating to talk about having rules and crap like that.”

  “Oh, honey. Trust me, I get it.”

  “You do?”

  The frown morphed into a wry grin. “Yeah. Why do you think I haven’t had a serious relationship since college? Vanilla guys bore me, but the idea of having a daddy again scares the shit out of me.”

  It was Olivia’s turn to frown. “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Dunno. Probably the same reason you haven’t told me all the crazy shit that’s been going on in your head. It’s embarrassing to admit how much I want it.”

  Groaning, Olivia sat on a step and dropped her head into her hands. “I fucked up, Shannon. Really bad. I haven’t seen him this mad in ages.”

  “You guys will work it out. James loves you so much it almost makes me sick.”

  “We’ll work it out with his belt across my ass,” Olivia mumbled.

  “Probably,” Shannon agreed with a snort. “And you’ll feel a hell of a lot better once it’s said and done.”

  The honking of a car horn cut Olivia off before she could respond. Shannon wrapped her arms around Olivia’s shoulders and squeezed. “That’s my ride. Call me.”

  Olivia watched her friend waltz through the front door. As much as she hated to admit it, Shannon was right. She’d feel better once she’d been punished and forgiven. Somehow, she just had to get through the rest of the day without melting down so she could get to that point.

  * * *

  An hour later, Olivia walked into the office with her headache down from torturous to merely nagging. She still hadn’t been able to eat anything, between the hangover and the guilt. Hopefully after she talked to James again, she’d be able to hold down some breakfast.

  “Morning, MaryAnn.”

  MaryAnn looked up from her computer, and for once she didn’t look like a deer caught in the headlights. As soon as she spotted Olivia, her smile turned sympathetic. But there was something in her eyes, something almost gleeful, that told Olivia the sympathy wasn’t all that genuine.

  “Morning, Mrs. Monroe. How are you feeling?” The fake sympathy dripped from the receptionist’s voice.

  Olivia hoped the shock she felt down to her toes didn’t show on her face. “What?” Had James told the whole office why she was late?

  “Mr. Monroe said you’d be late because you weren’t feeling well. Can I get you anything?”

  “No,” Olivia snapped, then forced a smile to soften the waspish tone. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Is James in?”

  “He’s on a conference call at the moment. Would you like me to tag him when he’s done?”

  “No, that’s okay, I’ll catch up with him later.”

  Bummed she’d have to wait even longer to make amends, Olivia walked past his closed door to her office. Needing the solitude, she closed her own door and booted up her laptop.

  God, her head ached. As much as she hated coffee, it might be her only hope. In the meantime, she grabbed another bottle of water from the mini fridge in her office and chugged while her computer started up.

  Her emails, thankfully, were light. But one from James caught her attention immediately.

  Liv,

  Let’s schedule a sit down with the Jacksons so we can figure out a game plan. I’m available this afternoon.

  James

  She scrolled down, and her blood began to boil. How dare they go around her and directly to James! And implying she was the problem? Fingers trembling, she hit reply.

  James,

  These are the assholes I was telling you about who won’t listen to a word I say. You’re welcome to them.

  Olivia

  It was petty, but she felt a smug sense of satisfaction at signing her full name. He’d get the message she wasn’t just pissed at the client. He could have come to her instead of just taking the reins and pandering to their whining. Just because he was put out with her didn’t give him the right to be a dick to her professionally.

  Seconds later, a chat window appeared on her screen, and it was only her sense of righteous indignation that kept her from crawling under the desk at the command.

  My office. Now.

  Head high, she shoved back from the desk and walked down the short hall to his office. She opened his door, but when she spotted the furious look on his face, she nearly slammed it shut again and ran.

  “Close the door,” he snapped.

  “I know you’re upset,” she began, closing the door behind her.

  “Upset? I’m not upset. I’m fucking livid. How could you be so stupid?”

  The words stopped her cold. He’d never, in ten years together, called her stupid. “What?”

  “The email you just sent me. Do you not understand the difference between ‘reply’ and ‘reply all,’ Olivia?”

  The room spun and she had to grip his desk for support. “What?”

  James turned his laptop so she could see the screen. Right there, in black and white, was the email she’d sent him. With the client clearly listed as a recipient.

  “Oh, God. I didn’t mean to.”

  “That means a whole hell of a lot right now. Do you know how much damage control I’m going to have to do? I don’t even know if I can fix this. If you were anyone else, I’d be tempted to fire you on the spot.”

  “I-I’m sorry.” She couldn’t stop the tears from welling up and slipping down her cheeks. “I don’t know how this happened.”

  “It could have something to do with you coming into work with a hangover and an attitude.”

  “I didn’t! I mean, my head hurts some but I don’t have an attitude!”

  “Really?” Disbelief turned his voice to ice. “This email suggests otherwise.”

  “Okay, so I was pissed they went to you and pissed you didn’t talk to me about it before responding. But it’s not like I did this on purpose!”

  “Trust me, if I doubted that at all, you’d be bent over my desk getting your ass whipped, and I wouldn’t give two goddamns who saw. Do you have any showings today?”

  The sudden change of topic made her head spin. “Yes. Why?”

  “Call me when you’ve done your last showing. You’re dismissed.”

  “James, can’t we talk about this?”

  “Not right now, Olivia.”

  She dropped her voice, terrified of being heard despite the closed door, but desperate to reach him. “Daddy. Please.”

  When he closed his eyes, her heart broke at the misery on his face. “I can’t deal with you right now, Olivia. I’m too angry, and I’ve already said things I shouldn’t have. Go.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut again. He wasn’t ready to listen. Just like he hadn’t been willing to talk to her about last night. With a jerky nod, she crossed the room to the door and yanked it open.

  In her office, she sat and studied her computer screen through a sheen of tears. How had she managed to so thoroughly fuck everything up in such a short span of time?

  It wasn’t long before she realized she was
n’t going to get any work done. At least not in the office, with her thoroughly pissed off husband so close. She undocked the laptop and shoved it in her bag. Without a word to anyone, she snuck past James’s office like a naughty teenager and out the front door.

  Luckily, finding Wi-Fi in a city this size wasn’t hard. She ended up nestled into an oversized armchair at Edgar Allan Joe a couple of hours later, nursing some chocolate coffee concoction the barista had suggested. It wasn’t as good as her plain hot chocolate, but it wasn’t horrible like the coffee Daddy liked.

  “Focus, Liv,” she muttered to herself. Thinking of James just made her want to cry all over again.

  Her phone chose that moment to ring, and James’s face popped up on her display. She could ignore it, pretend she was in a showing. But he’d figure it out and then she’d be in even more trouble.

  Bracing herself, she answered the call. “Hi.”

  “Liv? Where are you?”

  Well, she was back to being Liv so maybe he didn’t completely hate her. “I’m... out. Working.”

  There was a long, strained pause. “Liv, I’m sorry I blew up at you. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I sure as hell shouldn’t have called you stupid. I’m so sorry, baby. Forgive me?”

  The apology went a long way toward soothing the ache in her heart. “Of course I do. I’m sorry I screwed up so big. Reset?”

  Back in college, she’d had a tendency to let the slightest hiccup completely derail her. When James has come along, he’d taught her to do what he called a ‘reset.’ It was as simple as taking five to ten minutes to just sit still and do something to clear her mind and settle her nerves. The process never failed to soothe her and help her restart her day with a better attitude.

  “I think we could both use a reset. But don’t think you’re off the hook tonight. These people have been a pain in my ass all morning.”

  Her bottom clenched at the growl in his words. “I really am sorry. For everything. This whole day has been a shit show.”

  “Language, little one. Take a few minutes for yourself, hit the reset button, and call me when you’re done for the day. I love you.”

  “Love you, too. And I will.”

  When the line went quiet, she assumed he’d hung up and nearly did the same before he spoke again. “Liv.”

  “Yes?”

  “You know I’d rather cut off my own arm than ever truly hurt you, right?”

  She smiled, the first genuine smile of her day. “I do.”

  “Okay.” His voice sounded strained. “Be good, Livvy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Putting on her best realtor smile, Olivia joined her clients in the kitchen of the charming townhome they’d been touring for the past half hour. “So, what do you think?”

  “We love it. These floors are stunning and the natural light just gives it such an open feeling,” Maria Alvarez gushed, her gaze traveling the open space as she spoke.

  Robert Alvarez frowned slightly. Olivia imagined he thought he had a great poker face, but there was no mistaking the excitement in his eyes. “It’s a great house. But I’m not sure about the price.”

  Olivia fought hard not to roll her eyes. The home was well within their budget, and reasonably priced for the area. Especially considering the recent upgrades, such as the gorgeous hardwood floors his wife was head over heels for.

  “Well, we can make a lower offer, but keep in mind if we go too low, someone may swoop in and steal it,” she explained, not surprised in the least when Robert’s face fell.

  “What would you suggest?” he asked.

  “All things considered, I wouldn’t go more than five under the asking price. Even that is pushing it, if I’m being honest.”

  “Oh, Bobby.” Maria rolled her eyes and swatted her husband on the arm. “Stop being such a tightwad. It’s perfectly move-in ready, right down to the paint on the walls. And well within our budget as it is.”

  ‘Bobby’ had the grace to look sheepish. “That’s true. Let’s put an offer in.”

  “Excellent!” Resisting the urge to do a victory dance, Olivia held out a hand to shake on the deal. “I’ll draw up the paperwork and have it sent to Allison this evening. I should have an answer for you by morning at the latest.”

  She wished them luck and locked up behind them on her way out the door. Once she’d made it to her car, her heart began to race as she dialed her husband’s number.

  “All done for the day?”

  His voice was lower than usual and the tone sent a thrill down her spine. She’d been on edge, ready to hear that voice all day, and she slipped effortlessly into her headspace. “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Good girl. Go home and go to your room. Change into your PJs and get your hairbrush from the bathroom. When I get home, I expect to find you in the corner, with your bottom bare, holding that hairbrush.”

  The whimper escaped before she could stop it. “Anything else?”

  “You might want to use your time in the corner to think about the consequences of disobeying your daddy, and how differently this day could have gone if you’d followed the rules I gave you last night.”

  Tears blurred her vision. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

  “That’s my good girl. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  The call clicked off, and she took a couple of deep breaths to try to tame her wild emotions. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d fucked up this bad. It was going to be a long night.

  The drive home was mostly a blur. All too soon, she found herself in the driveway of their home. Bracing herself for what was to come, she parked the car, gathered her bags, and headed inside. After dropping her laptop bag off in her office, she trudged up the stairs.

  Her first step was the master suite, where she grabbed her brush from the counter in their bathroom before she headed to her room. There, she put the brush down long enough to strip and pull on a pair of bright red pajamas adorned with jumping frogs. After she’d dressed and put her clothes in the hamper, she picked up the brush and used it to pull her hair into a high ponytail.

  Now she was ready for the corner. At least, she was dressed for the corner. She was never really ready to just stand there for what felt like hours with her bare bottom on display.

  But she was in far too much trouble to even consider disobeying. So she walked to the corner where she then pulled her pants and panties to her knees. And she stood there, nose to the wall, waiting for Daddy to come punish her.

  Sometimes, she couldn’t focus while she waited. Her mind would bounce from their grocery list to work to movies she wanted to see, anything but the reason she was about to get her bottom roasted once again.

  This time was different. The night before played over and over in her mind, starting from the moment Shannon had ordered the stupid drinks that had started it all. A lot of it was fuzzy, but she’d been able to piece some of it together. Between what she could remember, and what Shannon had filled in for her, it was easy to see she’d made a huge mess of things.

  And that wasn’t even counting this morning. Not only had she been a whiny brat from the time she’d opened her eyes, she’d risked the business they’d worked so hard to build. How could he ever forgive her?

  The wood of the brush grew heavier with each passing minute. She imagined it was the weight of her husband’s disappointment, the weight of every mistake she’d made over the past twenty-four hours. Her arm began to ache well before the sound of the front door slamming shut reached her ears.

  The second it did, every nerve she possessed was at attention, waiting for the inevitable moment when her daddy would enter the room and take her over his knee. She heard his footsteps on the wooden planks in the hall, closer and closer until they stopped. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she knew without turning around that he was watching her. She wanted to run to him, to fall at his feet and beg forgiveness, but she knew it wouldn’t be welcome. Not until he called for her.
/>
  The footsteps started again, this time away from the room, down the hall. And a few minutes later, back toward her room. She grew restless while she listened to him moving around the room behind her. Why wouldn’t he just call for her already?

  “Stop fidgeting, Olivia.”

  She nearly lifted her foot to stomp it, but managed to curb the urge before she dug her grave any deeper. It felt like hours before he spoke again.

  “Come here.”

  As slowly as she dared, Olivia turned and shuffled across the room to stand in front of him. James sat in the straight-backed chair from her desk, his back tall and stiff, tapping his fingers on one knee.

  “Tell me about last night.”

  Finally. “We went to this Mexican restaurant and we each had a margarita with dinner and then we came home.”

  “One margarita?”

  Her head bobbed up and down so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. “Uh huh.”

  “What kind of margarita?”

  “Sir?”

  “What kind of margarita, exactly, gets two women so wasted they can barely stand up straight? Was it a special kind of tequila? Or,” he leaned forward, sending her pulse racing, “is my little one leaving out some key details about this margarita?”

  Shit. If he hadn’t asked, she might have been able to dance around it. But she wasn’t about to tell an outright lie. She didn’t make a habit of lying anyway, and she wasn’t stupid enough to start when she was already in so much trouble. “Well. Um. It was a jumbo margarita.”

  “Define ‘jumbo’ for me, Olivia.”

  Shrugging, she nervously began tapping the brush against her leg. “I dunno.”

  “Olivia Jane Monroe, unless you want me to blister your bottom with that brush every day for the next week, you’d better start talking.”

  “It was big, okay?” she blurted out, tears again filling her eyes. “It was at least three, maybe four normal margaritas, just in one gigantic glass.”

  “So, when you received said margarita, did you honestly believe you were obeying my rule to only have one drink?”

  “No, Daddy,” she whispered.

  “But you drank it anyway, even though you knew it was naughty and disobedient.” The disappointment in his voice nearly brought her to her knees.