Once Upon a Daddy: A Romance Anthology

by Kelli Callahan

  Copyright © 2019 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Daddy’s Best Friend

  Best Friend’s Daddy

  Distinguished Daddy

  Interview With A Daddy

  Daddy’s Best Friend

  One

  Chrissy

  “Are you…” The man in front of me looked down at his sign, which had my name written on it with a black marker. “Christina Banks?”

  “Yes.” I nodded and tilted my head slightly. “Are you—Mr. Foster?”

  He doesn’t look like the guy my mother described—but it’s been a while I guess…

  “No. My name is John.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’m just here to pick you up. I’ll take your bags.”

  “Thank you.” I handed him the duffel bag that was hanging on my shoulder and took a step back so that he could pick up my luggage.

  I didn’t have much with me. I certainly didn’t pack eighteen years of my life into a suitcase and a duffel bag. I brought the essentials, and the rest of my things were supposed to arrive in a few days. I still wasn’t bringing everything that I owned from Chicago to Los Angeles, but I hoped I would have enough to make it through my first semester of college at the University of Southern California. It was my father’s alma mater, and I had been planning to spend my college years there since I was a little girl—I just didn’t expect to run into the complications that arose after I got a scholarship for everything except room and board.

  “How far is it to Mr. Foster’s house?” I followed John outside and waited as he loaded my things into the trunk of a black sedan parked by the curb.

  “In this traffic?” He slammed the trunk and put his hands on his hips. “It’ll take us about an hour to get there.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and walked around to the side of the car.

  John opened the back door and closed it once I was seated. The car was really nice. I had never been driven before—by an actual driver. My mother said that Mr. Foster was well off, which was why he was in a position to help, but she didn’t tell me that he was rich enough to have his own driver. I hoped he was as nice as she said because I was still nervous about living with someone I didn’t know. It was a temporary arrangement, and she vouched for him, but he was still a stranger to me. I knew him by name—and vaguely remembered him stopping by when I was younger—but I didn’t really know him.

  “So, have you been working for Mr. Foster very long?” I leaned forward and tried to make conversation once the car pulled onto the highway.

  “A few years.” John nodded. “He’s a good boss.”

  “Cool…” I leaned back in my seat—I really couldn’t think of anything else to ask him.

  Mr. Foster—or Greyson, as my mother called him—was my father’s best friend. I was really excited when I got accepted to USC, but when I realized that my scholarship wasn’t going to cover anything outside of my educational expenses, I thought I was out of luck. My father left us with a little bit of money after he passed, but there was no way that my mother could afford to pay for me to live in California.

  She saw how disappointed I was when I realized that my dream was about to fizzle out and decided to ask Mr. Foster for help. I hoped he would help me get an apartment and cover a couple of months of rent until I could get a job—instead, he offered to let me live with him while I was going to school. I didn’t want to be a charity case, but it was an amazing offer—one that I couldn’t really turn down. I still hoped that I would be able to get my own place after I got a job, but I was overwhelmed by his generosity.

  “I don’t think Mr. Foster is home from work yet, but your bedroom should be ready.” John pulled the car up to a large iron gate and used a remote to open it.

  “That’s…” My eyes nearly bulged out of my head as I stared at the mansion ahead of us. “That’s his house?”

  “He’s got a few.” John chuckled. “But yes—this is where he lives.”

  I couldn’t help being a little jealous when the car came to a stop in front of Mr. Foster’s mansion. It was clear that being a sports agent in Los Angeles was a lot more lucrative than Chicago. My father barely left us with enough to get by—Mr. Foster was living in the lap of luxury. I followed John into the house, and he led me to a bedroom at the top of a large spiral staircase. I had to blink a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. It was certainly better than what I was used too. The room was nearly as big as the house I grew up in, and it appeared that I had my own bathroom—I was used to sharing a half-bath with my sister and fighting over the mirror in the morning was a daily battle.

  “If you need anything, you can hit the red button on your telephone.” John motioned to a phone that was sitting next to the bed.

  “Who does that call?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.

  “Mr. Foster has an assistant named Lauren who takes care of everything. If you need something, she’ll handle it.” He nodded quickly. “If you need to go somewhere, she’ll call me.”

  “Oh wow, okay.” I blinked in surprise.

  John left me alone in my new bedroom, and I decided to start unpacking. The walk-in closet was enormous, and I certainly didn’t have enough stuff to fill it. I could have stacked all of the boxes that were on the way to Los Angeles in the back corner of the closet and still had room to do cartwheels. There was a large dresser that looked more like a wardrobe. All of the socks and underwear I owned would fit in one of the drawers. I probably wouldn’t have needed more than two to hold all of the socks and underwear I had ever owned. The bed was king sized and even bigger than the one in my mother’s bedroom. I wondered if it was a California King. They were supposed to be bigger than regular ones—and I was in California.

  I should take a few pictures and send them to my sister. Lorrie is going to be so freaking jealous.

  I pulled out my phone, snapped a few panoramic shots, and then walked into the bathroom. There was a large whirlpool tub that reminded me of a Jacuzzi, and two shower heads. The sink was a large oval basin that I could have fit in if I curled up in a ball, and the mirror covered the entire wall behind it. There were also lights on the side of the mirror, which—unfortunately, made me realize I had a couple of blackheads that needed to be handled. I didn’t even notice them when I was getting ready that morning. The mirror made the blackheads stand out so much that I dug into my purse and grabbed my makeup so I could add an extra layer to hide them until I had time to properly handle the problem.

  Now what? I guess I could explore the rest of the house…

  I walked downstairs and started looking around. The first room I came to appeared to be a library. There was a large oak desk in the middle of the room and more books than I thought anyone could read in one lifetime. I saw some pictures on the wall and walked over to get a better look. I had to assume the guy that appeared in all of them was Greyson Foster. He was—hot. My sister remembered him a lot better than I did, and she mentioned that he was attractive, but that was an understatement. He was standing next to a celebrity from movies or sports in almost every picture, and he looked like he was the star.

  He knows a lot of famous people…

  In the middle of all the celebrities was a picture of Mr. Foster with my father. Seeing my father’s face was enough to make my eyes tear up. I was only five years old when he passed away. Most of the memories I
had of him were stories that other people had told me. I was so young when he passed that I didn’t have many of my own. My father was a little older than Mr. Foster, but not by much. My father just didn’t take good care of himself—and he had a few vices, although most people didn’t mention those when they talked about how great he was. I missed him, even though I didn’t get a chance to really get to know him.

  “You must be Christina.” A voice startled me, and I turned around to see the man in all of the photographs standing in the doorway of the library.

  Oh my god, is that a—British accent? My mother mentioned that he was a Rugby star in England before he became a sports agent…

  “Hi! Mr. Foster!” I walked over and extended my hand. “Most people call me Chrissy.”

  “Chrissy...” He took my hand and shook it. “Nobody calls me Mr. Foster. Greyson—or hey, you—yeah you will work just fine.”

  Wow, every word he says sound like poetry—and he’s so much hotter in real life…

  “It’s nice to meet you—again. I know I met you when I was younger, but I barely remember it.” I looked up at him and for a second, I got lost in his mesmerizing brown eyes.

  “You’ve definitely changed a little bit since then…” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m guessing you don’t play with Barbie dolls anymore.”

  “No.” I blushed and suppressed a grin. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I promise I won’t stay any longer than I have to—a couple of months at most.”

  Hopefully I can afford my own place by then if I find a job.

  “It’s no trouble at all.” A slight smile formed behind his neatly trimmed beard—it was a darker shade of brown than his eyes with a little bit of gray along his chin. “I have plenty of room and your father was like a brother to me. You can stay as long as you like.”

  If I stare at that amazing smile too long, I might never want to leave…

  “I really appreciate it…” I nodded and forced myself to look away.

  “Are you hungry? I assume you haven’t eaten anything since Chicago?” He turned and started walking down the hallway.

  “Now that you mention it…” I followed behind him.

  Greyson walked into what appeared to be the living room. It had a fireplace and the biggest television I had ever seen. The couch was big enough to seat my extended family and looked like it was more comfortable than the bed I slept in at home. There were several photographs on the wall in the living room as well, but most of them appeared to be pictures of his family. It looked like Greyson had a couple of brothers that were younger but not quite as attractive as him—and a sister that was absolutely stunning. If the picture of his father was any indication, then Greyson was going be even hotter once he had a little more gray in his beard and a few streaks in his hair.

  I’ve never really been attracted to an older man before, but Greyson is so freaking hot that I can’t stop staring…

  “Do you eat normal stuff, or should I ask my chef to start researching how to cook tofu?” He tilted his head inquisitively.

  “I eat pretty much anything.” I shrugged. “Except—like, anchovies on my pizza.”

  “Okay, good.” He chuckled under his breath. “I don’t like those either.”

  Greyson picked up the phone and hit the red button at the bottom. He asked his assistant to have some food delivered and even the word cheeseburger sounded sexy when he said it. I thought he was going to have something delivered, based on the conversation, but instead—a chef showed up and started preparing our meal. I wasn’t sure if he just appeared on command like John or if it was some sort of special service rich people could order. A cheeseburger and fries in my world meant a trip to a fast food restaurant. I would have been happy with that, but Greyson didn’t seem like the fast-food type.

  I doubt he maintains that incredible physique on a diet of cheeseburgers and fries. If he does, then I need to know his secret.

  “Let me give you the grand tour while our food is being prepared.” Greyson walked towards the door and motioned for me to follow him.

  “Sounds good.” I nodded. “I only made it as far as the library—well, and my bedroom—which is awesome, by the way.”

  “Awesome enough for you to consider staying longer than a couple of months?” He looked over his shoulder at me.

  “I just don’t want to impose…” My words trailed off when he opened the door at the end of the hall, and I saw an enormous indoor pool. “Wow!”

  “There’s a pool and a jacuzzi in here.” He waved his hand for me to follow. “A steam room over there…”

  “This is incredible…” I stared in disbelief.

  “The indoor pool is heated. The outdoor pool is not.” He pointed to the window.

  “Two—two swimming pools?” I walked over to the window and blinked in surprise.

  I definitely didn’t want to impose, but it was hard to imagine cramming myself into a small apartment when I had an offer to live with Greyson until I graduated from college. The rest of the house was just as amazing. There was an indoor gym complete with a basketball court, and the downstairs had a movie theater—like an actual movie theater with an IMAX screen and reclining chairs. He even had a small room next to it with a popcorn machine and a soda fountain. I wasn’t sure what he didn’t have. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a freaking grocery store somewhere in his house.

  “Alright, the food should be ready.” He started walking back towards the kitchen area.

  Greyson asked about my family once we sat down to eat—how my mother was doing and whether or not my sister’s boyfriend had finally proposed. It seemed that he kept in contact with my mother regularly, even though she didn’t mention him much. He told me a couple of stories about my father from when they were younger and worked together in Chicago. I had never heard much about that side of my father’s life. It was painful for my mother to talk about him, so I didn’t ask many questions. Most of what I knew about the man who passed away long before his time came from my sister, who was old enough to remember him better than I could.

  “Something we need to discuss…” Greyson leaned back once he was done with his meal. “While you’re staying here, whether it’s for a few months or longer—I have a few rules.”

  Not surprising. I’d have rules too if this was my house.

  “Of course.” I nodded. “This is your house and I’m just a guest.”

  “I don’t like having strangers here when I’m not home.” He tilted his head slightly and smirked. “So, no sneaking boys in while I’m at work.”

  “Oh gosh.” I blushed and chuckled under my breath. “I definitely won’t do that.”

  I didn’t have a boyfriend to sneak into my house when I was in high school, and I doubt that’s going to change just because I’m in a different state.

  “You’re going to be in college, and I remember how that is, but you need to be home at a reasonable hour. If you decide to go out and have a drink or something, I won’t judge you, but please don’t drive. John will pick you up—anytime, wherever you are.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Even if you’re not living here.”

  “I appreciate that. That won’t be an issue though. I don’t drink—and I don’t have a car…” I shrugged slightly.

  “You’re welcome to use any of mine if you want.” He pointed towards the wall. “Except the Maserati. That’s the one I drive.”

  “How many cars do you have?” I looked where he was pointing and saw a rack with at least a dozen sets of keys. “Oh wow!”

  “If you use one of my cars, please stay off your cell phone—no texting and driving.” He tilted his head slightly. “I mean that. Your mother will kill me if something happens to you when I’m supposed to be looking after you.”

  “Yeah, no problem.” I nodded quickly. “Wait—looking after me?”

  “Of course.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not your babysitter, but you’re still a kid…”

&nbs
p; Ouch…

  “I mean…” I looked down at the table for a moment. “I’m eighteen. I think I can manage on my own…”

  “Maybe, but you’re still my responsibility while you are living here.” He slid his chair back and started to stand.

  “Are those all of the rules?” I looked up at him, feeling slightly offended that he thought I was just some kid he had to look after.

  “The basics, yeah.” He nodded. “Just stay out of trouble.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.” I looked away before he could see me roll my eyes.

  “Good to hear. I’d hate to have to ground you or something.” He chuckled and started walking towards the door.

  Great, so this is basically like high school—except I live in a mansion and I get to drive a fancy car if I want…

  Two

  Greyson

  The next day

  “Lauren, what’s all this nonsense? I’ve gotten two calls already this morning about Ricky?” I walked into the lobby of my office and glared at my assistant.

  “Yes sir.” She nodded quickly. “Apparently he partied a little too hard last night and missed practice this morning.”

  “Bloody hell…” I growled under my breath. “Send someone to his house to get his ass in gear.”

  “Yes sir.” Lauren reached for the phone.

  Ricky Bonds was my biggest client and the one who brought in the most money. He was the quarterback for the Los Angeles Bashers, and he was supposed to be on the field practicing with the rest of the football team—not sleeping off a fucking hangover. Luckily, he was too good for the team to let him go, but Coach Thornton’s patience was wearing thin. Ricky wasn’t going to lead the team to their second Super Bowl appearance if he didn’t show up for practice—and he should have been there early considering that he fumbled the ball the last time he touched it, which cost his team the game.