by Lucy Wild
When I needed to shift position, I rolled onto my other side and found myself facing my phone on the bedside table. I thought I’d better text Mr Mitchell, tell him the deal was off. In a weird way I was grateful to him though, without his seedy offer, I’d never have met my new Daddy.
I turned my phone on and waited for it to load. Several social media notifications pinged up at once and I scrolled through them, pausing to read Alison’s latest.
Party!!! - Seven until Late - Let’s Celebrate Exam Season in Style. Tuesday. Be there or be socially excluded for ever like the loser you are.
“Oh God,” I muttered out loud.
“Hmm?” Mason said, throwing an arm over me. “Everything all right?”
“Only my idiot housemate.”
“What’s she done now?”
“She’s throwing a party at ours.”
“That’s not the end of the world is it?”
“She didn’t even ask me. Now I’m going to have to go to it when I should be catching up on revision.”
“Right,” he said, reaching over me and grabbing my phone out of my hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he began to tap on the screen.”
“Little girls do not go to parties when they don’t want to,” he replied. “They stay home with Daddy.”
“What have you done?” I asked, snatching the phone back off him.
“Told her you’ll be out with me that night.”
“What did I ask you?”
“What?”
“What was the one thing I asked you not to do?”
“I don’t know.”
I got out of bed, not looking back at him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, as I crossed over to the wardrobe.
“Getting dressed,” I replied, digging out my own clothes. I stepped into them as he sat up in bed.
“Why are you getting dressed?”
“Because I want you to take me home.”
“What? Why?”
“One thing, Mason. I asked you to do one thing. Don’t touch my fucking phone. You couldn’t remember that one thing.”
“Oh, God, Tilly. I forgot, that’s all. It’s not worth getting that upset about. I’m sorry, okay.”
“Take me home!” I surprised myself by how loud I shouted. He blinked but didn’t say anything. Instead, he got out of bed, looking deflated as he picked his clothes up off the floor and began to dress.
“I’ll wait downstairs,” I told him, leaving him there.
I wanted to calm down but I couldn’t. From the minute he touched my phone, something snapped in me, some old memory that brought out the fight or flight inside me. I had to get away, it was like there was no air all of a sudden. It wasn’t even his fault, not really. I should have told him what had happened but I didn’t. It was too late to do it by the time I stood waiting for him in the hallway. I couldn’t back down, I’d look stupid. I already regretted overreacting but it was too late to fix it. Could I tell him? Should I say sorry, pretend it hadn’t happened?
He was in the hallway a minute later and I knew there was no point apologising. He looked furious for the first time since I’d met him, he looked like if I said anything, he might throw me through a wall. “Come on then,” he snapped at me while opening the front door.
I didn’t say anything during the journey home. I bit my lip to keep quiet but when he let me out by my front door, I couldn’t keep quiet any longer, not when he sounded so furious.
“See you,” he said, leaning out through the open door.
I was about to reply when he raced away, leaving me standing alone on the street.
“Screw him,” Alison said when I told her what happened. I was sat on the sofa with a coffee in my hand and tears running down my cheek. “That’s some abusive partner shit right there. Did he hit you? I bet he did.”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Well that’s how it starts.”
“God, Alison, did I do the right thing?”
“Of course you did. Don’t start doubting yourself now. He was old, he was pervy. And he took your phone. I tried to turn off your alarm once when you fell asleep on the sofa and you leapt on me like something out of the Exorcist.”
“I did apologise.”
“I know. But balls to him, forget him.”
“You told me to get the money out of him. You made me slut myself up for him.”
“I didn’t think he’d do that.”
The thought came back to me, the thing he’d said. That if I was weird, I was his kind of weird. I sighed, fresh tears falling down my cheeks.
“You know what will make you feel better?” Alison asked, grinning broadly.
“What?”
“Pull someone your own age at our super exciting, never to be repeated, once in a lifetime party.”
“You had one of those two weeks ago.”
“What’s your point?”
“Never mind,” I said as my phone beeped. I glanced at it, expecting it to be him but it wasn’t.
“Is that him?” Alison asked.
“It’s Mr Mitchell,” I replied.
“Oh, what does he want?”
“He wants to know what I’ve found out about our mutual friend. Wants me to go to his office tomorrow morning and spill every single bean I’ve got.”
“Fucking hell, Natalie. This is it. You can fuck over pervy McGee and get your money all in one go. Mama gets her diamond tiara after all.”
I sighed, switching my phone off as I did so.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to reply?”
“I’m going to bed.”
I got up and walked slowly upstairs, suddenly feeling more tired than I had in a long time. Sleep eluded me though, even with the curtains closed and my eyes tightly shut. I wanted everything to go away, but it was just waiting for me outside my room. Tomorrow morning I would either have to reveal all the secret things I’d learned and get my money or keep the secret of a man who no doubt hated me for going mental.
“I need him,” I muttered to myself as I hugged a pillow to my chest. I needed him and I missed him and I got the sinking heavy feeling that I’d made the worst mistake of my life by walking away from him. I pictured flying to Gambia, then I pictured being back in his arms.
I could already see how my story was going to end. I’d have to go to Mr Mitchell in the morning, tell him my ex-Daddy was perverted and abusive and give him all the juicy details he needed until he had the heart attack that had been lurking in the wings for years. Then as he died, his last action would be to sign my cheque and I’d finish college, jet off to Gambia with a handsome man I’d meet at the upcoming party, then I’d become the heroine of my own travelogue romance crossover story. What other option was there?
Chapter Nineteen
I sat in the office and stewed. The calendar on the wall might have said it was Monday but in my head, it was still Sunday. Time had stopped at the very moment that I drove off in a furious daze, if such a thing is possible. I felt as if I’d been punched in the stomach but at the same time I couldn’t believe how obtuse she was being.
Could she not see that I was only trying to help her? She had agreed to let me make her decisions, that was part of being her Daddy. It was my job to protect her and part of that job meant keeping her away from things that would make her unhappy. Why was she so hung up about her phone anyway?
I could tell from the tone of her voice how miserable the party would make her. But when I’d tried to take away the guilt of turning her friend down, instead of thanking me, she’d gone absolutely batshit.
I’d never had that during my time at the club. I’d never had anyone there who just suddenly went from hot to cold like that.
I sighed, putting my head on my hands and closing my eyes, ignoring the knock on my office door.
But she wasn’t like the club members. She hadn’t lived this life, she hadn’t even known it existed. Could I really be surprised that she didn
’t understand what it meant to have a Daddy. I needed her though. The question was, did she need me?
“Knock knock,” a voice said and I looked up to see Susie standing in the doorway. “Everything all right, Mr Radcliffe?”
“Is she here yet?”
“Is who here?”
“Natalie, the temp. Has she arrived yet?”
“Didn’t anyone tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“We got the archiving done by the end of last week. We don’t need her anymore.”
“What?”
“I thought you’d be pleased. We had to work bloody hard to get it all done.”
“Get me the number for the agency. Now!” I shouted and she turned and left, looking hurt. Too bad.
The only thing that had brought me into work that morning was knowing that she would be there too. I’d get a chance to speak to her in a formal setting where she wouldn’t be able to walk away from me without causing a scene, something I was sure she’d be too shy to contemplate.
Fuck Susie for working too damn hard, why couldn’t she be more incompetent? When she brought the number back to me, I snatched it from her, dialling with one hand whilst waving her away with the other.
“Ahoy there, Temps Ahoy,” a voice said at the other end. “How can I help, me hearty?”
“I need Natalie Brook,” I replied, trying to keep my temper under control.
“I’m afraid we’ve no one on board of that name.”
“Don’t piss me about. She’s one of your temps.”
“Oh, I see. Name doesn’t ring a bell though, are you sure?”
Through gritted teeth, I replied, “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Right, well hold on. I’ll see if Sally’s free to have a word. Hold onto your anchor.”
“What?”
The line had gone silent, inane muzak infused sea shanties playing a moment later. “Come on!” I snapped down the line, tapping my foot impatiently below the desk. She couldn’t just disappear. That wasn’t how things worked. People didn’t just walk away from me. Not without having a proper discussion, preferably one that ended with them over my knee, apologising for being a brat whilst I turned their ass red.
“Hi there,” the world’s cheeriest voice said. “Can I help?”
“Hello, yes. I’m looking to hire Natalie Brook.”
“I’m afraid she signed herself off our books just this morning.”
“What? Why?”
“She said she wanted to concentrate on her college work. Sorry, who is this I’m speaking to?”
“This is Mason Radcliffe and I want Natalie Brook in my office by the end of today.”
“I’d love to help, really I would, but she’s no longer connected to us.”
“Listen to me. What’s your name?”
“Sally Philbin.”
“Listen, Sally. I don’t care how you do it. Just do it. Get me Natalie Brook. Money is no object. Name a fee and I’ll pay it.”
“I’m not sure I…”
“Ten grand.”
“What?”
“If she is in my office by the end of today, I will pay you ten thousand pounds.” I gave her the address twice, listening as she typed it into her computer.
“Why do you want her that much?” she asked when I was done.
“She’s just really good at filing,” I said, hanging up before she could say anything else.
The next few hours were the longest of my life. I thought I’d been anxious about the upcoming board meeting but that was nothing compared to sitting doing absolutely nothing apart from glancing out through my window every few seconds, thinking every woman walking past might be her.
None of them were and slowly the hours ticked by. It was just after five and I had my head on the desk when my door burst open and there she was, looking furious, closely followed by Susie.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Susie said. “I tried to stop her.”
“That’s all right,” I replied, leaning back on my chair. “Leave us alone.”
She pulled the door closed as Tilly took a single step towards me, her hands on her hips. “How dare you?” she hissed. “How fucking dare you?”
“I’m glad you came,” I replied.
“I had Sally Philbin trying to break down my front door, I had her almost drag me from my house to get me here and why? Because you think money solves everything. You chuck God knows what at her as a bribe to get me here? Am I just a fucking toy to play with?”
You remember I mentioned that conveyor belt to my own destruction? I’d just hit the accelerate button. I was up and out from behind the desk in a second, grabbing hold of her, the Daddy Dom in me taking control, just as I knew the little girl inside her wanted me to. “Little girls shouldn’t swear.”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered as I held her by the shoulders.
“You need to learn to do what your Daddy tells you. Stay there and do not move!” The tone of my voice made her jump. She opened her mouth but then closed it again, her hands frozen in place by her side.
I walked over to the corner of the office and dragged the stool out. “This may look like an ordinary piece of furniture,” I said as I placed it beside the desk. “It cost me an awful lot of money and I’ve never used it before but today is the day.”
Reaching down, I picked up the stool and turned it over. “Do you notice how there’s an hour glass set inside it? You are going to stay sat on this stool until the sand runs out. Is that clear?”
“Please,” she muttered with a shake of her head. “Don’t do this.”
“You’ve brought this on yourself,” I said, walking back across to her and reaching up her skirt. She let out a half shriek but then covered her mouth with her hand. I grabbed her knickers and yanked them down to her ankles, leaving them to fall to the floor as I dragged her over to the stool. “Sit there and do not move, bare bottom on the wood at all times.” I pushed her downwards. “Do anything other than sit there and Daddy will be very cross with you.”
I deliberately didn’t look behind me. I walked out of the office with my heart pounding but feeling more alive than I had since she’d left. I had woken up, it felt good. I was in charge again and it felt better than good, it felt great. I couldn’t stop the treadmill I was on, this was who I was. Either she’d let me be her Daddy and stay there like I hoped, or she’d get up and leave, maybe call the police and have me done for assault.
I paced the corridors for the thirty minutes it took for the hourglass to run through. I knew it would be a struggle for her but it was one for her to make on her own. The wood was unsanded and against her bare ass it would be damned uncomfortable. Not only that but there was the risk of someone going into the office. Had I locked it?
It locked automatically when it closed, I knew it did. I was being paranoid. I had to stop doubting myself. I looked at my watch again. It was gone five. Most of them were milling past me, heading home. If anyone wondered why I was pacing up and down, they knew better than to question it.
With one minute left, I walked back to the office, put my keycard in the slot and pushed it open. My heart soared at the sight. She was still on the stool, facing the back wall, her shoulders slumped down, that was true, but she was still on it.
“You are a good little girl,” I said, walking across to her. “Did anyone come in?”
“No,” she said, her voice quiet, defeated. Perfect.
“You may stand up.”
I watched as she stood, brushed down her skirt, then turned to face me. Her face was wet with tears.
“Are you ready to be my little girl?” I asked, taking a step towards her.
She shook her head. “No.”
“What?” I managed to say, feeling like she’d just punched me. It was the last thing I expected her to say. “Why?”
“You want to be my Daddy? You want to look after me? You want to be the caring, loving hero?”
I nodded.
“No Daddy would do that to
his little girl? No real Daddy would be that cruel. That hurt me.”
“It was supposed to,” I replied.
“I’m leaving,” she said, leaning down to pick up her knickers.
“Wait,” I said before she reached the door. “Why did you come here if you didn’t want to do this? Why sit there for so long?”
She half laughed. “I came here to tell you I’d been to see Mr Mitchell.”
“Let me guess, you told him everything.”
“I told him you were the most mundane and boring man it had ever been my misfortune to meet. I told him there was more dirt on the Pope than there was on you.”
“You did? But why?”
“If you need me to answer that then you’re a fucking idiot, Mason Radcliffe.”
Then she left, the door swinging shut after her. I sank onto the stool, shaken to my core. She still hadn’t explained why she’d stayed. She’d stayed in place on the stool, she’d let me take her panties off for crying out loud. If that didn’t scream little girl, I don’t know what would. She hadn’t gotten off the stool until I told her to. That should have resolved everything in my favour. But then she’d still left me.
It would be no understatement to say I was devastated. I had been so certain she would stay, that we’d maybe end up fucking in the office. Now I knew I was unlikely to ever see her naked again, I’d never hold her, I’d never dry her tears when she was upset. I’d never cook for her, I’d never do any of things I wanted to do.
But she hadn’t betrayed me either. She had the chance to earn the money she wanted to live her dreams and she’d turned it down to protect me. None of this made any sense and it was a long time before I had the strength to stand up and leave the office, my legs like lead weights. My phone rang as I walked towards the lift and I looked at it to see the name, “George,” appear.
That was all I needed. He’d try to persuade me to change my vote again. What did it matter if I sold the company now? What did any of it matter anymore? The only person I really cared about had just told me she never wanted to see me again. I’d have sold the company ten times over if it would get her to change her mind. That was how much she meant to me. Even after all Mitchell had done.
