Hot Single Daddy: A Second Chance, First Time Romance

by Juliana Conners

  “Very well,” the receptionist continues. “He’s left you this job acceptance paperwork to fill out, including your contact information and your terms of pay.”

  I nod, looking down at the paper to the right of the monitor.

  “He also says you are to work at your leisure and during whatever time you have available,” the receptionist continues. “Your first task is to go through the emails the customers sent this week. We recently sent out a survey and these customers are responding to that. If the feedback is good, you should write back to the customer and thank them for weighing in. Encourage them to reach out at any time for anything they need.”

  I look at him, surprised that a company would care so much about its customers.

  He must mistake my awe for confusion, because he says, “Don’t worry, there’s a template saved in a draft email folder that you can use. But feel free to make it your own. Change up the wording or add whatever niceties you’d like. Mr. Covington clearly trusts your abilities.”

  I nod and he opens the email program.

  “Now, if there is any negative feedback at all, you are to respond by thanking them and also letting them you’re forwarding their email to Mr. Covington himself. And then you can go ahead and do that. When you start typing ‘Wade Covington,’ his name will come up in the auto predictor and fill the rest of his email address out so you can easily send it to him. He’ll look at it and respond accordingly.”

  I nod again, pleasantly surprised that Wade goes to such lengths to make his customers happy. And I’m also impressed at how large and streamlined his operation is. He has done a great job of setting up his company, and I realize I have a lot to learn from him, for my foundation.

  The receptionist says, “I’ll let you get started,” but then he turns around to face me again before leaving.

  “Would you like to put in a lunch order?” he asks me.

  I look at him, surprised to be asked that question.

  “What are the options?” I ask him, feeling stupid.

  “You can order from anywhere. The company pays for it.”

  I blink, and he must realize I’m at a loss for what to order.

  “I’m ordering from Neil’s Deli myself today,” he suggests, helpfully. “They have a killer Albuquerque Turkey sandwich. With pepper jack cheese, avocado and green chile.”

  “That sounds great,” I tell him.

  “All right then, I’ll add your order to mine. Please let me know if there’s anything at all that you need,” he says. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

  My heart races, and I’m wondering if that means I won’t get to see Wade. I feel pathetic for wanting to see him so badly, so I try to concentrate on my work.

  I click on the first email, bracing myself for complaints about the company or its product that I won’t know how to answer. I know I was instructed to just forward the email to Wade and let the customer know, but I will probably feel guilty if I can’t somehow make everything better.

  Instead, the email that greets me is surprisingly enthusiastic.

  Dear Covington Enterprises,

  I would like to thank you for your Anxiety No More… for Kids app. It has helped my son Chad immensely. He went from having ADHD and other problems at school to reacting a lot better to stressful situations and adjusting to change a lot more easily. In response to your survey, the app is everything I could hope for and more, and I have no suggestions for changes.

  Sincerely,

  Marge Whitton,

  A very happy customer.

  A smile crosses my face as I click on the “Reply” button to write my response to Marge. How lovely that an app created by Wade’s company helped this family. I use the standard response, but add a personal note.

  We here at Covington Enterprises strive to bring all the best from our family to yours.

  It’s an odd personal note, and I’m not sure why I wrote it, considering that there is no “Covington family.” I guess I just feel like part of a “work family” already and I’m pleased to do this fulfilling work as my job. It’s a very different feeling that I had while I worked at my thankless job as a banquet server.

  As I open the next emails, one by one, they all say similar things.

  You helped me when I got back from war and had PTSD. The tools and tips saved my life.

  My mother suffers from terrible anxiety but listening to your app’s hypnotherapy tracts calms and soothes her so that she is able to sleep.

  My husband was an alcoholic but your Stop Drinking Now app has worked more wonders for him than all the group therapy meetings he has tried, combined. He now feels positive and energetic about taking his life back and staying off the booze.

  Their heartfelt stories make me reconsider everything bad I had thought about Wade and his company and even people with money. Apparently, he’s made his money honestly, and by helping people. And he might have been a dick to me years ago, but something has certainly changed.

  At some point the receptionist comes to check in on me as promised by I’m preoccupied by all the thankful survey responses.

  He sets a turkey sandwich down beside me and says, “You know, you can take a lunch break.”

  “Okay,” I tell him. Then, reminding myself to return to the land of the living, I add, “Thank you,” but he’s already leaving.

  There are only two responses that can be construed slightly negatively. One says that they couldn’t get the app to download onto their phone. The other one has suggestions for new or improved apps, for things such as fibromyalgia, pain management and autoimmune diseases. Interesting. I write back to the customers as the receptionist instructed me and then I hit the forward button that will send the emails to Wade.

  First, I have a few bites of the turkey sandwich. It’s delicious, just as the receptionist promised. I fill out the job paperwork as requested. And then I return to the task at hand.

  I feel nervous as I type, wondering if Wade will scrutinize my every word.

  I’ve finished going through the customer survey response emails, I write. This and the email that follows are the only ones with any kind of negative feedback. I’ve let the customers know that I’ve forwarded their comments to you.

  I hit send and then I forward the next email without comment. My heart flutters again, just like it’s been doing all day, but this time, even faster. Part of me wonders what to do now that I’ve finished this assignment. I suppose I should go see the receptionist and ask what’s next. Another part of me wonders if— and when— I’ll hear back from Wade.

  I don’t have to wait long. There’s a near instant response. My palms sweat as I hover over his email with the mouse, and then click on it.

  Very good, his email says. Thank you. Would you please come to my office now?

  This time, I let my mouth hang open since no one is around to see it.

  A personal summons to Wade’s office is the thing I want right now more than anything else. I need to apologize to him for dismissing him based on stereotypes I’d built in my head. And I have a feeling there are things he needs to do when it comes to me, as well.

  Chapter 9 – Wade

  There she is. Emily Mason. The only girl I have ever loved.

  Loved.

  For some reason— it must have been my talk with Jensen— I’m able to admit to myself now. I loved her. And I blew it. But I’m hoping she’ll forgive me. There must be some chance, if she’s here in my office, looking nervous and shy, but also almost giddy with happiness.

  “I’m so glad you decided to work here,” I tell her, as soon as she walks in.

  “I’m very grateful for the opportunity.”

  She nods at me demurely, and I can’t help it. I want to rip her clothes off, claim her as my own like I was never able to do before.

  I get out of my chair and walk over to her. Before either of us know what we’re doing, we’re hugging.

  “Wade,” she says, burying her head in my chest. It’s been
far too long since it was last there. “I need to apologize. I had no idea your company had impacted so many lives. I really want to know all about it.”

  “No, I need to apologize,” I tell her. “And there are a lot of things I want to tell you. But first…”

  I bend down and kiss her, and her tongue meets mine eagerly.

  I forgot how good it felt to wrap my tongue around hers, to explore her sweet mouth. I grab a hold of her ass and pull her closer to me, pressing her body up against mine, where my package is now bulging underneath my pants.

  “Oh, my God, Wade,” she says, nearly breathless. “This feels amazing.”

  “It sure does.”

  I lift up her skirt and slip my finger under her panties. She’s dripping wet with desire for me. I knew she had to have been wanting me just as much as I’ve been wanting her. But feeling it for myself turns me on even more.

  I move her towards my office door and lock it. Then I move her in the other direction, towards a couch that I have in my office. There are so many things I want to do with her. But first, I want to make her feel better than she’s ever felt in her life— even better than she’s felt with me in the past.

  I sit her down on the couch and kneel in front of her. I slide her panties over to the side and spread her legs wide. I can see her perfect pussy on display for me. As I begin touching her clit, she gasps, her wetness dripping out all over my fingers.

  I spread her pussy wide while I look at and touch every fold and crease. I remember it so well but it seems even more beautiful now than it used to.

  I rub it while she moans, and then softly, under her breath, she says, “Wade, I’m going to come.”

  It’s that same tone she used to use with me back in high school.

  I rub more vigorously while telling her, “I’ve missed your little pussy so much. Come for me, Emily.”

  Then she says, “Oh, my God, Wade, this feels so good,” and her juices are gushing out all over my hand.

  I kiss her while she finishes coming and she says, “I’ve been thinking about this ever since the last time we were together.”

  “Me too,” I tell her. “All the time.”

  I place her finger on her pussy.

  “Show me what you do while you think of me,” I instruct her.

  Obediently, she pushes a finger inside herself and rubs her clit at the same time. I love to watch her pussy twinge and pulse as she pleasures herself.

  “Tell me what you’ve been wanting me to do all this time,” I say.

  “I’ve been wanting you to fuck me,” she says. “I want your big cock in my pussy.”

  “I never got to fuck you,” I tell her, as I watch her play with herself.

  I’m almost afraid to ask the next question, but I do anyway.

  “Has anyone else gotten to fuck you?”

  “No.”

  She shakes her head, moaning slightly, close to coming again, and my cock rises even more to attention.

  “You’re still a virgin?” I ask, as she slows down and looks at me earnestly.

  “Yes.”

  I don’t want her to ask me the same question, so I quickly change the subject.

  “Keep playing with yourself,” I tell her. “Until you come.”

  She nods and rubs herself faster, harder. I see only pure desire and release in her eyes. Then she looks deep into my own and says, “I’m going to come again, Wade.”

  “Come again,” I tell her, kissing her while she plays with herself and gives into the feeling I know is washing over her. “Come like you do when you think of me alone.”

  I look back down to see her juices everywhere as she comes. I take her finger out of her mouth and suck on it, one of my hands returning to her curvy, full ass, and the other on her thigh to push her legs open wider.

  I could take her right here, like this, but I don’t. She deserves something more special for her first time. But I do start pushing at her clit with my tongue, then her up and down until she’s moaning and squirming.

  “Oh, my God, Wade,” she says, pushing her hips forward so that I can move my tongue deep inside her pussy.

  I suck on her clit while she grinds against my face, grabbing my hair and moving my head back and forth.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she says repeatedly, as I lightly gnaw on her clit and then suck on it harder again.

  I can taste her sweet juices that I remember so well. She wraps her legs around my head and collapses on the couch.

  “I feel so amazing,” she says, in a voice low and weak as if she’s barely able to get the words out.

  I smile down at her.

  “Good.”

  And then there’s a knock at the door.

  “I’m busy,” I say, annoyed, as Emily jumps and then hurries to straighten herself up.

  But the knocking persists.

  I am going to fire whichever one of my subordinates is bothering me right now. They know I’m often busy during the day and don’t like to be disturbed when my door is closed.

  She stands up and whispers, “It’s all right.”

  She’s returned to her former professional looking state, a major feat considering that I’d just left her wet and whimpering on my couch.

  But it’s not all right, and I’m about to let whoever is on the other side of the door know that.

  When I open it, however, I look just as shocked as Emily must be.

  It’s my daughter, looking up at me in glee.

  “Daddy? I came to surprise you at work!”

  “Charity. Hi, Darling!”

  My happiness at seeing my daughter is mixed with fear at how Emily will react. There are obviously a lot of things I haven’t gotten to tell her yet. Didn’t know how to tell her.

  My next thought is to wonder where Rebecca— Charity’s mom— is. I’m sure Emily will misinterpret the situation when she sees her here. And who could blame her?

  “Emily, I…” I start to say, but she pushes past me and out the door.

  “I won’t hold you up,” she says, as she heads down the hallway.

  Charity’s mom is out there. But if Emily notices, she doesn’t let on.

  “I can see you have important things to tend to,” Emily says.

  And with that, she’s out of my life again, perhaps for good this time.

  Chapter 10 – Emily

  I’m at home, fuming. I have a couple hours before my class starts but for the first time in my life, I don’t even feel like going. I call my sister Jessica, one of the only people to whom I can admit what a fool I’ve been.

  I hadn’t told her any of it, though, because I was embarrassed to have lost my job, embarrassed to be at the mercy of the guy I swore to her I was done with— even though she’d always tried to convince me otherwise— and certainly embarrassed of the fact that I just slutted it up at my new job with my douchebag ex. I wouldn’t be telling her if my heart wasn’t completely broken all over again. At times like this, I really need my sister, and I just hope she doesn’t judge me.

  I quickly fill her in on the whole story, ignoring her attempts to butt in with a million questions. She always liked Wade and I’m sure she’s happy to hear that he’s back in my life. But just wait until she hears the part about his kid.

  “He has a kid?” she explodes, when I finally get to that part of the story. “Like, the kid id really his?”

  Leave it to Jessica to give Wade the benefit of the doubt.

  “I mean, I guess,” I tell her. “She called him ‘daddy.’”

  “Wow,” Jessica says, speechless for once— which is hard for her to be.

  “I know,” I groan. “I can’t believe I trusted Wade all over again, just to find out he’s hiding something. And we had just friggin’ made out in his office.”

  I had skipped over the sordid details, because part of me can’t believe I let Wade do all of that in a work environment. Not just a work environment, but my first day on a new job, even if it is Wade’s company. Part of me
was completely thrilled though, at the forbidden nature and the fact that we could get caught. Until we almost did. By his daughter of all people.

  “I can’t believe he did all the things to me that he used to do, without first telling me that he had a fucking kid,” I say again, to Jessica. “I guess I should have known what kind of a snake in the grass he is. It’s my fault for ever letting him back into my life.”

  …And into my panties, I think to myself, without saying it out loud.

  “Well, just hold on Emily,” Jessica says. “You’re always so quick to dole out judgment. But there could be circumstances here that you don’t know about.”

  “Like what?” I ask her. “Like a random little girl off the street is calling him ‘Daddy’ and he’s not correcting her but somehow he’s not really her father? Like maybe they started up that show ‘Punked’ again and it’s all a big prank he’s playing on me? Or perhaps I’m on one of those radio shows where they test how much you really love someone—”

  “Oooooh,” Jessica says. “You said the ‘L’ word. You said love. You love Wade. I knew it. I always knew it. You’re still not over him. That’s why you’ve never even had a serious boyfriend since him. That’s why you’ve never even had sex.”

  “Jessica!”

  I’m so mad at her. This really isn’t the time or place to remind me that I’m an old, loveless hag because I’m still hung up on this jerk.

  “I’m sorry, Em,” she says, but she’s giggling. “I just… this thing about his daughter sucks, but I’m hoping there’s some kind of reasonable explanation. Because I really do think this is what you need. Him back in your life. Because you love him. Quite clearly. Or else this wouldn’t bother you so much.”

  “Oh, Jessica,” I sigh, trying not to sound as close to crying as I feel. “I don’t know why you’re so happy about this. This is really, really bad for me.”

  “Geez, Em, don’t cry,” she says, softly. “I’m sorry. I know this is a bummer. But maybe somehow it will all work out.”

  “How could it work out?” I ask her. “That little girl looked at least four years old. That would mean…”