Billionaire Single Dad

by Claire Adams

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I'll take care of it.”

  “Good. She really must rest.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “You’re welcome. I'll check in on her later. You can see her in about ten minutes when the nurses are finished checking her vitals.”

  “Of course.”

  He walked off, and I was staggering on my feet. I grabbed a chair, unsure of my ability to stand. Leaning over, I rested my elbows on my knees and shoved my hands roughly through my hair, completely overwhelmed. I was going to be a dad. We were having a daughter!

  “I guess you know the news now, huh?”

  I looked up and saw Meg standing in front of me.

  “I . . . I'm going to be a father,” I managed to utter in disbelief.

  “Yes. Yes, you are,” she confirmed.

  “Why didn't she tell me about this? Or you? You could have told me.”

  She looked suddenly ashamed. “Look, I need to let you in on a few things,” she said, and sat down next me. She proceeded to explain everything about how Lilah had felt, from the very first time she and I had kissed, right up until the present. She told me about Lilah’s fears that I would be like my father—a risk that she hadn’t been willing to take with regard to her child. Our child.

  “I understand why that might have concerned her,” I said, “but I would never do that. I love Lilah. When I say I'm not like my father, I not only mean it, but I can also prove it if she’ll let me.

  “Hell, I even have medical documentation to back it up. My grandfather was a very thorough man. Even though he knew in his heart that I was nothing like my father, he was also a logical man and knew that intuition wasn't always concrete. He needed proof.

  “So, before signing over the company to me in his will, he made me undergo a barrage of psychiatric tests to just confirm that there was no evidence of sociopathy, psychopathy, or violence in my personality. I passed with flying colors. I truly am nothing like my father. Looks are the only thing I share with that monster.”

  Tears rimmed Meg's eyes. “I knew it. Somehow, I just knew it. And, I think she knows it, too. She just needs to hear it. Asher, she loves you. She hasn’t said the words, but I see it in her eyes when she talks about you. That's why I invited you for sushi. I wanted you two to talk—really talk. But you bailed! You didn't even show up. Why?”

  “I did—but she was there with Savage. I just . . . I just assumed.”

  “You know what they say about assumptions, Asher. They're the mother of all fu—”

  “I know,” I said, ashamed. “But why was he there?”

  “It was a total chance encounter. And, he was harassing her like the ass hat that he is. She called a waiter to have him thrown out of the restaurant. If you'd stuck around for longer than ten seconds, you would have seen that. Hell, you could have saved her yourself, instead of letting some waiter do it.”

  “Damn. I’m sorry. I wish I had.”

  “There’s just one other thing,” Meg announced.

  “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Yeah. Well, do you remember on the flight to Hawaii when you told Lilah that you didn’t want children?”

  My head fell back against the wall and I slumped in my chair. “Damn. I did say that. But I didn’t mean it—not like that.”

  “Well, here’s your chance to tell her and patch things up. You’ll have plenty of time for making it up to her . . . as in the rest of your lives, with your beautiful daughter.”

  I smiled. A daughter who was going to be the most loved child in the world!

  “Now,” Meg pushed me out of my seat, “get your ass in there and tell the woman you love how you feel. And don’t take no for an answer this time.”

  Epilogue

  Lilah

  THREE YEARS LATER

  “Honey, do you think she'd prefer the red drums or the blue ones?”

  “She's a fiery character,” I said, “so let's go with red.”

  Asher looked across the room at me with a smile. “Just like her mother,” he winked. “Red it is. I’ll have them delivered tomorrow.”

  “It's amazing that she's shown such an interest in music at such an early age! I mean, she's only two and a half years old, but already she's keeping better time than you are. Where do you think she gets it from?”

  Asher chuckled. “Must come from your side of the family.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I guess it does. My mom was apparently a talented musician, and both of my grandfathers played several instruments, according to my dad.”

  “Well, our little Hope is going to be a drummer, it looks like. And, one of the best drummers in the world, I'll bet.”

  “Yes. I’m sure that’s exactly what she’ll be,” I laughed.

  “There we go, ordered and paid for,” Asher chimed. “Our little girl's first set of drums will be here tomorrow.”

  “You do realize the house is gonna get a lot noisier.”

  “I'll build her a soundproof studio.”

  “Good thinking, build the two-year-old a music studio. That’s not spoiling her,” I gave him a look.

  “What? Eddie can use it, too,” he defended himself.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now, about next month . . .”

  “Our wedding anniversary,” he said with a sly grin as he pushed up next to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “I know, and I've been thinking about it. I'm really leaning more towards the Seychelles for our trip. How do you feel about that?”

  “The Seychelles sounds just perfect, my love. White sand beaches, snorkeling, and boating on a turquoise ocean. That sounds like heaven right now.”

  “I know. I can't wait! I'll go ahead and get everything booked.”

  “How are things at the agency?” I asked him.

  I'd stopped working there the day I'd almost lost Hope—the day we finally dropped our walls and started our life together. But that didn't mean I'd lost my ambition or my drive. We just realized that it would be better for us if we weren't working together. So, after I'd given birth, I'd started my own consulting company, taking my experience and talent to the highest bidders—unless that bidder was Brendan Savage—and doing it from the comfort of home.

  Despite the money, the success, the house, and the cars, the most valuable things in my life weren't those that money could buy. They were my adoring husband Asher and my beautiful daughter Hope, the light of both our lives. I didn't know what I'd do without either of them. Hope was napping on the sofa, looking too cute for words. I had to take a picture of her to send Eddie, so I stretched and stood in the Sunday morning sunlight beaming through the wall of windows as I took out my phone and got the camera ready.

  “She looks absolutely adorable, doesn't she?” Asher said as he gazed lovingly at our daughter.

  “She has your eyes,” I said.

  “And your smile,” he replied.

  I crept up to her as she slept, doing my best to keep quiet and not rouse her from her slumber. She stirred, and I froze momentarily, but then she smiled in her sleep and burbled softly. I aimed the camera at her cherub-like face and snapped a shot. The lighting was just perfect. I uploaded the picture to Facebook, with a suitable amount of hearts and smiley faces.

  The first “like” came from Asher, of course. I looked up at him with a grin.

  “Mr. Sinclair, are you stalking me on Facebook?” I whispered.

  “Why, I'd never do such a thing Mrs. Sinclair. You’re a married woman,” he said in a tone of mock shock.

  We both laughed, and I eased over to him and jumped into his arms. He caught me with a laugh, swung me around in a circle and then planted a deep, sensuous kiss on my lips, which got my heart racing and my cheeks flushed with heat. Even after marriage and a child, he was still able to turn me on with a mere glance, or a touch.

  Still in his arms, I disengaged from the kiss as the phone in my hand buzzed. It was a notification from Facebook.

  “Eddie likes the photo,” I said. “A
nd he just sent a message saying hi to both of us.”

  “Say hi back. He and I need to have a beer when his band gets back from touring.”

  “I'll tell him.”

  “Oh, and Meg wants to come over early before dinner. Shall I tell her we're free now?”

  He kissed me before answering, and again electricity rippled across my skin.

  “Not just yet,” he said. “You and I have some unfinished business to attend to.”

  “Oh we do?” I asked with a cheeky grin.

  “Yeah. In the bedroom. Around . . . now, I think.”

  “I'll tell her to come over in an hour then.”

  He kissed me passionately, and we were both panting when he disengaged.

  “Make it two hours,” he whispered. “Make it two . . .”

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  EXECUTIVE

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams

  Chapter One

  Noah

  “Today is a very special day for Stone Medical Supplies,” I said into the microphone. “Four years ago today, I started this company with a dozen employees. And now look at us.” I raised my hands out to the hundred and fifty employees standing before me. An explosion of clapping and cheering filled the room. During lunch, a hired crew transformed the lobby of my building into a wide-open space with two bars, several food stations, and a DJ booth. I still felt the warmth inside of me from when I saw the faces of my employees when they saw what I had planned for them this afternoon. They deserved this party. And the cost wasn’t a deterrent. I’d made enough pounding the pavement over the years to be able to open my own business, providing for myself, my family, and everyone in front of me. I made eye contact with as many of them as I could, hoping that I could convey my appreciation for each and every one of them.

  “After leaving Big Pharma five years ago,” I continued, “this company was a risk. But delivering quality medical supplies face-to-face to our customers in St. Paul was a dream I’ve always envisioned for us. And while you might not see the significance of four years versus a bigger milestone, I wanted to be the one to tell all of you that we’ve tripled our figures in the last quarter, the highest this company has ever seen!”

  People whooped and hollered.

  Pride swelled within me, and I waited for them to calm down before I went on. It took them a minute. Friday Fever had kicked in, plus the open bar and food had given my employees more enthusiasm.

  “I don’t want to keep you too much longer, but in all sincerity, this company wouldn’t have thrived without every single person standing in front of me. I know the future of this company is in good hands with all of you and I hope this party shows my appreciation. Enjoy!”

  I placed the microphone on the stand and walked into the crowd as they cheered. I clapped for them as well. Then it was like a horserace for the food and drinks. Most of them took off for the bars, which was why I chose to have two of them.

  I cued the DJ to start the music, and he started up with a pop song I recalled hearing on the radio recently, though I couldn’t remember the boy band. A few of the women jumped up and down hearing the song, and I grinned at seeing them outside of their serious expressions when behind their desks. I liked seeing my hard workers cut loose.

  “Thank you so much for all this, Mr. Stone,” Emily Getreur said, coming up alongside me. She was the head of accounting and really needed some downtime. With the increase in figures, she’d stayed late with me and a few others to get our numbers in on time for the quarterly reports.

  “You’re welcome, Emily. How are your daughters?” I asked.

  Emily’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. She loved to talk about her twin daughters and their various school activities.

  “Oh, they can’t wait to graduate later this year,” she said.

  “Be sure to have them complete the essay for the Stone scholarship,” I said, further promoting the four-year tuition-free scholarship dedicated to employees’ children. My pay packages were competitive, but I knew what it was like to have debt.

  “Oh, they will!” she said.

  “Enjoy yourself.” I moved through the crowd, and several employees thanked me for the party. And as much as I wanted to mingle with them, I had Gina coming by soon. And as much as I was close to my employees, I knew they would be able to enjoy themselves a little more without the boss nearby.

  Speaking of the adorable devil, Gina bounded into the lobby, shooting through the crowd as if fired from a cannon.

  “Daddy!” she cried, running right past me toward the stairs to the second floor.

  Gina’s nanny, Layla Porter, looked like a drowned rat as she shuffled through the crowd calling for Gina. She tugged at the tips of her short graying hair as she scanned the crowd. I glanced out the window. I didn’t realize it had been pouring outside. With Gina’s excitement, it looked like she’d forgotten her coat and Layla had forgotten an umbrella.

  “I got her!” I called to Layla over the music.

  Layla’s head snapped in my direction and recognition flooded her face. She waved at me and stopped walking to catch her breath.

  I tried not to cringe at her. She looked exhausted. A sinking feeling weighed in my stomach. I pushed it aside and bolted after Gina before she took her first step onto the stairs at the far end of the lobby.

  “Honey,” I said, and she turned around.

  Her big brown eyes widened, and her crooked grin spread ear to ear. “Daddy!” she exclaimed and attached herself to my leg. “I missed you. Is this party for me?”

  “No, honey,” I said with a smile. “Let’s go upstairs, and you can tell me about your day,” I said, lifting her up and holding her against my hip.

  She rubbed her tiny hands over my chin. “Scruffy, Daddy.”

  I smiled. “You don’t like it?”

  “Umm, I guess.”

  I dug my face into her neck and growled. Her cries of laughter rattled my ear drum, even over the thumping bass music from the DJ booth.

  Once we reached the top of the stairs, she took off into my office at the end of the hallway. She had her own corner with a desk and art supplies which she called “work.” Sometimes I wished my job involved crayons and colored paper.

  I glanced down the stairs and saw Layla slowly ascending. She looked more weathered lately, and this was the perfect opportunity to speak with her about how she was getting along with Gina. She’d called me earlier in the day and asked if she could talk with me. Since I wasn’t going to leave the building before the party, I asked her to come in with Gina. I wondered if that had been a bad idea. Lately, she and Gina remained at home for most of the day. Gina had plenty of toys and a massive swing set outside, but she required a lot of activity to tire her out. Layla wasn’t a spring chicken, and bringing Gina to the park or anywhere else was a handful.

  I had a bad feeling about this conversation, but I wasn’t one to shy away from it, especially when it was about my family. If Layla wasn’t the best for Gina, so be it. But a part of me wanted to be wrong about this, even though my intuition was rarely wrong.

  “Mr. Stone,” Layla said.

  “Layla,” I said, waiting for the floor to drop from under me.

  “I think you know what I’m going to say,” she said. “Your daughter is a beautiful child.”

  “But energetic?” I offered.

  “Very,” Layla said when she reached the top of the stairs. She leaned heavily on the railing. “It’s not her fault. I remember my own children at her age. But I’m not a woman in my twenties
anymore. I have grandchildren of my own. Ones who I can give back to my children when I’ve had enough. I’m getting too old for this.”

  “I understand,” I said, putting on an impassive expression while inside I wanted to scream. It had been hard enough to get Layla on board after meeting Gina. I’d had to convince her that Gina was only excited because Layla was new in her life. It didn’t take long for Layla to get to know the real Gina as my little ball of never ending energy.

  “I can stay on until you find a replacement—” Layla said.

  “That’s not necessary,” I interrupted. Layla had held her tongue long enough about the subject. Whether out of politeness or the fact that she knew the end of the quarter was my busiest time. “I’ll have her over the weekend, and I’m sure we’ll have several applicants by Monday.”

  “I’m sure you will,” she said. “I’d like to say goodbye,” she said.

  “Of course,” I said, leading her down the hallway to my office. All the while, I couldn’t help but bite my lip about the whole situation. Come Monday, what the hell was I going to do with Gina?

  An hour later, Layla left with her final paycheck. She and Gina had colored for a little while, and Layla brought up the topic of her leaving. Layla was such a patient and kind woman, which was why I’d hired her in the first place. When she opened the door to leave, the sound of the music from the first floor flooded into my office.

  Today was supposed to be smooth sailing with the party. And now I had Gina and no nanny. I could care for Gina, I was her father after all, but with the company doing so well, I needed someone to keep Gina busy at least until she was old enough to go to school. I considered sending her to preschool early, but I wanted to hold off until she was at least four. I had the means to have a nanny, and I wanted to preserve her childhood as much as I could.

  “Daddy, sit,” Gina said and patted the child-sized chair next to her. I shoved away all thoughts of my nanny woes for now and focused on my daughter.

  I kissed the top of her head and sat in the chair, leaning forward, so I didn’t put my full weight on the legs. I didn’t know the effect of Layla leaving would have on Gina so that coupled with the possibility of breaking her chair might be the deciding factor in a total meltdown.