Daddy's Virgin

by Claire Adams

  Barbie swooped in, taking delight in patting Seth's muscular arm. "Sorry to interrupt, honey. I have to cancel dinner tonight, Tasha. I'm so glad you have other plans. I feel just terrible."

  "Great. Then it's a date?" Seth asked.

  Seth held his hand out to me, but Rainer stepped in and shook it. "Rainer Maxwell, Tasha's co-pilot on this project. And you are?"

  Barbie threw me a horrified look, but the two men nodded and shook hands.

  "You can call me Seth, Mr. Rainer. I'm the landscaper Ms. Nichols asked to consult on your project. By the way, I think this is so inspired." Seth turned back to me with another warm smile.

  Rainer cleared his throat. "So, where would you like to start? Should I show you over to the garden plot or do you think you can find it from here?"

  Seth sized Rainer up and then glanced across the parking lot to the plot we had cleared. "I think I can find my way."

  "I'll go with you," I said. Ignoring Barbie's not-so-subtle cheerleading moves, I moved to stand next to Seth. "My co-workers are all buying up new properties, and I'm thinking of joining the trend. Maybe you can give me some suggestions for fixing up my lot before I try to sell?"

  It was a good thing Seth saw neither my sister's face nor Rainer's scowl. We fell in step across the parking lot, but it was hard to concentrate on what the attractive landscaper was saying. Rainer was following close behind, and my sister could not help but trail along out of curiosity.

  Seth noticed too, but it didn't seem to bother him. A light breeze ruffled his hair, and his brown eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'm not going to lie; I read up on your company. Congratulations on your recent windfall. Still, I hope you stick around the East Bay for a while longer."

  "Me too," Barbie puffed. "Can you imagine our Tasha here in some big empty house? All white marble and modern lighting?"

  Rainer caught his shoe on the curb. "What's wrong with that?"

  "It's wrong for my sister," Barbie said.

  I glared at my sister behind Seth's back. "Rainer's right. I've got to keep up with the execs."

  Seth ignored the uneven terrain of the conversation, "Well, I'd be happy to swing by your place and give you a few suggestions. Still, you might find it's nice to have an oasis away from work."

  "She could buy an oasis," Rainer muttered.

  "Would that make all of you more comfortable?" I asked Rainer. "Would you and Berger and the other boys be happier if I spent my money in the same ridiculous ways as you?"

  "I see a good vantage point from over there," Seth said. He skirted away from us and into the garden plot. Barbie followed him but kept an uncomfortably keen eye on me.

  "So, I bought a new house in a better neighborhood," Rainer said. "Is that really ridiculous?"

  I crossed my arms. "No, and I'm sure you and your girlfriend are going to have a great time redecorating it. That doesn't mean I have to go making the same split-second decisions about everything."

  Rainer moved in front of me and tipped my chin up with one finger. "Ellison is not my girlfriend. She's just ex who stopped by. I'm not dating any one woman exclusively."

  "Just eight or nine?" I bit my lip to keep more from coming out.

  Rainer ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know what you've seen at work, but I'm telling you the truth: it's all a show. Sure, I like flirting and dating and being seen with beautiful women, and it doesn't hurt the company's publicity, but that doesn't mean I'm a total jerk."

  "You just play one in real life?" I scrubbed a hand over my mouth.

  "Hey, Seth, why don't I show you our layout on the application?" Rainer spun away from me and headed into the garden plot.

  It took longer for usual for my sister to sidle back over to me. She pressed one hand to her rounded belly and blew out a hot breath of air. "How about you suggest a path in this garden? Maybe something nice and even, not too steep."

  "Very funny, Barbie." I turned back to my car then realized the clipboard I hoped needed retrieving was still in my hand.

  "Tasha, you've got to tell me what's going on with you." Barbie caught my hand and gave it a squeeze.

  I ground my teeth but gave in. "Let's just say it's ten times worse than the office holiday party."

  My sister shook her head. "This doesn't seem so one-way to me. Didn't you see that jealous face he pulled when you went to walk with Seth?"

  I snapped my pen loose from the clipboard and pretended I had something to write down. "He's just territorial. Like an ape."

  Barbie smiled. "Finding it hard to say nice things about him? Sure sign you're feeling something for Rainer."

  I couldn't let my sister see she might be right, but there was nowhere for me to go. Except over to where Rainer sat sizing up the landscaper. Rainer was waving his phone around and showing off the GroGreen application with great enthusiasm. Seth was studying the garden, a Zen-like smile on his tanned face.

  "You know, I've been thinking," Barbie said as she heaved herself up the small hill to stand next to me.

  "Oh, yes, Barbie suggested a garden path. Something nice and even," I said.

  Both men smiled and nodded, but all I saw was Rainer's fierce eyebrows. Even as he smiled, they were drawing tighter together. Our conversation was clearly not over, but I had no idea why he was so set on convincing me Ellison wasn't his girlfriend. Why would that matter to me?

  "No, actually, I was thinking you should try that great little hotel in Tasha's town. You know, when you go on your date. Do a pregnant mama a favor and try one of those Cuban sidecar cocktails," Barbie said.

  So, that's what jealous looks like, I thought as Rainer's frown deepened. He suddenly noticed a text message and got out of the garden plot as if the hillside was on fire. The only problem was, I watched him go before remembering Seth was still there and smiling at me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rainer

  Skipping the line never gets old. I got out of my new car at the valet stand and was directed straight up the stairs. A whole herd of people pushed against the velvet ropes, and I saw a few flashbulbs fire off. I was at the front door of the best new restaurant in San Francisco, and it was opening night.

  My smile was camera ready, and I shook hands with half a dozen people in the foyer. Champagne appeared beside me in seconds, and I was assured my table would be ready momentarily. The whole restaurant was a hum of anxious staff and excited patrons, the newly rich and the eager to be seen.

  All I could think about was Tasha.

  I downed my champagne and balanced the empty flute on a passing tray. Then I pulled out my phone and sent Tasha a message, just seeing if she got her invitation to the restaurant opening.

  "Expecting someone?" Berger asked. He sidled up next to me in the crowd and tipped back a fresh glass of champagne.

  "Just checking to see who else from the office is taking advantage of our invites," I said.

  Berger smirked. "Sure. I'm betting on everyone but Ms. Nichols. How about you?"

  "She might surprise you," I said.

  "No, man, you're the only one who's surprising me. We have to talk more about this whole digging in the dirt thing you have going on with Tasha." Berger was serious and seemed to have me cornered.

  I didn't want to do it, but I waved across the room. Anyone was better than Berger and his office gossip. "I see my brother. Better go say hello. You know how it is." I slapped Berger on the shoulder and slipped through the tight crowd to my brother's small table.

  Evan gave me a sour smile as yet another excited customer jostled past. He clapped a hand over his teetering wine glass. "Trying to jump in at the last minute? Not so sure your charm can get you a table tonight. We had to make reservations months ago."

  I gave my sister-in-law a peck on the cheek and noticed her pursed lips. Here they were at the trendiest restaurant, but it wasn't enough. She wanted a better table and clearly blamed my brother. "Father mentioned you were having quite an upswing lately," she said to annoy her husband.

  M
y brother scowled. "Yes, we're all curious how long you'll manage to keep this up."

  I caught another flute of champagne off a passing tray. The server paused to let me know my table was ready. Near the front windows, in a spacious spread of large, round tables, a white-gloved waiter beckoned me. "Gotta run; I'm famished. Good to see you. Say hello to Father."

  I could feel Evan's eyes boring a hole in my back as I walked away. My sister-in-law was already complaining about my prime table position when her whining was cut off.

  "There you are, darling." Ellison appeared out of nowhere and gave me a graceful kiss on the cheek. The normal wave of attention that followed her broke on a soft sigh. I could already hear all the tabloid speculation buzzing out over social media. "I know you've got a wonderful table, but how about you join me at mine?"

  "And where's that?" I asked, suspicious.

  Ellison just laughed and looped an arm through mine. "The chef's table, silly."

  Within minutes, we had met the cream of the kitchen staff and greeted the genius chef himself. I was starving but posed for a series of photographs with half a dozen people I didn't know, and always with Ellison hanging on my arm. Then the chef showed us our seats, more of a raised dais on the edge of the open kitchen, with the entire jealous restaurant behind us. I was glad when the food began to appear and I didn't have to think about all the speculative eyes looking in our direction.

  The chef was weaving a story with tantalizing appetizers as details when I finally got a message back from Tasha. She'd sent me a picture of a fresh torta from the taco truck in her little neighborhood. It was balanced precariously on a stack of work folders on her dining room table. I could see the lights of the bay from her window in the background, and felt the distance across the dark water between us.

  I sent back a snapshot of the tiny, frothy dollop that was my next course and told her how jealous I was of her dinner. I would have given up my seat at the chef's table in an instant if I was offered a place on the couch next to her.

  At least I recognize the garnish, I wrote.

  Have a good thyme, Tasha replied.

  I chuckled out loud and reread the exchange a few more times before tucking away my phone. I would have felt guilty if Ellison hadn't been texting directions to her cronies while she raved about the food. It was next to impossible to concentrate on the delicately structured next course. It was a bird's nest of infusions, and I didn't understand which part was edible. All I could think about was a cold beer and the better view from across the bay.

  My phone buzzed again, and I dug it out eagerly.

  "Uh oh," Ellison said, checking her own phone. "Looks like my paparazzi are at it again."

  Berger sent me the photograph that was making the rounds faster than lightning. It was me smiling down at my phone with the suggestion that Ellison Ramsey was sending me love notes. The winning consensus was that we were back in love and on the verge of engagement.

  Letting the junior execs know we should start planning a bachelor party, was Berger's comment.

  Then I realized he'd sent the photograph to our work group. Tasha was on the top of the list, and she was one of the only ones not to comment. How could I casually tell her it was all wrong?

  Ellison seemed to think it was all right, even though she knew full well I hadn't been smiling at a message from her. She smiled and flirted her way through the entire night and seemed very surprised when I told her limo driver to take me home.

  "I'd invite you in, but I barely have furniture," I said.

  "Rainer, don't be silly. You can come stay with me," Ellison said. Her driver held the door open and gestured for me to get back inside.

  I shook my head. "Since when do you turn in so early? Isn't there some gallery that needs attending, or a late night exclusive concert?"

  Ellison pouted. "There is. Are you sure you won't come with me?"

  "Thanks for a wonderful, ah, meal," I said. "Goodnight."

  I commended myself for letting her down easy. There was no way she could have missed those hints. I slept well, thinking that I was free and clear once again no matter what social media said.

  Then I woke up to a screaming saw. Sledgehammers hit the walls of my living room, and I scrambled downstairs in a panic. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?"

  A dapper interior designer introduced himself as Raphael. "Ellison Ramsey sent me over, and I just had to get started right away. Of course we'll discuss color schemes and styles, but first, we need to fix the flow of the first floor."

  "I'm sorry, what?" I asked, tugging on my dress pants.

  "Ms. Ramsey's gift to you - the full interior design treatment. And when I told her there had to be renovations, she told me to send you her way. The darling says you can stay with her until we're finished here. Isn't she just an angel?" Raphael clapped his hands and strode off, giving orders.

  "No, wait. There's been a mistake," I said. "This isn't a gift; she referred you to me. And I'll be living here throughout all the renovations."

  Raphael and the crew were right to look at me like I was insane, but I wasn't about to let Ellison railroad me into being her doll. She had never been good at not getting her way, but this was insane. A few meetings, a social media storm, and Ellison thought I really was going to be her fiancé. I wanted to scream.

  It was a relief to drive away, though it took all the way to the bridge until the ringing in my ears stopped. And it wasn't just the sledgehammers. Raphael had hounded me for color palettes and had repeatedly screeched that I needed a vision board. I was glad to get the San Francisco Bay between me and my new zoo.

  The community garden was just what I needed. Until I saw Tasha.

  "Fun night last night?" she asked. "Should I be expecting some big announcement soon?"

  I flinched. Of course Tasha had seen the photograph of me at the restaurant opening. But, how could she, of all people, think that photograph meant Ellison and I were getting engaged?

  "There's no announcement," I said. "Why do people assume that?"

  Tasha gathered up a flat of parsley plants. "Because everyone likes when the big-time playboy settles down. Gives everyone hope," she said.

  I tugged the flat of plants out of her hands. "I was looking at your message in the photograph, you know."

  Tasha's hands fell to her sides. For one moment, her eyes held mine and then she strode off towards the garden. She knew the smile I had on my face in that photograph, the smile everyone thought meant I was in love, was actually for her. So, naturally, she refused to talk about it.

  "You know what gives me hope?" I asked.

  Tasha dropped down next to the first garden row but glanced up at me. "No. What?" she asked, cautiously.

  "Preschoolers planting herbs," I said. "The chef's food last night was spectacular, but nothing beats that moment when kids realize you can eat things straight from the garden."

  "That reminds me," Tasha muttered, "make sure to update the poisonous plants image index."

  I waited until she'd made a note in her phone. "Aren't you happy?" I asked. "I'm happy."

  Tasha's gaze fluttered to mine again. "Sitting in the dirt at 10 a.m. makes you happy?"

  I laughed but stabbed my trowel into the dirt harder than was necessary. "Yes. Why is that so surprising?"

  "Because you're this flashy, social scene, fashionable billionaire who everyone is keeping tabs on. You just spent last night at the most exclusive restaurant opening. And you seriously want me to believe that this is where you'd rather be?" Tasha pushed her fists into the dirt but kept her eyes on me. "What happened to the insanely rich exec in his penthouse office suite?"

  I planted the first parsley. "I think you got us confused at the end there," I said. "I never said I wanted to be the big boss man. That's you."

  Tasha swiped her hair out of her eyes. "But this is all part of the show, isn't it? Don't get me wrong; the campaign is working, but, come on. Tell me the truth. Aren't you ready to get back to your big-mo
ney life?"

  I felt a surge of jealousy. "Is this all Mr. Salt-of-the-Earth talking? My big-money life? What about you? You could have been at the restaurant opening last night. You should have come."

  "I thought you were jealous of my food truck torta," Tasha said.

  I nodded. "I definitely would have skipped the whole suit song-and-dance if you'd invited me over," I admitted.

  Tasha stood up and brushed the dirt off her knees in an abrupt manner. "I told Stan that I would check in with him this morning. I'll just make the call from my car."

  I was ready to dwell on what she'd said and not said when the preschoolers came out from their classroom. Soon the garden was filled with screeches and laughter, dirt, and the need to save the small plants from trampling feet. The kids loved seeing our virtual garden plan and comparing it with the real thing. I wanted Tasha to enjoy it - the very real application of her program - but she remained in her car.

  Then when she did come out, Tasha found ways to avoid me. It wasn't hard with about fifteen moving obstacles in between us, but she made sure we didn't say another word to each other until lunchtime.

  The preschoolers marched off back to their classroom, and I cornered Tasha near the frame for our runner beans. "Please tell me you plan to order sandwiches from that great little deli again," I said.

  Tasha crossed her arms. "Aren't you headed back to the office yet?"

  "We get lunch breaks, Tasha."

  She sighed. "Fine. You go get cleaned up, and I'll order. What do you want?"

  I couldn't help it. I winked at her. "You know what I like."

  Tasha gave me a pained look but pulled out her phone. The fact that she didn't hesitate before ordering my favorite sandwich gave me hope, and I headed for the community center with a good feeling.

  Tasha fought my good feeling every step of the way. Not that I blamed her. She was right about everyone seeing me as a playboy. It had been a persona that had served me well for years. And, after our little slip-up, it was natural for her to keep her distance. Especially since she thought I was involved with another woman. All I had to do was prove to her that wasn't true. And to find ways to close the distance between us.