Daddy's Virgin

by Claire Adams

  I laid out a blanket on the grassy hill next to the garden and motioned for Tasha to bring our sandwiches over. She did and then couldn't find a polite reason to not sit and eat with me.

  I smiled at her. "So, the big Hyperion gala is coming up. It's required. You ready to put on a fancy dress and have some fun?"

  Tasha shook her head. "I suppose we all have to bid high on this year's silent auction," she said.

  "I've got a great strategy for that. Stick with me, and I'll show you how to make charity galas a good time," I said.

  "I've been to all the same Hyperion galas as you have," Tasha reminded me.

  I was about to ask her if she'd go as my date, but her comment pushed me back. Tasha was right. She was my equal, and she didn't need my invitation or my company. In fact, I still couldn't imagine why she'd let me hang around so long.

  "Or we could skip it and grab a late night dinner at that taco truck," I said.

  Tasha smiled. She actually smiled, and I felt like jumping up and sprinting to the top of the hill. Then Seth showed up and made himself comfortable on the corner of the blanket closest to Tasha.

  "The garden is looking great," he said. "And I've got the plans for the garden path your sister suggested. I was thinking about your idea of pressing leaves into the wet cement for imprints. I think we should make a signpost key and it can be an identification game the kids play."

  Right to business. No wonder Tasha liked him.

  I got up and crumpled up my sandwich wrapper. "Thanks for lunch, Tasha. Before I go, maybe we can chat a bit more about the gala?" I asked.

  Tasha gave a distressed frown and stood up quickly. "Sure, I'll just walk with you—"

  "Hey, yeah, I forgot I'd see you at the gala too," Seth said. "I'm so glad Tasha invited me. I don't get much of a chance to wear a tuxedo. Should be fun."

  Tasha didn't move, and neither did I. Then she bit her lip and asked, "How about Ellison? We'll see her there too?"

  I should have stuck to flying solo, but as soon as I knew Tasha was taking the landscaper, I had to bring someone. Ellison, of course, was delighted.

  The night of the gala, when Ellison walked in on my arm, no one doubted that I was happy. How could I not be over the moon with a stunning force of grace and fashion on my arm? Ellison navigated the charity gala with ease, and everyone looked at me with a new respect. Even Berger and the crew of junior execs couldn't come up with any jokes. We were the perfect couple.

  "Did you hear me, Rainer?" Ellison asked.

  "What? No." I blinked and turned back to her. Across the downtown ballroom, Tasha had just arrived with Seth, the landscaper. The damn golden boy looked great in a tuxedo, and I hated him even more.

  "I was asking if we should bid on Italy or Switzerland," Ellison said. "The Switzerland trip is in the fall so it might work better with our schedules, but the Italy vacation is at a private castle."

  "Our schedules?" I asked.

  Ellison patted my arms and put down a bid on the Italy vacation. She then led me through the rest of the silent auction, making tasteful choices and impressive bids. Charity was the only time Ellison let her deep, deep pockets show.

  Or maybe she'd been writing my name after the astronomical sums. I couldn't pay attention to anything but the swirl of Tasha's deep-blue dress across the room. I was still watching her when my phone buzzed. I saw Tasha take out her phone too, so I raced to check the message.

  "Apologies," I said to Ellison. "I've got to meet with the other execs over the speeches and toasts. You know how it is."

  Ellison knew and smiled. She really was the perfect woman, but my stomach coiled when she reached up to kiss me. That's why I turned my face at the last moment and let her land on my cheek.

  The feeling stayed with me as I met Tasha backstage. I couldn't even speak, I was so frustrated. Ellison was purposefully projecting the happy couple scene that everyone wanted to see, and no one noticed that I wasn't interested. I'd have to be insane not to be interested.

  But all I wanted was Tasha.

  "Stan wants us to do a quick speech about the community garden," Tasha said. "Are you up to it?"

  "If you're standing next to me," I said.

  "Good. Fine." Tasha moved to open the curtains, but I grabbed her hand.

  She turned to me with a shocked expression, but I couldn't let go. "I wanted to come here with you," I blurted out.

  "We're both here," Tasha said as if I was a slow child. "I'll stand by the podium while you handle the little impromptu speech."

  "Here's an impromptu speech," I said. "I can't leave it at just one night."

  Tasha tore her hand out of mine. "This is not the place to discuss what, ah, happened. It was a mistake."

  "I don't think it was." I struggled to catch her other hand and hold on. "In fact, it felt like the only thing I've done right in a really long time."

  "You're here with Ellison," Tasha hissed.

  "Only because you brought the hero to a bad romance novel," I said. "And how many times am I going to have to tell you that I'm not with Ellison?"

  Tasha's cheeks were flared red, and I knew she had sharp words waiting to flay me with, but the curtain suddenly opened. She had no choice but to put her hand in mine and walk with me to the podium. The band stopped playing, and every eye in the place turned to us.

  I didn't let go of her hand. Even after I'd given the charity gala crowd a two-minute run-down of GroGreen and our successful community garden, I held on to Tasha.

  She waited until we were shrouded behind the curtain again and snatched her hand back as if I'd burned her. "What were you thinking? Are you trying to cause a scandal?"

  "We presented a united front," I said. "In fact, we should probably stick together for a few more minutes. People might want to talk to both of us about the community garden and the campaign."

  Tasha slapped back my offered hand. "I'm not going to play the 'other woman' in your social media fairytale. We just work together, and that's it."

  "What are you worried people are going to think?" I took a step closer.

  Tasha backed up until she brushed against the curtain. "Holding hands is not something co-workers do. People are going to think we're intimate."

  "Holding hands is nothing. You know what feels intimate?" I asked. I leaned forward. "This feels intimate. We're hidden from sight back here. Just you and me."

  For a split second, Tasha softened. Even in the dim light backstage, I could see her cheeks warming. I lifted one hand to feel the heat of her blush, and Tasha leaned her soft cheek into my caress. My other hand found her waist, pulled her forward just an inch. Our lips were a breath apart.

  "No." Tasha pushed me back. "You're with Ellison, and I don't care if it's just for tonight or not. I'm not going to be part of this merry-go-round of women you've got."

  I clutched the velvet curtain in a fisted hand. "Stop trying to jam me into some little box," I said. "I'm no more the incurable playboy than you are the ice queen. I know it's easier for you to dismiss me if I'm defined, but I'm sick of it. Tasha, please, please see that I'm more than that."

  "What? Am I supposed to believe you're a changed man?" Tasha asked. "Do you have any idea how cliched that is? I won't fall for it. So, what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

  "I'm trying to talk to you!" I let go of the curtain and let both hands curl into fists.

  Tasha arched an eyebrow. "Fine. Talk. Tell me what you really want. What do you want from me, Rainer?"

  Those words coupled with her challenging look stopped me. Tasha had finally caught me without a speech prepared. The truth was I didn't know exactly what I wanted from her. And she deserved a man who knew exactly how far he was willing to go for her. I didn't deserve another chance with Tasha. I didn't even deserve to hold her hand.

  "Nothing to say?" Tasha asked. "Then how about you let me talk for a minute?"

  "Fine, but I'm not done," I said.

  Tasha tossed her hands in the air. "But that's wh
at we really should be talking about. It's over."

  I could have hit myself in the head for not noticing it before. I'd been so distracted that I hadn't thought through why Stan wanted us to make a quick speech at the gala.

  "The community garden project is done?" I asked.

  "Don't feel bad, Rainer," Tasha said. She chucked me on the shoulder. "You got what you wanted out of it. You're a billionaire, and everyone loved our outreach campaign. Now, you can celebrate with a wild spending spree or a trip around the world, or whatever you want."

  "Did Stan say it was over or did he cut the funding?" I asked.

  Tasha's sudden frown belied her calm voice. "The funding is done, and our presence is expected back at the office. 100%."

  She fled before I could ask her how she felt. All I could do was stand there in the dark behind the heavy curtain and wonder what I was going to do next.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tasha

  "I'm not saying your dress isn't perfect," Ivy said. "Just let me know next time, and we'll get you something truly haute couture."

  I thanked our waiter as he laid down the gold-embossed menus. Since Ivy was intent on studying all the charity gala photographs online, I left my menu unopened. "I was assured that I could never go wrong with vintage Valentino. Plus, it's just a black dress."

  "A drop-dead gorgeous dress." Ivy gasped again. "Wow. That is a low back."

  I laughed and tried to snatch her phone away, but my friend was too fast. "Ivy, stop. Please!"

  "Oh, no, definitely not. Now I know why there's a buzz going around. It seems Ms. Ellison Ramsey has been knocked off her society pages throne. There's half a dozen photographs of you, plus more with you prominently in the background." Ivy looked at each one. "And a lot of you with Rainer Maxwell."

  "We work together," I said.

  Ivy put her phone down. "Yes, dear, I know you work together. What I didn't know is that you looked that great as a couple. I mean, no wonder the paparazzi were snapping photographs. You look pretty cozy."

  I opened my menu like a shield. "Please tell me I can order a drink with lunch."

  "Yes. How about a nice Riesling? We'll have the whole bottle at the table," Ivy told our attentive waiter. He bowed and moved off through the linen-draped tables. "Whatever it takes for you to tell me the whole story."

  I knew I couldn't put Ivy off. There wasn't much that she didn't get one way or another. Plus, outside of my pregnant and preoccupied sister, Ivy was the only one I had to confide in. Still, I tried to distract her. "Do you think I should have a shrimp salad?"

  Ivy shook her head. "We don't order off the menu, darling. The chef will send something out with his compliments. Now, tell me."

  I plucked at the tines of my silver fork. "What's to tell? There was an attractive man and a lapse of judgment, but we work together, so it was a mistake. One that will never be repeated. Did you hear me? Never."

  "Oh, yes, I heard you. Sorry, Tasha, but saying 'never' twice is a sure sign it'll happen again." Ivy gave me a sympathetic smile and laid off until the waiter had filled our glasses.

  I took a sip of the crisp wine and tried again. "One mistake is enough for me."

  "But did you get enough of Rainer?"

  "Ivy!" I felt a blush heat my cheeks and had to force cooler thoughts. "Besides, I'm in between projects now at work, and I really have to focus."

  "What happened to the community garden?" Ivy asked. "I think that brilliant bit of PR is one of the reasons you ousted Ellison from the society pages. You managed to turn public opinion one-eighty, and now no one can get enough of you. Not even—"

  "Don't say his name," I said. "All I can think about right now is why Stan would cut off the funding so abruptly."

  Ivy gave a delicate wave to a notable couple not far from us. "If funding is the only problem, just give me five minutes. I have enough friends in this room alone to fund ten more years of that darling garden."

  "No. No, thanks. I'm sure Stan had his reasons. I mean, he's right. The whole point of GroGreen and the campaign was to show that communities could do this on their own," I said, hoping to convince myself.

  Ivy was not fooled. "It's important to you. Why not throw in some of your own hard-earned money and I'll match you dollar-for-dollar? How expensive can it be?"

  I sighed. "To keep a national campaign going across multiple media is much more than you'd think. Plus, I'd like to update the application with message boards and ways for the community gardens to share photographs and plans. That means paying a development team and my team is definitely not cheap."

  Ivy held up her glass. "Well, then here's to kicking in some serious money. I'm not kidding, Tasha, you name your figure, and I'll match you. Then we'll get at least three more tables to do the same without even getting up."

  "Thanks, Ivy." I smiled at my audacious friend. "The only problem is that I don't have anything to contribute. My finances are, um, not liquid anymore."

  Ivy raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. "What have you done, Tasha?" she asked.

  Now my cheeks were bright red. "I invested it all and only left myself what I earned last year."

  She caught my dodging gaze and leaned forward. "And why did you lock away all your newly made billions?"

  I took another long sip of wine and tried to sort it out in my own mind. "It felt like a lot of pressure. I'm sure you felt it when you got married. All of a sudden everything's different when really it's just a lot more numbers in your bank account."

  "And what did you do before this big decision?" Ivy asked.

  "What do you mean? Why?" I searched my memory. "I was at work and my useless assistant was calling out tabloid headlines. I got up to shut my office door and just decided."

  Ivy was not convinced. She saw that I had suddenly paled. "Rumors like Rainer getting engaged to Ellison?"

  I wanted to cry; the connection was so sudden and so awfully true. I had invested all of my money as some sort of spiteful response to Rainer's personal life. "Oh, god, Ivy. Why am I ruining my life?"

  She patted my hand and refilled my wine glass. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think you're the only one doing crazy things. I mean, Rainer is refusing to get engaged to Ellison. Ellison Ramsey! You're both nuts."

  Ivy's words stuck with me long after we finished our three-course lunch and said goodbye at the valet stand. I went back to work and was horrified to see Rainer chatting with Otto. He jumped up as if he'd been waiting for me.

  Otto leaned on the security desk and grinned. "Hello, Ms. Nichols," he called. "We were just talking about you."

  The absolutely last thing I wanted to see was the speculative expression on my friend's face. Actually, second to last. Rainer was the one person I wanted to avoid at all costs. I tried to wave politely and keep walking. My plan was to hit the regular bank of elevators and lose Rainer in the crowds returning from lunch.

  It backfired when I walked towards the executive elevator and the doors slid open. I had to step inside or Rainer would know I was avoiding him on purpose. I turned around just as he slipped in the doors. I saw Otto wave as the doors closed. It was just Rainer and me in the elevator.

  At least it's an express to the top floors, I told myself.

  "So, what are we going to do?" Rainer asked.

  "Excuse me?" I gasped.

  Rainer's expression broke into a surprised grin. "Sorry, wasn't trying to be suggestive. But if you have a different idea for this elevator ride then, please, elaborate."

  I wished I could slip through the floor and back down to the front doors. "What are we going to do about what? Oh, you mean the community garden?" I asked.

  "Well, now that you mention it—"

  I cut Rainer off. "I'm heading up to meet with Stan right now. First I want to hear his reasons for cutting off the funding, and then I'll decide which path I have to take."

  Rainer's eyes slid to the stop button and then back to me. "Wait, two paths? What are you talking about?"
/>   His mind was clearly on other things, things that made my heart stumble around. I cleared my throat. "Stan knows by now that I love the GroGreen project, so I only have two choices: fight or beg."

  Rainer leaned against the elevator wall and smiled at me. "So, you don't want to move on yet either?"

  "I thought you were ready to move on from the first moment you walked into our team meeting," I said. The words hit home, and I felt bad for making Rainer wince. "I'm just surprised that you liked all the extra work."

  "Watching preschoolers plant carrots was not what I'd call work. I enjoyed it," Rainer said.

  I blamed the express elevator for the sudden lightness in my head. "I love it. Plus, it's great for the company, and I just have to make Stan see that."

  Rainer stopped my babbling by standing up. He was suddenly too close. "So, you're going to fight. Does that mean I should beg?"

  "What?" I blinked up at him and forgot what I had said.

  "Well, it seems to me that your advice for getting what you want is to fight for it or beg. So, Tasha, tell me which one I should do." Rainer's gaze locked onto me.

  He was serious. Very serious. But I worried he wasn't talking about the GroGreen project anymore.

  It was all too much. The elevator was too tight and warm. Rainer was too close and causing too many thoughts to swirl around my head. I felt like a geyser about to erupt.

  I didn't know what else to do, so I got angry. "This is all a game to you, isn't it?" I asked him.

  Rainer took a step back and hit the stop button on the elevator. It lurched to a halt as he asked, "Are we talking about work or the rest of it?"

  "The rest of it?" I practically screeched. "There isn't anything else. You just want what you can't have. And you must think I'm some kind of moron that I don't know as soon as I give in, you'll get bored and move on. I'm not doing it."

  "You really think I'm heartless, don't you?" Rainer said. He restarted the elevator, and we made it to the executive floor in mere seconds.

  The doors slid open before I could control my breathing. "I don't know what to think," I said. "So, I'm going to work."