Mister Diamond

by Chance Carter

  I laughed. “I wouldn’t even think such a thought. Have a good week, Bernie. Don’t work too hard.”

  “Hi Bernie! Bye Bernie!” Evelyn called from the backseat.

  “Hey trouble!” Bernie’s voice raised an octave. “Make sure you take care of your dad this week, and remember that game I taught you.”

  I shot a look back at my daughter. “Whatever it is, forget about it.”

  Evelyn pouted.

  “Have a good trip!” Bernadette said. “I’ll hold down the fort until you’re back.”

  “I know you well. Speak soon.”

  I hung up the phone just as we arrived in front of Graywoods Elementary School, and I punched the speed dial button for Gemma.

  “I’m sorry! I’m coming!” she answered, clearly frazzled. I could hear her panting breaths as she presumably sprinted from her classroom. “I didn’t want to leave too much work for the sub.”

  I smiled. “That’s what they’re there for, Diamond.”

  “Like you’d do any different.”

  “Point taken.”

  The school’s blue side door burst open and Gemma emerged, holding a stack of papers under one arm. She hung up the phone and waved, scuttling to a stop at the passenger door.

  “Mommy! Guess what I did today!” Evie cried as Gemma opened the door.

  Gemma looked back and laughed. “From the looks of it you and Uncle Dexter were playing Picasso again.”

  I turned my head to look at Evie and frowned. She’d left one small spot. She stuck her tongue out at me, knowing full well that I’d give her the cookie anyway. I had no restraint where she was concerned.

  Gemma closed the door and we took off.

  “You got all the bags?” she asked.

  “Every single one.”

  “And the tickets?”

  I cocked a brow. “You do remember I run a successful business and a multi-million-dollar charity?”

  “Dominik, did you bring the tickets?”

  I sighed and reached across, yanking open the glove compartment. Our tickets nearly slid out onto Gemma’s lap and she leaned over to give me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Will you stop fussing now?” I asked.

  Gemma winced. “No. Now I’m just going to worry about other things.” She turned to me and lowered her voice. “Are we sure this is such a good idea? The last time I saw your father was three years ago when I was yelling in his face.”

  I snorted at the memory. Things had changed so much since then, but some things would always be the same. Gemma’s worrying and my endless devotion to her being only a couple examples.

  “He probably respects you more than most of his business contacts because of that stunt,” I told her, reaching over to hold her hand. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise you. And remember, he’s turned down the grumpy dial a lot since he and Valentina got together.”

  Gemma stared straight ahead, lips flattening. “Right. Just another reason to look forward to the trip. Valentina.”

  I laughed and squeezed Gemma’s hand. “It’ll be fine. They’re in love, we’re in love, everybody’s in love. What could go wrong?”

  “I need to go to the bathroom!” Evie announced from the backseat.

  I gritted my teeth. “Why would I even say that? Next time it seems like I’m going to say that can you just slap me?”

  Gemma chuckled and turned around to face our daughter. “Can you hold it for another few minutes, sweetie? We’re nearly there.”

  “Okay, Mommy,” Evie said sweetly.

  I took the exit for the airport, grumbling, “Why can she never be acquiescent when it’s me asking?”

  Gemma leaned across and kissed my cheek. “Because the ladies of this household exist to make things more difficult for you.”

  “And yet I’d still add another tomorrow,” I noted. Shooting Gemma a sidelong glance, I added, “Have you thought about having another?”

  She looked more surprised than I expected. “You want another?”

  “Of course. You and that little brat are the best things that have ever happened to me.”

  Gemma’s face split open with sunbeams and she let out a whine, like she was holding back a happy scream. I eyed her skeptically. “Are you okay...? Do you need me to pull over?”

  “Nik,” she whispered. “I was going to tell you this after the trip but...” She shot a glance back at Evie, who was too distracted ripping up the baby wipe into a thousand pieces to notice the shift in the air. “I’m pregnant.”

  All I wanted to do was swerve to the side of the road, pounce on my woman, and kiss her until our mouths were raw. Since we had a plane to catch I held back, grabbing her hand instead and squeezing.

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  Gemma nodded. “I only just found out yesterday.”

  “And you’re sure?”

  She grinned. “Completely.”

  “Diamond,” I whispered, pulling her knuckles to my lips and kissing them emphatically. “You have no idea how happy you’ve just made me.”

  “It’s a good thing we’re pulling your dad back into the fold,” she joked. “The more babysitters the better.”

  I shot her a skeptical look. “We are not sending the kids to Russia every time we want to have a date night.”

  As if on cue, Evie screamed in a high-pitched voice. “Mommy! Daddy! Look at the airplanes!”

  I winced. “I take that back.”

  Gemma and I broke down into laughter.

  I often thought about the day my father announced that I was getting married, how he ordered me to get a ring and set in motion a series of events that neither of us could have foreseen. I was grateful to my old man for many things in life.

  Without his firm guidance, I wouldn’t be the man I was, the tycoon I’d turned out to be. Without his faults, I wouldn’t have the family I cherished more than air itself. He’d sent me in search of one diamond, and I’d come out with another, the brightest and shiniest of them all.

  My Diamond.

  Keeping her was the easiest decision I’d ever had to make.

  Because, of course, diamonds are forever.

  The Baby Favor

  CHANCE CARTER

  Chapter 1

  Derek

  “A baby,” he growled, his wheezy cough interrupting him mid-sentence. “That’s the only thing that matters, son. A baby. An heir. If you don’t have a baby before I die, I’ll never forgive you.”

  Personally, having a kid wasn’t at the tippy top of my priority list. I mean, in order to have a baby, you first need a woman, and even that wasn’t at the top of my list.

  Not the type of woman I’d want to start a family with, at least.

  But my father was leaving me in no doubt. Starting a family was the only thing that would gain his approval.

  I didn’t understand it. My dad, with no less than four failed marriages under his belt, was disappointed in me because I hadn’t yet provided the family with an heir.

  I was only thirty-four, after all, and had plenty of time. I was too busy running the company he’d passed on to me to think about marriage and children.

  I looked at the letter from his doctors. It had been in my hands since opening it an hour ago.

  “Three months,” it said.

  That’s how long my father could expect to live.

  Lung cancer.

  He’d been battling it for two years. Who would have thought that a rich, clever, obstinate old man who knew how to get his way whatever the cost, would be dying because he refused to give up his smoking habit.

  It broke my heart.

  I’d just gotten back from visiting him for the weekend and my doorman handed me the note.

  “It is our professional opinion that your father will expire during the next three months.”

  I struggled to read the words through the tears in my eyes.

  We’d never been especially close. He was a tough son of a gun. He was never satisfied with anything, leas
t of all me. I’d spent the last few years of my life trying to make amends for my mistakes, building up his company into a billion dollar empire in the few years I’d been CEO, but no matter what I did, it was never enough.

  “What use is an empire if it has no heir?” he’d wheezed into my face when I went to his room to say goodbye.

  “I’ve got years ahead of me to start a family,” I told him.

  “Gah,” he spat, waving his hand at me to show his disgust. “No heir, no inheritance.”

  I didn’t care about inheritance. Despite our wealth, money wasn’t the motivating factor in my life.

  “And no inheritance, and you won’t be carrying on our family name. I’ll disown you, son. Do you hear me? I’ll wipe the records clear of you. The family line will end with me and you won’t even be permitted to attend my funeral.”

  Now that hurt.

  Despite my seemingly carefree youth, my playboy ways, my lack of a wife or children, family was the most important thing in my life. The bonds of blood, the loyalty of family, that’s what I cared about. And he knew it.

  Things devolved quickly after that. He banned me from attending his funeral, he said he was cutting me out of the family, and he screamed at me to get out of his sight.

  His butler apologized as he escorted me from the room, but I got the distinct impression that if the old man asked him to, he and the other staff would ban me from the entire premises, would ban me from the funeral, and would see that every letter of my father’s will was carried out to a tee.

  “There’s nothing I can do to please that man,” I muttered to myself, placing my head in my hands and massaging my temples.

  I had to come up with a way to fix this.

  I’d regret it the rest of my life if my father died while being mad at me over this.

  Despite our rocky relationship, he was still my father—my old, dying father—and I was not ready to let him go. Not without bridging the gap between us first.

  But he was sort of putting me in an impossible position. I couldn’t just snap my fingers and provide him with the heir he so desperately wanted.

  I wasn’t dating anyone, and apart from flings and one night stands, I hadn’t been with a woman in years. I knew I could find a wife and start a family eventually, but in three months?

  Impossible.

  I went to bed exhausted. Fighting with my father always wore me out. During the night, I dreamt that I was driving toward the cemetery where all my family have been buried for generations. As I approached the big, brass gates, my father’s butler waved me over to the side of the road.

  “Sorry, sir. You can’t go any further.”

  “It’s my father’s funeral,” I protested.

  He shrugged and a police car appeared, escorting me away from the cemetery.

  * * *

  I woke up in a cold sweat and got out of bed. I had to fix this. I solved major problems for a living. I could solve this one.

  It was still before dawn but I put on the coffee machine and sat down at the counter in the kitchen with a pencil and pad of paper.

  “Find someone to have a baby with,” I wrote across the top.

  I stared at the words, sipping my americano, as the sun began to brighten the room.

  Then I wrote, “Find someone to pretend I’m having a baby with.”

  And that’s how it all began. It was going to be that simple.

  Or so I thought.

  At the time, I had zero clue that what I was about to embark on would turn my life upside down, bring me to the brink of chaos, and ultimately, change every aspect of my life, forever.

  I wasn’t entirely sure the idea was good, it definitely had a few risks, but I couldn’t think of any alternative. And I was too stubborn not to do something, a trait my dear father had passed on to me.

  I was going to have to fool my father.

  Not an easy task when he was known internationally for being one of the most cunning and astute negotiators in the business world.

  Even in his seventies, even sick, he was sharp as a tack. If I didn’t proceed cautiously, if I didn’t make sure every single detail was perfect, he’d see right through the entire thing.

  I would have to be extremely convincing.

  I thought about it a while, tapping my fingers on the counter and sipping my coffee. I thought about it while showering, shaving, and putting on my freshly pressed suit. I thought about it on the drive in to the office, and the ride up the elevator to the hundredth floor.

  And I thought about it right through my first meeting of the day.

  The office was where I spent most of my time. It was the one thing that I had inherited from my father that he wouldn’t be able to take away from me. After he retired, I stepped up as the head of Rittsman Enterprises, an investment firm that my grandfather created back in the early 1940’s. My grandfather, and my father after him, had brought the company unmatched success, and it was my turn to carry on the legacy.

  In many ways, I was only a figurehead. There was a whole committee of older men my father had put in place to run the day to day operations. My job was to attend meetings, show up for press conferences, charm shareholders, and look good for the cameras of the Business News Network.

  It was an important job, yes, but not one of much substance.

  But dedicating my life to Rittsman Enterprises was not enough for my father.

  Right on time, my secretary, an older woman named Janet, called.

  “Good morning, Mr. Rittsman,” she said. “How are you doing this morning?”

  “Good, Jan. What’s the news?”

  “Your meeting at ten has been cancelled. I think there’s a bug going around the office.”

  “It’s been cancelled?” I asked, “Really?”

  “Sorry, Derek,” Janet drawled. “I thought you’d be happy.”

  Normally, I would be. There wasn’t anything worse than trying to stay awake through a five-hour meeting in which the directors couldn’t even reach a consensus on what color our business cards should be. Being the head of an investment firm paid well, but it was dreadfully dull work.

  Today, however, I would have welcomed the distraction.

  The family business, I thought drearily. It’s the reason my father is so keen on ensuring an heir. He worked hard to build this business, and he’ll be damned if it’s handed off to a stranger one day.

  “I just don’t know what to do with all this free time, Jan.” I said, trying to sound cheerful.

  “Well, if you’re really looking for something to do,” I could hear her tapping her pen on her desk, “the manager who was supposed to be interviewing some potential interns walked out this morning, and I can’t find anyone who has time to deal with them. It’s not really that important of a job, especially for someone like you, but…”

  “Oh, fine, that’s fine. Send them up. It’ll be good to see some young blood. Thanks, Jan. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “You’re very welcome, Mr. Rittsman.”

  I tidied up my desk and took another sip of my coffee, trying not to think about my father.

  Some five minutes later, after a rap on the door, Jan let in the first candidate. I steeled myself for the task, turning my attention toward the girl in the doorway.

  And, no lie, this sexy little creature literally took my breath away.

  I had to gasp for air as my eyes gazed up and down her sensuous, seductive, deliciously curvy body.

  She had one of those asses I just wanted to bury my face in. Her breasts curved generously in her dress. I imagined lifting her up and throwing her on my desk. I wanted to push her back and dive in under her dress, rip off her panties with my teeth, and sink my tongue into her pussy.

  Fuck. I was getting hard and I adjusted my position in the chair to try and hide the fact I had a boner sticking up from my lap.

  She was young, about twenty. Her hair was pulled back in a braid, a few loose curls framing her face. There was a light blush o
n her cheeks, and her lips were full and pink. Her dark doe eyes were round and sweet, darting shyly from me to the floor. She was dressed in a simple black mini dress that hugged every curve in the most delicious manner.

  God, she looked irresistible.

  I was quiet for a second too long while I tried to get my act together, and attempted to form a coherent sentence. She just stood at my door, biting her lip, patiently waiting.

  “You… you’re here to interview for the interview… I mean, for the intern position, yes?”

  “Um, yes,” she said with a little giggle. “My name is Amelia Parker. Just Amy, if you like.” She looked at me nervously. “Sorry. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to talk to you today, Mr. Rittsman.”

  I smiled warmly and stood up. Then I realized my erect penis was pressing against the front of my pants and grabbed a file from my desk and held it in front of me.

  “Hello, Amy. Nice to meet you. I’m Derek. Don’t worry, my role here is no more important than our interns’. Sometimes I like to participate in the hiring process, since, you never know, this could be the start of a long career here.”

  I led her over to the comfortable seating in my office, gesturing to an arm chair before sitting across from her. She looked wide-eyed around the room before looking back at me.

  “It’s really nice up here,” she said.

  “Thank you. It’s all a sign of how successful our company has become,” I shrugged. “Now, enough about me. Let’s hear about you.”

  She nodded quickly and scrambled to look through her green folder.

  “Here’s my resume,” she said, handing me a single piece of paper.

  I skimmed through it then placed it on the table.

  “You’re attending CBS? Impressive. For business, I assume? What are you planning on doing with your degree?”

  I was finding it hard to concentrate. The way she was sitting, ankles crossed, leaning forward, I had a generous view of her perfect round breasts. I found myself fantasizing about ripping that dress off her and sucking each of her nipples until she begged me to stop.

  My cock was in complete agreement, tingling with desire at the thought of sinking into her warm, wet pussy.