More Rules For Cheri (New Rules Book 2)

by Markie Morelli

  The sound of the intercom startled her and the pencils she’d been twirling flew out of her hand, scattering across her desk.

  “Yes, Mary,” she said punching the proper button.

  “Ms. Cavanaugh is on line one.”

  “Thanks.” Taking a deep, calming breath, Chéri picked up the phone and took the call that would change her life forever.

  Champagne corks popped one after another, even though it was barely noon.

  “To you, my dear,” Mr. Waters said, lifting his glass. “Congratulations. You’ve landed the biggest account this firm has ever had. That’s how it’s done, gentlemen,” he crowed to the group gathered in his large corner office.

  “Thank you,” Chéri murmured, perfectly aware of the disgruntled glances sent her way when Mr. Waters turned to look out the window. She sipped her champagne and ignored them.

  “And along with this account comes another important change in this company,” Waters continued. Turning back, he spoke with authority and great purpose. “Meet the new VP of Waters Advertising, Chéri Reynolds. I think another drink is in order, don’t you?” he asked smiling widely at the astonished faces around him.

  “Mr. Waters,” Chéri gasped, “I couldn’t.”

  “Of course you can, my dear. After all, you’ve earned it. This will be your new office,” he stated proudly, sweeping his hand around the room.

  “But this is your office,” she protested weakly, putting one hand on his desk to steady herself.

  “Don’t you worry about me,” he said. “I’ve wanted to take some time off for a while now. I’m not getting any younger you know, and Mrs. Waters has been after me to take her on a nice long cruise. I’m sure I can count on all of you to make Chéri’s transition smooth,” he said in a voice which clearly indicated replacements could be made if that was not the case.

  Heads nodded, hands were shook, and all the time Chéri stood on trembling legs.

  “Of course, this promotion comes with a substantial increase in salary along with the bonus we talked about,” he boomed happily.

  “I don’t see how I can possibly…” she began, feeling a bit like a trapped animal.

  “Nonsense, I have complete faith in you,” he insisted, refilling her glass. “Now, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You’ve earned it. Take Mike out for a celebratory dinner,” he suggested.

  Chéri had the feeling her husband wouldn’t feel much like celebrating once he heard what she had to say. Vice President! It was something she’d worked for and dreamed of for years, and now it had fallen into her lap. She took one last look at the gorgeous office with the floor to ceiling windows and plush carpeting as Mr. Waters ushered her out the door.

  On shaky legs, she walked back to her office and collapsed into her chair. Wow, a huge raise to go along with her bonus. She and Mike could finally take that trip to Europe they’d talked about and she would have a company car at her disposal so he could stop harping about her vehicle.

  She’d have to travel, much more often than she did now. As her daddy, he wouldn’t like that. It would require them to spend many nights apart with her unsupervised. No, he wouldn’t like that at all; in fact, he would hate it! He would be sure to point out she detested traveling without him, too. Chéri never felt safe in a hotel unless he was with her and there were always men who tried to take advantage of her temporary solitary status. Really, it was annoying as hell and some of them were very persistent.

  Of course, she didn’t have to take the job. She could march herself right back into Mr. Waters’ office and say “thanks, but no thanks.” She could give her notice and inform him that while she was willing to stay on until the Cavanaugh campaign was up and running smoothly, she would be leaving the firm after that. Or, she could agree to work part-time in the same capacity as she was now, but that would mean he would promote one of those yahoos and they would become her boss. Good grief, no way could she work for any of those self-important, opinionated, misogynistic jerks. Even when her daddy was at his worst, and so dominant she was shaking in her shoes, he never made her feel she was less than worthy. Her needs and desires were of primary importance to him, even as he satisfied his own.

  Kicking her heels off, she leaned back in her chair and sipped the champagne from the glass she hadn’t realized she was still holding. Staring out the window, she tried to imagine her life if she took the promotion.

  There would be more responsibility for sure. Longer hours, more stress, much less time to be what she really wanted to be, Daddy’s baby/wife. Could she come home each night from a position of tremendous authority and pressure and still be what Daddy needed her to be? Could she take off her mantle of power and surrender herself to him?

  It would be difficult, much more so than it had been when she was only an associate at the company. Closing her eyes, she set her glass down and rubbed her temples, hoping to soothe the headache that was beginning to throb.

  “Congratulations, I just heard,” Mary said with a grin, popping her head in the doorway. “That was quite a coup. I’ll bet the hounds are yipping and sniping at each other even as we speak.”

  Chéri smiled weakly. Mary always referred to the most pompous men on staff as hounds and Chéri knew exactly what she meant.

  “Yes, I imagine there’s quite of bit of finger pointing going on,” she agreed.

  “I’d like to be a fly on the wall at Halloran’s,” she laughed. “In fact, I may just stroll over there and have a bit of liquid lunch, just to see what’s being said.”

  “Don’t waste your time,” Chéri said. “It will only be a bunch of men crying in their martinis. If they worked half as hard as we do, one of them may have been offered the position.”

  “No, I think Water’s had you pegged as VP all along. He was just waiting for the right time and closing that account was it. I’m really happy for you, Chéri.”

  “Thanks. Listen, I’m going to take the rest of the day off. I have a lot of thinking to do. Would you send Jennifer Cavanaugh a tasteful arrangement of flowers along with my thanks?”

  “Sure, is something wrong?” Mary asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind her. “I would have thought you’d be over the moon, yet you seem kind of down,” she continued, cocking her head and looking at her curiously.

  Chéri studied Mary’s concerned blue eyes, took in her short black spiky haircut and decided to give her an edited version.

  “I’m not sure I want the job,” Chéri sighed.

  “Are you kidding?” Mary gasped, collapsing into the chair in front of the desk. “It’s everything you’ve worked for. Everything you wanted.”

  “It was, at one time. Now, I’m not so sure. You see, I was going to give my notice.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s nothing to do with the job itself, at least not entirely. It’s more personal.”

  “Are you ill? Is Michael sick?” Mary asked, leaning forward.

  “No, it’s nothing like that; it’s just… for a while we were having some problems. Over time we’ve sorted them out, and really, I’ve been happy. So happy, in fact, we decided it was time for me to make a change.”

  “I have noticed in the last couple of years you seem a little different. You’re not so demanding, not that I minded before,” Mary hurried to explain. “But you’re more relaxed now, more mellow. I thought it was because the boys went off to school and things calmed down at home.”

  “That’s part of it, but the real change is in my relationship with Michael. He’s sort of taken charge, assumed more responsibility at home, giving me time to relax and have some fun. Our marriage is stronger than ever and I’m concerned if I take the promotion I might go back to trying to micromanage everything. He’ll never stand for it,” Chéri admitted.

  “I don’t mean to pry,” Mary said gently, “but can you afford to quit with both boys in college?”

  “Yes, I can afford it. Michael made sure we saved for their education from the day they were bor
n. Although it would certainly mean a change in lifestyle, mainly mine,” Chéri admitted with a slight cringe. “I wouldn’t be able to spend so freely and I’d have to stay within a budget I’m sure.”

  “But Michael is willing to fully support you?” Mary asked shocked. “He’ll take care of all of your needs and let you stay home doing as you please?”

  “Essentially, yes,” Chéri said.

  “Wow, why can’t I find a man like that?” Mary said with a pout. “Wait, what’s the catch?” she demanded.

  “Catch?”

  “Yeah, what do you have to do in this bargain?”

  Chéri looked at her, trying to determine how honest she wanted to be. Finally, she decided to tell the truth, mostly.

  “I have to let him be the head of our household,” she admitted softly.

  “As in, he’s the boss? He takes care of all the bills and responsibilities and you do as he asks? Sort of like in the days before women burned their bras and demanded to be treated as equals? Not that it’s happened yet, but that was the idea.”

  “Yes, like that. Michael does all those things now. We share the household chores, but the heavy stuff all falls to him. He takes care of anything major, paying the bills on time, any repairs to the house or vehicles, that sort of thing.”

  “And you do?”

  “Mainly what I want, but also what he tells… asks me to do,” Chéri answered truthfully. “We find it really works well for us, as a couple.”

  “Well, hell, now I’m jealous as shit,” Mary sighed. “Why can’t I find a man like that instead of all the losers I date? They all want to know how much money I make and if I plan on having a family. Ugh! You’d be surprised how many men don’t want children. They might actually have to support someone other than themselves and God knows they wouldn’t be able to handle giving up the club where they meet their buddies for racquetball or buying a new car every year. Jerks! So what are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll have to talk it over with Michael and see how he feels about it,” Chéri replied, slipping her shoes on.

  “Well, I know what I’d do,” Mary snorted as she too got up.

  “What?” Chéri asked with a laugh.

  “I’d throw myself into the arms of that hunky husband you have and say, ‘take care of me, baby. I’m all yours,’” she insisted with a giggle. “I’d tell Waters he’d better get busy training one of those hounds to take my place.”

  “You would?”

  “You bet your ass I would. Crap, I better go and get that liquid lunch. I’m depressed now,” Mary added as she opened the door. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Don’t forget to send those flowers,” Chéri reminded her as she gathered up her things.

  “I’m on it.”

  The drive home took longer than usual. There was construction and delays and Chéri would not miss this drive five days a week. It could be gruesome, especially during bad weather. Once she got home, Chéri texted Michael and let him know she’d left work early and she had some things to discuss with him that night.

  After changing into jeans and a tee shirt, she took chicken from the freezer and defrosted it. Chicken Parmesan was one of her daddy’s favorite meals and she spent the afternoon preparing that as well as a fresh salad. At the last minute, she would cook some angel hair pasta and pop some garlic bread into the oven.

  Chéri set the table in the dining room before going upstairs to change. In her room, she took a dress from her closet she hadn’t worn before. While not babyish, it was definitely designed for a young woman. The waist was tight with a wide belt, the skirt full with a built in crinoline. Little cap sleeves and a scoop neckline reminded Chéri of a dress she’d had as a teenager. The green color would bring out her eyes and she wanted to look pleasing to her daddy. Slipping on a pair of his preferred ruffled panties, she didn’t bother with stockings as she knew he hated them anyway. No heels were needed. Daddy didn’t mind her being short, in fact, he’d mentioned many times that he loved picking her up to kiss her, so she put on a pair of black flats and pulled her long hair up into a ponytail, tying it with a black bow.

  Going to her changing table, she took the baby powder and carefully dusted her neck and shoulders with a little. He loved the smell of it and found it more alluring on her than her most expensive perfume. Then she hurried downstairs and tied a sheer, pretty white apron trimmed with green edging around her waist.

  Chéri wasn’t sure what she was hoping for. A part of her wanted him to absolutely insist she give her notice and refuse the promotion. After all, she’d given her word. Another part wanted him to say it was her decision and he would back her no matter what choice she made. They could still pursue their age-play relationship, albeit on a much more restricted scale.

  She distinctly remembered feeling like this before, she noted as she put the water for the pasta on to boil. There was a time when her husband couldn’t please her, no matter what he did or said and she was very much afraid this was also going to be one of those times. No matter what his decision was, some part of her was going to resent it.

  If he said she had to quit, she would see him as overly authoritarian and critical of her career. If he told her to take the promotion, she would assume he didn’t really want her to be his babygirl full time. In her heart she realized it wasn’t fair, but she knew herself too well to gloss over the facts. Her daddy was between a rock and a hard place, and she’d put him there with her own wishy-washy attitude. Now she didn’t feel strong enough to stand up to either her daddy or her boss. She needed someone to take charge and make the decision for her, but would it be the right one?

  Chapter 5

  “Well look at you,” Michael said as he walked in the kitchen door. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing,” he continued. Tossing his coat over a stool, he lifted her hand above her head and twirled her, watching her dress flair out, revealing her panties.

  “I got your text, baby,” he said, pulling her into his arms and sniffing her neck approvingly. “God, you smell so sweet.” Nuzzling her beneath her ear, he sighed in pleasure. “Why did you leave work early? Is everything all right?”

  “Yes and no,” she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on tiptoe to kiss him.

  “Hmm, sounds ominous,” he stated, kissing her back. “Who do you need me to be, babygirl? Am I Daddy or your husband?”

  “I need you to be both,” she confessed. “I need… I need… oh, I don’t know what I need.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he assured her, patting her bottom gently. “But let’s have dinner first. It smells almost as good as you.”

  “I made your favorite,” Chéri replied, nervously stepping out of his arms.

  “Did you feel the need to soften me up?” he asked, grinning.

  “Maybe a little,” Chéri admitted with a shiver she couldn’t hide. “Don’t tease me, Daddy. I’ve had a very stressful day.”

  “Relieving your stress is my specialty,” he pointed out. “Just let me go wash up. Then we’ll straighten out anything that’s bothering you.”

  “I wish it was going to be that easy,” she snapped, turning to the stove and picking up the box of pasta.

  “Easy?” he asked with a laugh. “Are you under the mistaken impression you’re somehow low maintenance?”

  Chéri frowned over her shoulder at him as he headed from the room. It was true. She was not low maintenance. In fact, she probably required more attention than three wives, little ones or not. For a moment guilt swamped her, then she recalled this was all his idea and grinned. Served him right! He’d created his needy little girl monster, now he had to pay the price.

  She had no idea how he was going to take the information she would soon reveal and had been apprehensive all day, but the truth was, it wasn’t really her problem. From the moment they’d walked in the door on Sunday morning, literally everything was his problem. It was almost funny. He was getting everything he wanted and probably some thing
s he didn’t. This situation was one of them. He wanted to be the daddy, let him decide.

  Once that realization washed over her, she began to relax. By the time he returned, she was humming softly as she placed their meal on the dining room table.

  “Do you want some wine, Daddy?” she asked absently.

  “Will I need it?” he inquired as he took his seat across from her.

  “Umm, yeah, I think you will,” she said with a naughty grin.

  “Oh God, bring on the vino,” he sighed.

  “May I have some?”

  “You may, but only because you look so sweet and wifely, not counting those panties, which I will admire shortly.”

  “Thanks, Daddy,” she replied as she rose with a flounce and retrieved the bottle from the kitchen counter, pouring them each a glass.

  “So,” he asked as he placed a small piece of chicken on her plate. “What is this important issue we have to discuss?”

  “Maybe you should eat first,” she suggested, taking a gulp of her wine.

  “Maybe you should just spit it out,” he countered, helping himself to the salad dressing as he stared at her pointedly.

  “All right, but don’t blame me if you get indigestion,” she warned, leaning forward to add pasta to his plate.

  “I imagine there will be plenty to blame you for besides that,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

  “Well, if you’re going to take that attitude before we even begin, I…”

  “Chéri, unless you’d like to have your dinner sitting on a very red bottom, I suggest you start talking. My patience is wearing thin.”