Single Dad’s Plaything: A Single Dad First Time Billionaire Romance

by Natasha Spencer

  “I feel that way about here,” Chanda nodded. “I understand what you are saying because I have grown blind to the beauty of the world, too. I have taken things for granted and closed my eyes. Now I am seeing so much. Thank you.”

  The sincerity in her tone melted his heart. He kissed her again. He couldn’t stop delighting in her beauty and the softness of her skin and lips.

  “Shall we move on?” she asked him as she pulled away. “People here are modest and don’t believe in huge public displays of affection.”

  “I don’t care what other people think,” Chris responded with a smirk. “But sure. Let’s move on. There’s a museum I’d like to see.”

  “I think the museum is now closed,” Chanda giggled.

  By then it was getting dark. The city was flooded with lights and the parks were lit up prettily. “The time really flew by with you,” Chris said, dazed by how late it was.

  “You slept in very late,” she answered. “But we can eat. And then we can see a movie?”

  “All right. Date night it is.”

  “I will have to go to work tomorrow. What will you do with yourself?” Chanda asked as they clambered the steps down from the temple to find a restaurant.

  “I’ll die of boredom and loneliness without you,” Chris teased. Then he paused as he actually considered the situation. “I don’t know. What should I do?”

  “You could go see your museum? I will be working until five. Then we can do something together.”

  “You could quit your job and let me pay your way,” Chris offered. “That way we don’t have to be apart.”

  “Oh, no. They promised me a promotion. I can’t quit my job now!”

  Chris nodded. “It just seems like they work you very hard for so little pay.”

  “Yes, but I earn enough to survive on my own. Most girls need roommates or live with their parents still. They are just waiting to get married to someone who can support them. Some of them are widows, or have very poor or sick husbands who can’t support them. All of us are in need. I’m doing very well compared to many of them. I don’t live in the slums and I have my place.”

  “But you said that it’s a struggle to eat,” Chris argued.

  “It can be if I don’t have much money left over after my rent. But I don’t mind. I eat enough.”

  “You’re so skinny,” he said worriedly, pinching her slender side. Then he caught sight of her hands, worn and stained by dye. “And this work is very hard on your body, it seems.”

  “It’s not so bad,” she said pleasantly. “Now where do you want to eat?”

  Chris took Chanda to another unusual restaurant and fed her stuffed portabella mushrooms. A woman was playing piano and after they finished their dinner and wine, they began to slow dance on the softly lit dance floor. Chanda rested her head on Chris’s shoulder and intertwined her arms around his waist. She drifted across the floor at his guidance like a feather, light and content to follow the breeze.

  Laughing, they walked together and held each other back to Chanda’s place. They stumbled in kissing without even turning on the light. Chris gently pushed her onto the bed and reached up under her shirt, relishing the smooth expanse of the skin over her taut belly.

  “Stop,” she said suddenly. “I’m a virgin.”

  “I know,” he responded, whispering into her stomach. “I will be gentle.”

  “Will it hurt?” she asked earnestly, panic creeping into her voice.

  “I don’t know. But I want to make you feel good.”

  Chanda slowly relaxed, releasing herself to Chris. As he gently removed her clothes, she shut her eyes and trusted him. The feeling of his arms tight around her offered a comfort that distracted her from all of her fear. As he began to cover her in little kisses, she relaxed even more, and welcomed this new experience, this new life. Chris could feel her letting go of her fear and her scent filled his nostrils as he explored her delectable body with his hands, his lips, and his tongue. Each time she moaned in pleasure, he felt himself lose his mind a little bit.

  Chapter 7

  The next day, Chris had to find what to do with himself. It was not hard. While he had never been much of a traveler, he loved exploring his ranch and the local area in Hill Country, Texas. He would even go spelunking without fear or inhibition. Some of the caves that he had explored alone, after his brother who usually accompanied him on such ventures died, had been very dangerous and he wondered how he had made it out of them alive. In his more depressed days, he had sometimes hoped that he might fall down a sinkhole or get stuck in a cave, never to see the light of day again or deal with the criticism of all of the people who blamed him for Jake’s death.

  Now he was determined to explore Cambodia and get to know the country that his beautiful bride-to-be inhabited. His explorative nature was on fire. He couldn’t wait to comb through this new country and discover things even Chanda didn’t know about.

  First, he went to the great Tuol Tom Poung Market and browsed the countless vendors. The market almost overwhelmed him with its various sights and smells. There were exotic spices, raw meat hanging in rows, and beautiful silk tapestries and clothes. The place was stereotypically Asian in some ways, but surprisingly Western as well. He finally found Chanda a pair of diamond and gold earrings. They were exorbitantly overpriced but he knew that he had plenty of money. He had them gift wrapped in ornate gold paper. He also found her a silk night gown that felt more like satin on his hands. He could only imagine caressing her body while she wore it. He left the gifts on Chanda’s bed before embarking on his first lone adventure in Cambodia.

  It was not expensive to take a crowded, swaying bus to Angkor Wat, a huge complex of ruined temples. Chris clung to the overhead bar to save his life; the old man sitting before him kept looking up at him, then dissolving into laughter. When they arrived, Chris joined a small tuk-tuk tour that was taking people through the maze of old temples, pointing out significant historical points of interest. As he surveyed the crumbled temples and the vines growing on the stones, he thought about how different this place was from Texas. Would Chanda enjoy Texas? Would she fit in? She was distinctly different from anyone he knew in his small town. She might not get along with people there well. They were all so close-minded and xenophobic, very hateful to strangers and new people who weren’t just as hateful and pitiful as them. But Chanda was also very nice, so maybe she would be all right. Nevertheless, he was concerned. Perhaps he should just abandon everything and run away with her and settle here….

  Chris’s heart ached as he considered his life in America. He had everything by some measures. A huge mansion, a swimming pool, beautiful horses who were mostly former prize winners in showing or barrel racing or even racing, twelve hundred head of healthy USDA-grade Angus cattle, and plenty of oil that didn’t seem close to running dry on his property. His ranch was gorgeous and he owned two new trucks and a Cessna airplane. But behind closed doors, he had no family and no friends. He spent his days alone for the most part, ate alone or with his cook Rita, and slept alone. Except for his small smattering of silly online relationships, he texted and talked to no one. The family he had left all despised him and envied him the wealth that he gathered from the ranch and his inheritance. So now, for the first time in his life, he felt complete. Loved and wanted. It was a feeling any man wanted, even a lone ranger like Chris.

  The tour concluded in evening and he took a long bus home. He arrived back at Chanda’s very late and told her about his adventure. She had made dinner and was waiting for him wearing her new nightgown. She modeled it as if it were an evening dress.

  “Sit on my lap and eat with me,” Chris told her, grinning.

  She perched on his lap, as light as a little song bird. She fed him the noodles and beef that she had made as he told her about his adventure that day. “It was the most beautiful place I have ever visited, though it was crowded,” he commented, still dazzled by what he had seen. “There’s so much more to the world than I re
alized. I’m really glad I made the effort to come here. I am not disappointed by anything.”

  “I always wanted to go there. I went as a very little girl with my cousin Yun’s family but I don’t remember much. I just remember that it was a lot of walking.”

  “It was a huge place,” Chris agreed.

  Then he pulled his nightgown over her shoulders and they made love in the chair. It didn’t hurt her at all; she arched her back, thrust her breasts into him, and moaned deep in her throat with pleasure. Their bodies fit together like gloves, so tight and harmonious.

  Afterward, they curled up in bed, with Chanda resting her head on Chris’s chest. Chris kept his hands on her bare back, holding her tight. As her chest rose and fell with her breath, he felt peaceful and content. The cuddling was even better than the sex; he enjoyed every moment of both activities. Just as he was about to fall asleep, he gave her a small kiss on the forehead and she sighed happily.

  The next day, Chris spent the day wondering the city again, visiting pagodas. Several people stopped to talk to him about the history and help him with his pronunciation. He was surprised how friendly these people were, even though they were broken by poverty and pestilence. The humility and kindness that these people expressed was a far cry from how Americans acted, especially Americans who had so much. Chris dropped his hard façade and became friendly back. By the end of the day, he felt uplifted and full of confidence. It was raining hard all day so he hid out under any shelter that he could find until a kind old lady gave him an umbrella covered in Hello Kitty faces. He gave her a hundred dollars for it and she couldn’t stop thanking him.

  When Chanda was finally off of her shift, they went to dinner at Chanda’s aunt and uncle’s. While Chris felt nervous, his pleasant day exploring Cambodia made him feel better. “They are like my second parents,” she explained as they rode to their destination in the luxury of an air conditioned cab. “My aunt was my mother’s sister. She married into money. She was always kind and generous to us when she could help,” Chanda explained.

  “It is good that you have supportive family. Do you know what they think of me?”

  “My aunt will tell me after she meets you,” Chanda assured him.

  That didn’t assuage Chris’s nerves. He decided to change the subject. “Aren’t you tired after today? I’m sure your feet and hands hurt.”

  “I’m used to it,” she said, folding her hands across her lap to hide how hideous they looked. “My feet and hands have grown very strong.”

  “I’m sure they have. Still, I can give you a massage later, if you want.”

  She peered at him curiously, clearly aroused by the offer. “I have never been given a massage by a man before.”

  He held up his own hands, rough and strong from years of ranch work. “I am very strong. I can massage your muscles into submission.”

  She laughed. “OK.”

  They arrived at the house. Though it was small and simple, Chris could tell it was nice by the city’s standards. When they entered, they removed their shoes. A little old woman bowed and welcomed them. She didn’t look Chris in the eyes, but it was clear that she was studying them in her own discreet way.

  “You are both very welcome,” she said generously.

  “So you are Chris,” said a young woman who appeared out of a room in the back.

  “Yun.” Chanda hugged her cousin. “Yes, this is Chris.”

  Chris bowed courteously.

  Yun beamed. “You are very handsome! You look like a movie star.” She looked him up and down, taking in his Western dress.

  “Go help set the table for dinner,” her mother scolded her.

  Then Chanda’s uncle appeared. He was clearly very stern but polite as he welcomed Chris into the home and the family. Chris was prepared for an interview, like with most fathers, but Chanda’s uncle seemed content to simply study him from across the table where they sat to eat.

  The table was spread out with several delicious dishes. They started with a simple dish of pickled vegetables and spinach on rice. As they ate, Chanda talked about how lucky she felt to have visited the temple recently.

  “Yes? You took her?” asked the uncle in his stilted English.

  “I did,” Chris nodded.

  “Lucky girl. What did you wear?” Yun inquired.

  “Nothing special,” Chanda laughed.

  “You haven’t bought her many new clothes?” Yun cried indignantly.

  Chris felt ashamed. “I plan to.”

  “He bought me these,” Chanda said, showing off her new earrings. “I will never take them off now.”

  Her aunt coldly surveyed the earrings. “You best not wear those to work,” she said in Khmer. “You will attract the wrong attention.”

  Chris noticed how Chanda seemed to sober at what her aunt said.

  Next, they had a dish of fish and rice. Again, it was superb. “I love your cooking,” Chris complimented the aunt.

  She looked pleased and nodded.

  “Her English is not the strongest,” Yun explained. “But she knows what you said. That’s her happy expression.”

  Once dinner was finished, they gathered in the living room to talk. Chanda’s aunt asked him, “Has Chanda told you about her family?” she managed in her rough English.

  Chris nodded. “Mostly.”

  “I have told him about Mother and Father,” Chanda explained in Khmer. Then she translated for Chris, who sat there, bewildered and unsure of himself. It didn’t help that both her cousin and her uncle were staring at him, seeming to watch him for any blunder or flaw.

  “That is good,” the aunt nodded. “Is he respectful toward you?”

  Chanda nodded. This time she didn’t translate. Chris didn’t want to know. He busied himself with taking in the very old decorations in the room, such as the silk fan hanging on the wall.

  The aunt began to explain the stories behind each of the things that she had. Mostly they were family items, belonging to her husband’s ancestors. Chanda and Yun acted as translators. They also took him on a tour throughout the modest house with its grass matt floors and beautifully decorated walls. There seemed to be so much rich history contained in this little house.

  Before they left, the aunt took Chanda’s hands and murmured something to her in Khmer. Then Yun hugged her and hesitated before bowing before Chris. “You’re very lucky,” she told her cousin in Khmer.

  “What did they say about me?” he inquired anxiously when they reached the street and began walking to the main thoroughfare to get a tuk tuk.

  “They like you,” Chanda said contentedly. “Very much. They wish us the best of luck.”

  “We don’t need luck,” Chris said, overcome with relief and joy as he pulled Chanda close. “This is destiny, I think.”

  Chapter 8

  “So today you are going,” Chanda said forlornly over breakfast. They were eating fish and red beans at a small café near Chanda’s apartment. She was wearing her earrings and they caught the light, turning it into rainbows that danced across the table top.

  Chris could barely eat. The thought of going home filled him with intense dread. While he didn’t really care for the dirty third-world grit of Phnom Penh, he couldn’t imagine going back to the loneliness and isolation of home. “I can’t imagine living without you,” he said.

  Chanda smiled softly. “But it is necessary.”

  “I want to marry you. I want to get you a visa, and have you live with me,” he went on.

  Chanda looked down at her food to hide the joy suffusing her face. “I would like that,” she said finally, keeping her tone simple.

  “Are you sure?” Chris peered at her, surprised at how calmly she took his proposal. “Is this what you want?”

  “It is what I have wanted since I joined the site. Now that I know you, I know that you are the one I want to go to America with. I deleted my account; I won’t speak to any other men. You are the one that I want,” she replied. She reached across the table an
d clasped his hand. “I will marry you.”

  Chris beamed. “OK. I will get to work on the visa arrangements. I heard that it can take a very long time.”

  “That’s fine. I just want to be with you.”

  Chanda had to go to work and couldn’t accompany Chris to the airport. They held each other for a long time before she left. Chris tried to stay strong and not betray his overwhelming emotion as he left her. “I pray that you don’t change your mind,” he said as they finally parted.

  “I won’t,” she swore.

  “I love you,” Chris said urgently.

  She smiled and clasped his neck a final time. “I love you too.”

  “Quit your job,” he went on. “I will send money. You will live like a queen until I can send for you.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t quit my job.”

  He sighed. “You don’t trust me, do you?”

  “It is not that. I simply must work. I don’t know what will happen so I must continue making money.”

  He nodded. “Fine. I will still pay your bills. You know that I don’t want you at that place, though.” He picked up her hands, broken and calloused from strenuous labor. “You deserve to have soft hands.”

  She shook her head. “What will I do with myself if I don’t work?”

  “You can stay on the phone with me all day,” he attempted pathetically.

  She giggled, then grew serious. “I love you, Chris Stryker. I can’t wait to join you in America.”

  “I will send for you very soon,” he promised.

  He stared after her as she walked away. She kept glancing over her shoulder to wave at him.

  The flight home filled Chris with sorrow. He already missed Chanda’s face and her sweet nature. Being in her presence consoled his misery and made him feel lighter than air. The old woman seated next to him tried to talk, but he couldn’t listen. He just wanted to think about Chanda.