My Secret Daddy (Daddy Knows Best Book 1)

by Kelly Myers

  At least William had stopped calling. He had accepted that we just weren’t meant to be. That was a good thing, despite how my heart sank a little every time I glanced at my phone and saw no new notifications from him.

  “I think I’m just gonna wear this black dress I got on sale a while ago,” I said.

  It was satin and hugged my curves, just a little. I felt good when I tried it on, but I had never had an occasion to wear it out. The dress still had its tags on. I wondered if Nate Baxter was going to be able to tell right away that I was a completely boring loser, or if it would take him until dessert to figure it out.

  “Oh, a little black dress on the first date, so classic,” Bridget said.

  I regarded Bridget with her sparkling eyes and mischievous grin. I had witnessed this woman hike miles to find the perfect vantage point to photograph autumn foliage. I had seen her wrestle pigs out of her vegetable patch. She was not an ordinary woman. And yet just like every other female I had known, something about a date turned her into a giggly mess.

  “So, how did you meet?” she asked.

  “Oh, my brother set us up,” I said. “I’ve never met him before.”

  “Well, have you checked out his Facebook?” Bridget asked.

  At my blank stare, her jaw dropped.

  “You’re telling me you haven’t stalked the shit out of him?” she asked.

  I shrugged.

  “Isn’t it more romantic to just get to know him outside of all that?” I said.

  Bridget’s raised eyebrows implied that she had serious doubts, but she let it go.

  “Well, have a great time,” she said. “I guess this is why you’ve been a bit spacey all week.”

  She threw me a wink and playfully nudged my shoulder.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” I said.

  I headed into the chicken coop and hid my face by inspecting a nest.

  It was funny; when I was a virgin, I felt like I was carrying a sign that read “I have never had sex.” I felt like the word “prude” was written on my forehead.

  I thought everyone would be able to tell when I had sex. I thought the word “prude” on my forehead would be erased and replaced with “slut.”

  Apparently, the only thing Bridget had noticed was that I was “spacey.”

  How could something that figured so large to me not show at all to the outside world?

  How could an event that had felt so momentous not be written all over my body?

  I desperately wanted to talk about this with someone, but I had few options. It wasn’t professional to discuss it with Bridget, no matter how casual a boss she might be. And my mother would be outraged that I had sex. She had strict beliefs.

  As for my friends, like Grace, I was nervous about how they would react. I could picture Grace saying how “hot” that it was with an older guy. Then she would probably make me a Tinder profile and try to get me to sleep around. Grace was always talking about “sexploration”.

  The worst part was, the only person I really wanted to talk to was William. He had a way of putting me at ease. He would listen.

  Except our delicate friendship or whatever it had been was ruined. I had taken part in its demise.

  I didn’t know if I would ever forgive myself for that.

  A few hours later, I was on the train to New York, feeling a little ridiculous in my satin dress. The wine bar Nate had texted me the address of was pretty fancy though, and I didn’t want to look like a total country bumpkin.

  I had even put some effort into my hair and makeup. I had twisted my hair into a relaxed bun and pulled some tendrils loose. I had brushed some shimmery eyeshadow on my lids and cheeks. I had then applied dark red lipstick that I thought, in the privacy of my room, made me look mysterious and gorgeous.

  I had wiped it off before leaving the house. I couldn’t wear lipstick that dramatic on the train.

  I started to get nervous as the train pulled into Grand Central Station.

  It had been a while since I had gone on a date. And even then, the only guys I had dated had been in college. It was different when you could talk about your classes and your major.

  What was I supposed to talk about with an adult male? He was older, and I would probably seem so unsophisticated.

  William is older, I thought to myself. He didn’t think you were unsophisticated.

  I shook that thought from my head. I couldn’t go into this date while daydreaming about William. It wasn’t fair to Nate.

  Fifteen minutes later, I arrived at the wine bar.

  Ten minutes later, Nate showed up. He was ten minutes late to our first date. I understood that maybe the subway had been late or traffic had been bad, but also a big powerful investment banker should be able to make a seven o’clock dinner reservation.

  He didn’t even apologize.

  “Olivia,” he said. “Great to meet you.”

  He flashed his eyes up and down my body. It was quick, but I felt it. And I definitely felt his wolfish grin.

  I wasn’t flattered. He didn’t look at my body the way William had, as if he was admiring me. He looked at me like I was a prize to be shown off to his buddy.

  We sat down at a table, and Nate immediately wanted to order the most expensive bottle of wine. I told him I preferred white, but the most expensive bottle was red, so Merlot it was.

  The date only went downhill from there.

  Nate was visibly uninterested when I told him where I worked, and then he talked about his job and all its perks (first-class plane tickets when he traveled, nice hotel rooms, steak dinners, all on the company dollar) for fifteen minutes.

  William probably flew first-class, but he would never brag about it.

  When at last Nate paused, I decided to try and contribute.

  “I’ve always wanted to travel abroad more,” I said. “But then, even where I’m working in Connecticut, the landscape is so beautiful, there’s a lot to explore.”

  “For sure,” Nate said. “I mean, I think it’s adorable that you have this nature hobby, it’s very cool.”

  I blinked. He thought I was adorable. He thought I had a hobby.

  I gripped my fork as tight as I could as I speared a crouton.

  Nate smiled and chewed with his mouth open.

  For the rest of the first course, he talked about his car, and he talked about his sweet condo, and he talked about his annoying parents out in the suburbs.

  I nodded along and stared in bewilderment as I realized that he actually thought this date was going well. I could tell by the way he leaned forward and glanced down the top of my dress that he truly believed he was getting laid at the end of this.

  I took a large gulp of wine and willed the entrées to arrive already. I wanted to gobble my food down, and then say, “so sorry, I’ve got to catch the train back” and bolt.

  I was even planning to throw some cash down on the table so he could not say that he paid for the meal so I owed him.

  Were all men like this? Was this what I was going to have to sift through if I wanted to find a life partner?

  William wasn’t like this. William had definitely never behaved this way. But William wasn’t going to be my life partner.

  I sighed and stared at the white tablecloth. Finding someone to love was going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  That didn’t mean I had to give up though. I just had to adapt my techniques.

  First of all, no more asking Richard for dates. I really should have seen this coming, but I’d been desperate to spring into action and forget about William as soon as possible.

  I would have to use sources besides my unreliable half-brother.

  I hated the idea of getting on a dating app, especially since I still had a flip phone. I supposed I could buy a smartphone, although it seemed silly to buy a smartphone just to find a connection. Surely I could do it the old-fashioned way?

  I ran through the places in my daily life where I could possibly meet someone. I might have to co
nsult Bridget. She was good at stuff like that.

  Ok. Richard, out. Bridget, in. That was a good first step.

  “Liv?”

  I was startled from my thoughts by Nate. Why had he started calling me Liv? We had just met.

  “Sorry, what?” I mumbled.

  “I was wondering if you wanted another glass?” he asked.

  I saw he was already holding the bottle over my half-empty glass. I didn’t like him pressuring me to drink at all. I narrowed my eyes slightly and shook my head.

  “No, thank you,” I said.

  “Oh, come on, I got the whole bottle,” he said.

  I almost blurted out that he could finish it himself then, but I held my tongue. My patience was wearing thin.

  Thankfully, our entrées arrived just then.

  I wasn’t usually a fast eater, but I prepared myself to scarf down the meal. Maybe if I ate fast enough, Nate would be turned off by my big appetite. He seemed like the type of guy to expect women to eat like birds.

  I thought longingly about the dinners I had shared with William. He took me out twice during the summer internship. it was never awkward or inappropriate. He was just being a mentor. We had gone to nice but not over-the-top restaurants. He had never boasted or made me feel uncomfortable. We just talked and enjoyed our meals. And at the end he had paid, not in an ostentatious way, just in a nice way.

  My ravioli was delicious, but my stomach felt a little queasy as I dug in.

  Because I knew that I was always going to compare every man to William Hart.

  Chapter Twelve

  William

  The phone call with Olivia had been disheartening, that was for certain. But it had not been the end. She could think it was over. I would let her harbor that belief for the day. Then I would correct her misunderstanding.

  I had messed up on the phone call, that was clear. It was a tad embarrassing really. After making a lucrative living off of my verbal powers of persuasion, I had fumbled my words.

  I knew I should not have lied to her, but I should have let her know how much I cared. That I didn’t know what the future held, but that didn’t mean it held nothing.

  It wasn’t exactly the level of commitment Olivia wanted, but it was what I had.

  I left the office at three and headed straight to the garage with my car.

  There was a bit of traffic heading out of the city, but soon I was racing along the highway, the city sidewalks giving way to bursts of greenery.

  My adrenaline picked up the closer I got to Fairweather Farm. This was what I should have done the minute I woke up and found her gone. I needed to see her, to smell her, to watch her facial expressions.

  Soon I would be with her. Soon everything would be as it should.

  I didn’t know the future, but I knew that Olivia needed to be in my arms and soon.

  Fairweather Farm looked gorgeous in the evening light. I pulled into the drive just at six, and since it was summer, it was still bright out. But the sun was low in the sky and casting a dusky glow over everything.

  Looking around, I could imagine Olivia here. The green fields and rustic barns were quiet and peaceful and beautiful.

  I walked up to the first barn off the drive since it looked like the office of sorts.

  I stepped into a room that had rows of farming equipment on shelving and a big picnic table strewn with papers and planting seed samples. A middle-aged woman was sitting. She glanced up from the notes she was taking.

  “You lost?” she asked.

  I took a breath. I had to play it cool here. I didn’t want Olivia’s co-workers gossiping about her.

  “I’m looking for Olivia Francis,” I said. “I’m a family friend.”

  Here was a moment my age worked to my advantage. I easily looked like I could be a friendly uncle or an old friend of her mother’s. Nothing sordid here, just an acquaintance stopping by.

  The woman raised her eyebrows at me.

  “She’s not here,” she said. “Headed down to the city for a big date.”

  My stomach lurched. What did she mean by “big date”? Maybe it was more farm business.

  “Oh,” I said as casually as I could.

  The woman gave me a sharp look. She hardly seemed convinced.

  “Apparently her brother set them up,” she said. “Or half-brother, I guess?”

  She gave me one last assessing glance before shrugging.

  “Either way, kind of a weird way to date,” she said.

  “Right,” I said. “Well, thank you.”

  The woman was making me nervous.

  I turned to go, my mind whirring. I needed to find out who this date was. I was going to have to call Richard. No, he would never give me an answer, not if I straight-up asked him who Olivia was dating. The thought of her out with someone else made my blood boil. It was probably some younger version of Richard, all swagger and seduction, trying to get lucky with the beautiful twenty-two-year-old.

  I could call Richard and be subtle. Maybe ask him if Olivia was interested in another internship and somehow get him to mention the date.

  Or I could call Olivia. Ring her over and over until she answered.

  No, that was insane.

  “Hey.”

  I turned back at the doorway to look at the woman. Her lips were pressed together in a small smile, and her head was cocked. She was seeing too much, I knew it.

  “Lucio’s Wine Bar,” the woman said. “I made Olivia tell me where they were going – I like to keep tabs on the hot places in the city.”

  “Right,” I said, keeping my voice cool as a cucumber. “Good to know.”

  I moved as fast as I could without sprinting to my car.

  Once I was in the driver’s seat, I typed the name of the wine bar into my Google maps. I was going to go there right now. I knew it was crazy, and I knew it was borderline stalkerish, but there was no other choice for me. This was what I had to do.

  My anger only grew as I hit the road. Olivia was mine. She belonged to me, not to some random asshole her idiot brother found for her.

  God, the schmuck was probably boring her to tears with stories about his accomplishments as an investment banker. He was likely plying her with wine and sneaking glances at her chest, thinking he was gonna get lucky.

  He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t even deserve to look at her. I was going to rescue her. I was going to get her away from this faceless fool, and then I would tell her how much I needed her.

  What was Richard playing at, anyway, trying to sell his little sister off to the highest bidder? He probably thought he knew what was best for her. He probably envisioned her being the perfect wife to a man who cheated on her and expected her to cook meals and keep his house clean.

  Olivia was made for so much more than that. And if it ever did come down to a bidding war, I would be the one to make the highest bid, and that was final.

  I pushed my car to go faster, well over the speed limit. I didn’t know when the date had started. If they got full meals, they would still be at the wine bar, but if they opted just for drinks, they might have left.

  And if they left, I would have no idea where they went.

  Olivia wouldn’t have gone home with a guy she just met. She wasn’t like that. I knew she wasn’t.

  But she might have gone to another restaurant.

  Or he might have tricked her somehow. Told her they were going to take a walk, and then just took her to his apartment.

  Olivia wasn’t stupid though. She may have been a virgin until recently, but she would know when to run. She would know how to get out of a situation she didn’t want to be in.

  I hoped so anyway.

  I didn’t dare contemplate the possibility that the man she was on a date with might manipulate the situation. It was horrific, the amount of decent-looking men, walking around in suits, who thought it was acceptable to slip something into a date’s drink while she was in the bathroom.

  By the time I entered the borough of Ma
nhattan, I was holding my steering wheel in a death grip. If she wasn’t at that wine bar, I was going to have to call Richard. Or Olivia. Although Olivia probably wouldn’t pick up.

  My phone beeped and told me I was three minutes away.

  Perfect.

  Three minutes until I went into that restaurant and took back what was mine.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Olivia

  I almost spit out my drink when I saw William Hart stalk into the wine bar.

  My chair was facing the entrance, so I saw him brush right past the hostess and scan the room.

  Nate, totally oblivious, blabbered on about his trip to Cabo with “the boys”.

  What on earth was William doing here? This was the worst possible time to run into him. I slouched in my chair even though it was inevitable that he would see me.

  For a split second, I considered the possibility that he was here for a date. With another woman. Rage, hot and heavy, coursed through my blood. How dare he? How dare he think he could just shrug me off and go find another, even if that was exactly what I was doing?

  Then William locked his eyes on me. And like a panther who had just spotted his prey, he started to advance across the room.

  Oh. He was here for me.

  I should have been mad. I should have felt violated. I should have been offended that he thought he could just interrupt my date.

  But I wasn’t mad. I was thrilled. I felt like a girl in a story who was being rescued from a fire-breathing dragon by her noble knight. Not that Nate was a dragon. More of a troll.

  I couldn’t speak, only watch, as William came to a smooth stop.

  He glowered down at Nate, who had at last ceased his prattle and looked up.

  “Oh, William, hi!” Nate said.

  How notorious was William in New York City? Nate was acting like he had just run into his personal hero. As if Nate could ever come close to being the man William was.

  “Liv,” Nate said, turning to me. “This is William Hart, another Yale alum.”

  He gave me a boastful smile and turned back to William.