Single Daddy To Go: A Holiday Single Dad Romance

by Adams, S. C.

  Friday finally rolls around. I’m half hoping to see Rob at Ladybug Tots, but he sends his assistant to pick up Katie, meaning I’ll have a little time to go home first to get ready before meeting him at the bar. I take the subway home to the postage stamp apartment in Brooklyn that I share with my roommate Haley.

  I slip off my grubby work clothes, stained as usual with an assortment of snack foods and marker marks. I so seldom get a chance to get out of kiddie mode. Stepping into the shower, I turn the water on and let it run over my skin, luxuriating in the warm stream. I take this moment to myself, focused on nothing except making myself beautiful.

  I don’t always feel good about my body. I’m not the sort of girl you see in movies or on the cover of magazines. In fact, I’m not the sort of girl that most men notice. But Rob wanted to take me out so bad that he offered me a lawyer if I get in trouble with my work. I guess he must find me sexy, and who am I to question it? The thought of his attention makes me feel so much more alive, so much more comfortable with my curvy body.

  I lather up my pink shower puff and soap up, rubbing the foam all over my curves. I shave my legs, slowly and carefully so I won’t get razor burn. It’s been a while since I’ve bothered, to be honest. Running my hands over my body, I’m shocked by the sensuality of my skin. The smoothness of my newly shorn legs feels amazing and a tingle runs through my body.

  I pause with the razor in my hand, debating whether to shave my lower lips. Am I expecting the date to go that well? I feel nervous, worried that thinking about it at all makes me a crazy slut, but I push past the feeling. My legs feel really good, and I want this to feel really good too. Better safe than sorry, right? I lather up my pussy and remove the hair, gently, slowly, taking care to do it just right.

  Next I wash my curls, soaping them up with my favorite shampoo that smells like kiwifruit and is specially designed for curly hair. Stepping out of the shower, I take care not to get water everywhere while I blow dry my curls, making sure they look pretty instead of crazy. My hair is a lot of work, but it’s one of my favorite features. I love having wavy hair, even though it can be hard to style sometimes.

  I’m still in the bathroom when my roommate comes home. I hear the door open and the sound of Haley’s feet clomping into the front room that we share. I finish washing up and grab a towel, wrapping it around my body. It can barely contain my tits, and I guess I can barely contain my excitement, because when Haley sees me she says, “Did you finally win the lotto or something? You look so happy.”

  I laugh. “That’s my mom that plays the lotto, silly, not me. I am happy, though. Guess what?”

  Haley sticks out her tongue.

  “What?”

  “I have a date tonight!” I beam.

  Her eyes go wide.

  “You go, girl!” Haley says. “You have to tell me all about him.”

  “Ok, ok. But I also need to get out of this towel and into something sexy,” I banter back.

  “I’ll help you pick something out,” she says immediately. Damn. I’m not sure I really want her to choose my clothes, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings, so I let her follow me into my bedroom. She sits on my bed while I look through my closet for the perfect outfit.

  Haley is a willowy redhead with some tattoos. She has three butterflies on her left foot and a sleeve devoted to forest animals on her right arm. She and I have been friends since college and roommates since graduation. I share pretty much everything with her. She has a job as a dog walker and makes jewelry on the side. She’s an awesome girl with upbeat energy, even if she can be a little bit too much at times. I love her like a sister.

  With vigor, I throw open my closet door. I don’t have that many good dresses. I don’t want to wear the blue one I wore on my last date, because it’s embedded with bad memories. I look at my clothes wistfully, wishing I’d had time to go shopping. Rob is always so well-dressed in his thousand dollar suits and immaculate wing-tips. By contrast, I mostly hang out with children so I’m not an especially fashion-forward person.

  “So, who’s the guy?” Haley presses me, dangling her feet off the edge of my bed.

  I sigh, sad about the state of my wardrobe but over the moon about the guy I’m about to see.

  “His name is Rob. He’s one of the dads from daycare.”

  “Ooh, scandalous!” Haley teases.

  “It’s not. There’s no rule about going out with parents. I checked.” I don’t tell her about the part where he offered me free legal representation, because then it really will seem scandalous.

  I pick through my dresses and pull out a a simple black number. It’s pretty basic, but at least it fits. It has a high neck, cap sleeves, and a flared skirt. I wish I had something sexier, but beggars can’t be choosers. As some consolation, the demure outfit means I won’t look like I’m trying too hard.

  “What does he look like?” Haley keeps going, as I drop the towel and start pulling on the dress.

  My mind flashes the image of Rob’s handsome face. I stifle a sound of pleasure.

  “Oh, Haley. He’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met.”

  “Yeah? Tell me all about him.”

  I take a deep breath and let it out.

  “He has black hair and these blue eyes that seem like they can see right through to your soul. He’s really tall, like maybe six four with the body of an athlete. He’s like something out of a daydream, Haley. I’m so excited.”

  Her eyes go wide as I get the dress on, wiggling a bit to get it over my wide hips.

  “Do you have a picture?” Haley asks.

  I shake my head, trying to focus on getting ready. I feel like I’m sure to forget something important with all these questions. Still, I like that my roommate cares about my life.

  “Um, his name is Rob Lockhart. Maybe you can find his Facebook profile or something.”

  I zip up the dress and look at myself in the mirror. It’s nothing crazy, but I look sweet. I pick up my brushes to start on my makeup when Haley squeals so hard I drop a cosmetic brush in shock.

  “What?” I ask, turning towards her. “Is everything okay?”

  My friend’s eyes are fixed on the screen, eating it up greedily.

  “Is this Rob Lockhart?” Haley turns her phone towards me. The image on the cell is a headshot of Rob in three quarters profile. He looks a bit younger in the picture, but it’s definitely the same guy.

  I nod, smiling at how handsome he is.

  “Oh my god, Ally. Way to bury the lede. One of the dads from daycare, my butt. Why didn’t you mention that part where he’s the billionaire CEO of Lockhart Industries?”

  What? My heart skips a beat. I don’t even know what to say. I just stand there, unsure how to process this information.

  “Um, I didn’t know that part,” I mumble eventually, when I can make my mouth work again.

  Holy shit, is this true? I knew Rob was well off, because he wears business suits and because pretty much all of the parents at Ladybug are doing well. Its location on the ritzy Upper West Side makes that par for the course. But I had no idea he was a billionaire.

  “Oh my god, Ally, he’s on the Forbes World Billionaires list. How on Earth did you score this one?” Her voice is filled with bemused incredulity. Haley keeps scrolling her phone, learning more about Rob. I’m not the sort of girl who googles a date. I guess I’m old fashioned. I just like to get to know people on a personal level.

  I shrug, in disbelief myself. “His daughter attends the day care I work at. I’ve met him a few times when he’s come to pick her up. He seems really nice. I don’t know, Haley. He asked me out. I actually tried pretty hard to say no, because I was worried about what it would look like if I went out with one of the dads, but he’s really charming and very persuasive. I swear, I had no idea.”

  “Maybe that’s why he likes you,” she says with a thoughtful look. “Because you’re the sort of girl who agrees to a date with a ridiculously rich guy and doesn’t even notice that he’s rich
.”

  “Maybe,” I say, going back to the mirror to do my makeup. I was always going to put my best effort in, but now I know I have to turn it up a notch.

  “Quite the man about town,” Haley says, as she keeps looking at pictures on her phone.

  I want to ignore her and focus on what I’m doing, but the curiosity is too much for me.

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugs.

  “Goes to a lot of events. Gets his photo taken a lot.”

  I grab the phone and look. She’s right. He does go to a lot of events and gets his photo taken a lot. The part she didn’t mention was that he does so with lots of different beautiful women.

  I scroll the photos, my heart sinking. Rob is in a tuxedo in a lot of the snaps and looks absolutely stunning. Unfortunately, so do the women on his arm. They’re almost all tall and blonde, and resemble supermodels. They’re wearing high fashion dresses that probably cost more than a year of my salary, and they’re decked out in diamonds and pearls.

  I hand the phone back, feeling dejected.

  “Wow. Why would he even bother with me? These women are like perfect beauty queens while I’m just some average girl. Here he is with all these tall blondes, whereas I’m a pumpkin by comparison.”

  Haley shakes her head.

  “No, you’re awesome. And besides, maybe he doesn’t want a supermodel. Maybe he wants someone down to Earth and kind. Beauty fades right? It’s what’s on the inside that counts. Plus, just because you’re curvy and short doesn’t mean you’re not desirable.”

  There’s a lump in my throat. I try to swallow it down, but it remains.

  “People say that but-”

  “No!” Haley cuts me off. “It’s real. Don’t get down on yourself. He asked you out, right?”

  I think back to the moment, replaying in my mind.

  “Yes. He asked me out.”

  She shrugs.

  “So he wants to go out with you. You were so excited before I googled him. Just pretend it didn’t happen if you need to.”

  I shoot her a wobbly smile. I go back over to the mirror and look at myself. I tell myself that Haley is right. I remind myself that I’m beautiful on the inside and the outside, and just as good as any supermodel. I square my shoulders, taking a deep breath in before letting it out.

  I’m going on this date. What’s the worst that could happen? I suppose he could stand me up, but I’ve been there before. I can weather that. If it goes bad, nothing’s lost but some time I would otherwise have spent sitting at home. Okay, it’ll be awkward at school pick-ups, but I can handle it. And if it goes well, who knows? I shore up my confidence. I’m going to be ok, no matter what.

  I put the finishing touches on my makeup and straighten out my hair. I add a simple necklace with a shell that my mother gave me after a trip to Tasmania. I smile at myself. I feel good, and I think I look good, or at least, as good as I’m going to get. I slip on a pair of low black heels and give Haley a hug.

  “Wish me luck,” I say.

  “It’ll be great,” she says reassuringly, flashing me an encouraging smile. “I probably won’t see you tonight, but I’ll see you in the morning. Good luck.”

  “Stop it,” I scold. “We’re just going out for a couple of drinks. What are you implying?”

  “Sure, okay,” she says with a wink. “Have fun girl. You only live once.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Goodnight, Haley,” I say.

  I take another deep breath and step out in the night, making my way to the subway. I feel really nervous, like some piece of me wants to turn back, but it’s too late. The wheels are already in motion. This whole thing is so crazy, but it doesn’t matter. I’m ready for whatever the night brings me, good or bad. Whatever happens, I’ll at least be able to say that I went on a date with a billionaire. If I get really lucky, it’ll be a good date with a billionaire, but even if it’s bad, I’ll be able to say I was brave enough to do it. And that’s what’s important.

  6

  Ally

  It takes me an hour and half on the subway to get to Bar Virage. I ride in silence, reading the subway ads over and over again while looking at bullshit on my phone and trying not to stress out about my date. I’d never really understood the expression “butterflies in my stomach” but now I do. It feels like a whole swarm of them is fluttering around in there.

  I remind myself of my resolve to go through with the date, good or bad. I try to calm the slight uneasiness in my belly. I make myself remember how much I liked talking to Rob at the day care, before he asked me out. I force myself to stay present and not spin out stories about what could possibly happen tonight. It’s not in my control. Whatever will be will be.

  The venue is a short walk from the 96nd Street stop off the 6 train. The last time I ventured anywhere near this far uptown, it was to go the Met Museum. The night air is crisp as I walk past rows and rows of tall brick buildings with their deep red awnings and well-dressed doormen waiting in the foyer. I feel out of my element before I even step inside the bar.

  The bar itself doubles down on the fish out of water theme. It’s so fancy, I feel like I shouldn’t even be here. My friends and I usually hang out at a couple of dive bars in Brooklyn, which are homey places where the bartenders know us and the drinks are cheap. I’m pretty good at pool and a whiz at darts. I always have a good time when I go out, but the places I go out are like a totally different universe from Bar Virage.

  The lighting is dim, emanating from some overhead fixtures and wall sconces that look like pieces of modern art worthy of a museum. Red leather banquettes line the walls, occupied by patrons wearing fine suits and even finer evening gowns. The bar is a long piece of polished oak. I can see myself reflected in its sheen, my face distorted by the grain of the wood.

  With trembling legs, I sit down on an empty bar stool, entwining my feet in the silver metal as I settle onto the red leather seat. The bartenders are dressed in fancy vests and ties, and doing bustling business. I glance at a drink menu laid out on the polished oak surface.

  Wow. I’ve never seen a thirty dollar price tag on a cocktail before. To its credit, the bar seems to have gone to a lot of trouble to put together some seriously fancy drinks, featuring top shelf artisanal liquors and fresh ingredients, but still. Thirty bucks is a lot of money. I hope that I don’t look as shocked as I feel.

  I just sit there until one of the bartenders notices me. If I wasn’t waiting for Rob Lockhart to arrive, I’d think of the server as tall, but he’s got nothing on Rob. Anyway, he’s a tallish guy with a mustache and slicked back brown hair, expertly put together. “What can I do you for?” he asks me, his face open and friendly.

  “Um,” I say, tentatively, feeling so out of place. “I’ll have a seltzer water.”

  He nods. “Coming right up.” He doesn’t seem to notice that I don’t belong, so I relax a little bit.

  “Are you sure that’s all you want?” a deep voice interrupts. It sends a shiver down my spine. I want to purr like a kitten, but I hold it in.

  “Hello, Rob,” I murmur, turning to meet his piercing gaze.

  He looks even more amazing than he usually does. He’s wearing a perfectly cut suit that shows off how athletic his body is, the strong bulge of muscle just visible beneath the tailored sleeves of his fine jacket. He cuts an imposing figure as he slides on the stool next to mine.

  I’m so attracted to this man. I feel my insides turning to jelly. In fact, I might just melt into a puddle at his feet and call it a night. I’ve never felt like this before, and don’t really know how to handle it.

  “Um,” I stammer, feeling like an idiot. “I like seltzer water?”

  He raises one eyebrow. The gesture makes his face even more commanding yet amused at once, making my situation even worse. “You don’t drink?”

  “Um, I do, I just...” I stop. What am I going say? I just can’t afford these drinks? He’s on the Forbes World Billionaires list. Thirty dollars is
literally nothing to him.

  “Will you allow me to buy you a drink?” he asks courteously, his eyes smoldering.

  I nod, blushing, feeling awkward all over. “Yes, thank you. But I don’t know what to order. When my friends and I go out, I usually stick to beer.”

  It amuses him. He lifts the corner of his mouth, only on the left side. “They do serve beer here, but I feel that you’d be making a mistake not sampling the cocktails. They are very special.”

  “Um, okay. Well then, what do you recommend?”

  A black brow lifts again.

  “Do you like sweet drinks or hard ones?”

  The way he says it is like a double entendre, and I blush furiously again.

  “Sweet, I guess?” is my hapless stammer. The man grins.

  “Try the Paloma,” he says. “It’s one of the best things on the menu, made with fresh organic grapefruit juice.”

  I would take whatever he offered me, even if it were diet soda, which I absolutely hate. “Sounds good,” I say with what I hope is a cheery smile.

  Rob smiles mysteriously before calling the bartender back over, and orders me the Paloma and himself a Vesper Martini.

  “What makes it a Vesper?” I ask him.

  “You’re not too young to have seen a James Bond film, are you?” he asks me.

  “No,” I say, incredulous. “I’m not a child. I saw Spectre and Skyfall! Plus a couple movies with Pierce Brosnan.”

  He makes a noise in his throat. “If you haven’t seen Sean Connery as Bond, you haven’t seen Bond. But that’s not the point. In the books, the writer Ian Fleming provides a recipe for Bond’s favorite martini. It’s not just that ‘shaken not stirred’ gibberish. The drink is a mix of gin and vodka with lillet vermouth and garnished with a lemon peel instead of an olive.”

  You learn something new every day. Who knew?