Single Daddy To Go: A Holiday Single Dad Romance

by Adams, S. C.

  My friend takes one look at me in my dress from last night and gapes, tossing her long red mane.

  “Oh my god, Ally. Your date must have gone really well.”

  I feel my cheeks coloring as I remember the details of last night.

  “Yeah, it did,” I smile.

  “Want some Cheerios?” she offers. “Tell me all about it.”

  But instead, I shake my head.

  “No, I already ate. He has an assistant. When we got up in the morning, he called the guy and had him deliver food. He lives in this enormous penthouse uptown and it’s like a hotel. I mean, the size of it is incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  She laughs.

  “Enough about his apartment. What’s he like? How big is he?”

  I don’t even pretend to misunderstand. I can’t believe she’s acting like this.

  “Haley! Stop it.”

  She raises an eyebrow at me.

  “Come on, Ally. You’re Miss Innocent now? Come on, tell me everything. I know you got up to no good,” she teases.

  I blush again. Sometimes, I wish my cheeks wouldn’t give me away like this, but Rob seemed to think it was an appealing feature.

  “Well, we had a lot of fun,” I admit.

  But Haley won’t be put off.

  “A lot of fun!” she pshaws. “Please girl, you had more than a lot of fun. You had a mind-boggling, body-shaking, orgasm-inducing night of booty call! How was it? Tell me more!”

  I swear. I could wring Haley’s neck. It’s only 9 a.m. but I’m willing to commit a crime if it’ll get her off my back. But instead, I feed her some scraps otherwise the nagging will never stop.

  “Haley, he was incredible,” I admit. “He’s gorgeous, and intelligent, and funny.”

  “And is he a troll, or is he as good-looking as everyone says in real life?” she asks with one red eyebrow lifted.

  “He’s even better than his pictures,” I say firmly. “This man is a god. Six four at least, with really wide shoulders and long legs and long arms and …”

  “And?” she squeals, practically jumping out of her chair. “Is he big down there, too? Come on girl. Fess up to your best buddy.”

  I blush again, going practically scarlet, but the memory makes my insides go loose and warm all over again.

  “Yeah, he’s huge down there,” I admit. “It’s got me feeling sore this morning.”

  Haley literally jumps out of her chair then and gives me a bear hug, almost squeezing the air out of my lungs.

  “You go girl!” she shrieks. “That’s the way to end a dry spell. I know you haven’t hooked up with anyone in so long. This is gonna be the beginning of a hot and heavy season for you, Ally. This guy is just the first.”

  That comment startles me.

  “What do you mean, this guy is just the first?” I ask with some confusion. “I’m not seeing anyone else.”

  “I know you’re not,” she says with a comforting pat to my shoulder. “But that’s the point. All it takes is one guy to break the dry spell, and then boom! When it rains it pours. You’re going to be hooking up with so many guys from here on out,” she says gleefully.

  What? This is beyond bizarre. That’s not what I want at all and I stare at my best friend.

  “Haley, that’s not what I had in mind,” are my slow words. “I mean, I figured Mr. Lockhart and I would start dating, and we would be … well, you know.”

  Her eyes go wide.

  “You thought you’d start dating Rob Lockhart exclusively?” she asks slowly.

  My mind is growing dizzy.

  “Well, yes,” I stammer. “I mean, why not?”

  Haley shakes her head and clucks, looking at me with pitying eyes.

  “Well for one thing, he’s got millions of dollars and you have none,” she says. “I mean, look at where we live,” my friend says, gesturing to the peeling wallpaper and rickety breakfast table that we picked up off the street. “There’s no way you could keep up with him.”

  I stare at her.

  “But it doesn’t matter,” I say slowly. “I mean, it doesn’t take money to have a nice time together. We can always go to the movies or just get drinks. It doesn’t cost that much for a drink in Manhattan.”

  Haley shakes her head, casting me another pitying look.

  “Yeah, but Ally, what about more than that? I mean, you can’t watch movies all the time. He’ll want to attend charity events where the tickets go for ten thousand dollars, and socialize with his buddies at upscale resorts in the Hamptons. Trust me, it’s a whole other world. One that we can’t afford,” she says.

  I shake my head, still confused.

  “But none of that matters! He can’t expect me to buy a ticket to a charity that costs a thousand dollars. He knows I can’t afford it.”

  “Of course you can’t afford that,” Haley says quickly. “But it’s not the ticket, sweetheart. Of course, he’ll buy that for you. It’s everything else. The dress. The jewelry. The professional hair and make-up. You know, the girls who attend those events don’t just go to a salon to get their hair and make-up done. They pay for stylists to come to their homes, which costs a pretty penny. And it’s like that for everything,” my buddy continues. “You have to look and act a certain way with a man like Rob Lockhart, and sweetheart, you and I aren’t it,” she says with a sad smile. “You with your day care job and me with my freelancing? We’re not the type of woman he dates long-term. For hook-ups yes, but not more than once or twice.”

  Oh my god, is my friend right? She can’t be. I’ve been raised to believe that money is a means to the end. It’s not the ultimate goal. But Haley seems to be saying something else. She’s saying that these folks live in a world completely different from ours, where everything is gilded in money. You’re expected to look and act a certain way, and given my meager salary, I can’t even afford to show up, much less participate.

  Reading my mind, my friend nods again.

  “And remember,” she says in a low voice. “Robert Lockhart is known for having multiple women on his arm,” she reminds me. “Remember those photos we found? The paparazzi shots? He often had two women on his arm, and an army trailing behind him. This isn’t a ‘going steady’ type of guy, Ally. He’s the kind who likes to sample women, and you were the flavor of last night,” she says in a low voice.

  Her words cut me to the core but I try not to show it.

  “Thanks,” is my stiff reply. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I begin walking to my room, but Haley stops me with a hand on my arm.

  “I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, Ally,” she speaks. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, you know? You’re a really sensitive girl who believes the best about everyone and everything, and I don’t want you going into this with a blindfold over your eyes. He’s a billionaire, sweetheart, and all that Cinderella fantasy-stuff? That’s all it is. Fantasy. Guys like that don’t date girls like us. At least, not for the long-term.”

  I nod and turn my head away so that she can’t see my eyes fill with tears.

  “Thanks,” is my wooden reply as I step into my bedroom, softly shutting the door behind me. But once inside, I fall limply onto the mattress, and the tears slip hotly down my cheeks to dampen the bedspread. Is what Haley said accurate? Am I just a plaything for a billionaire? A one-night nothing?

  I don’t want to believe it, but now that I think over our interactions, there’s a kernel of truth to her words. Rob didn’t ask for my phone number of any contact information. He didn’t plan a second date, or ask me out again. He didn’t even drop me off himself. He had his assistant do it for him.

  Of course, none of these actions are definitive because they fall into a gray zone. After all, it’s true that I’ve never dated a wealthy man. My usual type is a penniless artist barely scraping by with his music, books, or screenplay. So maybe things with Mr. Lockhart are different. Maybe what Haley said is true, but in a different sense. The usual signals aren’t what I’m accusto
med to, and I have to get used to a new way of operating.

  With a tired swipe at my tears, I maneuver upright on the bedspread and take a deep breath. I should be elated from having a magical night with a handsome, charismatic billionaire who seems to like me. You can do this, the voice in my head encourages. The world always wants to pull you down, but that’s not you, Ally. You’re an optimist.

  I cast a glance at myself in the mirror. The glow of last night has faded, but I force myself to pull my shoulders straight and let out a glimmer of a smile. I want to see where this goes with Rob Lockhart, and even words won’t stop me.

  10

  Rob

  The Annual Fair is going to be a fucking nightmare. I can already tell. My driver pulls up to the curb and opens the door of the black town car for me.

  “Thanks Umberto,” I grunt. “I’ll probably only be here for an hour or so.”

  Umberto nods, tipping his black cap discreetly.

  “Of course, Sir. I’ll wait right around the corner. Just call when you need me.”

  I step out onto the sidewalk. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is totally not my scene. There are dozens of well-dressed parents streaming into the school wearing glittery gowns and penguin suits. This is a fucking day care event, for crying out loud. Why are they dressed to the nines?

  But that’s how it is in Manhattan, especially in the ritzier areas. People want to one-up one another and show off how much they have, even if it’s something as humble as a school benefit. Thus, the women dripping with diamonds, and men in formal tuxedos. Me? I’m in a black suit with a white shirt. Dressed-up but not over the top.

  My mood darkens even more when I catch sight of Meredith Petersen. She’s a woman who came onto me non-stop when I was single, and even more so when I was married. After news about my divorce went public, Meredith double downed and has been leaving me messages at work with lots of not-so-subtle hints about “catching up” and “grabbing a night cap together.” Bullshit. That woman wants my money and will stop at nothing to get it.

  Fortunately, tonight she’s hanging on to some old geezer’s arm and laughing merrily into his face. The woman must have found new prey. Good. I don’t want to fend off her advances in front of both my daughter and hers.

  I stalk towards the entrance of the school, which today is festooned in red and black balloons, the official school colors of Ladybug Tots. Fuck. What preschool has school colors? My eyes glance over the sight inside, which makes my heart drop. Adults, standing around with champagne glasses in their hands, laughing and chatting as children dressed in their party-clothes scamper about. This could be a bar mitzvah except the stakes are much higher: who’s going to outdo whom when it comes to donating the most money?

  I’m just about to head off to the bar they’ve set up over in one corner, when suddenly a vision appears. Oh shit! It’s Ally. She’s impossibly gorgeous in a pink gown that reveals without being too revealing. Her enormous bust is demure in a sweetheart neckline, and the dress hangs all the way to her ankles, showing off perfectly pedicured pink toenails in glittery sandals. She’s insanely beautiful and this fundraiser just got ten times better.

  “Hi Mr. Lockhart,” she murmurs, coming close. “Glad you could make it.”

  My eyes gleam at her.

  “I’m glad I made it too, now that you’re here.”

  She laughs merrily.

  “I’ve been here the whole day setting up,” she says. “It’s part of being a pre-school teacher, you know. Folding paper napkins and making sure we have enough red Solo cups.”

  That’s true. The school can’t afford the finer things, so a lot of the decorations are paper mache flowers mixed with children’s artwork.

  “It’s fine,” I growl, pulling her into my arms. “This place looks fantastic. You did an amazing job.”

  She blushes and grows pink under my gaze.

  “Maybe later you could reward me?” she asks teasingly, slowly running a finger up my chest and over my starched white dress shirt. “I’ve been working really hard on the Fair lately.”

  Oh shit. I’m ready to throw this woman over my shoulder and bolt to the car. I’m that ready to take her. But at that moment, my darling daughter skips up.

  “Hi Miss Summers,” she giggles. “Hi Daddy. What are you doing?”

  I realize this the perfect opportunity to introduce Katie to the new dynamic between me and her teacher.

  “Daddy is dating someone, and that someone is Miss Summers. Remember how I told you Katie? Daddy sometimes goes out with other ladies, and in this particular case, it’s Miss Summers.”

  Katie’s face darkens for a moment.

  “Will you still have time for me?” she asks in a careful voice. Her tone almost breaks my heart and I bend down to gather my daughter in my arms.

  “Of course, sweetheart. You’ll always be my number one, no matter what happens,” I say comfortingly. “You’ve always been my number one.”

  Her mood immediately shifts.

  “Oh good!” she calls, skipping away. “You have fun then! I see Lizzie over there, I’m going to go say hi!”

  I stand back up, my eyes still following the bouncing ringlets of my daughter’s blonde curls. She’s absolutely adorable and means the world to me. But I’m a man with needs, and nobody said I had to be a monk just because I’m a father. In fact, if anything, that need’s been raging even more ever since I met Ally.

  The beautiful day care provider pulls me back to the present with the tinkle of her laugh.

  “I didn’t know you were going to tell your daughter about us,” she says carelessly. But there’s a tone of caution to her voice. “Didn’t we just start dating? It seems a little soon, doesn’t it?”

  I know where this is coming from. My mom had so many boyfriends when I was growing up, and it was often too soon, too fast. Sometimes I met a dude, and then he’d be gone by the next week. I got whiplash watching them go in and out the revolving door. So I look seriously into her big brown eyes.

  “Ally, I know this is fast, but it feels right. I’ve learned in a long business career that when the time is right, you jump at the opportunity because it might never come again.”

  Ally stares at me like I’m crazy.

  “But still,” she says slowly. “We only went on one date. And this is the Annual Fair, which is a semi-public event. Why didn’t you wait until we had some privacy?”

  Good point, but I’ve been a CEO a long time. I know how to answer questions without quite answering questions.

  “Hey, let’s look at the bigger picture. So we’re in public. And you’re right, you’re my date. But if everyone can already see us, then why keep it from Katie? Besides, children are smart. Aren’t you the one who told me that? We can’t hide it from her, so we might as well come right out and say it.”

  Her expression is thoughtful.

  “You’re right,” she says. “I did say that kids are intelligent, and your daughter is one of the most intelligent little girls I’ve ever met. I guess … well, I’m not sure what I thought,” she confesses. “I guess I could have figured that you would introduce me to Katie that way, but … well, I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”

  I smile.

  “No worries, sweetheart. It’s fine. To be honest, I didn’t exactly have a game plan myself. It just felt right to tell my daughter, and when it feels right, it feels right,” I say.

  “But still,” she says softly, cheeks tingeing a slight pink. “It’s moving really fast. You have to admit that.”

  I don’t hesitate this time. I pull her into my arms again, that curvy form driving me nuts as it presses up against my bulk.

  “Fast is good,” I growl into her ear. “Fast is real fucking good, and that’s how I move all the time, sweetheart. So you better learn sooner rather than later.”

  I can tell she’s scandalized but at the same time, hugely turned on. Her breasts are heaving, the tips poking against my hard chest as she looks deep into my eyes. I can almost smel
l the musky scent of her cunt and the realization that there’s a hungry pussy within inches of my dick makes him go hard at once. Oh shit. I pull my suit jacket forwards to hide the bulge, but not before Ally catches sight of it.

  “Mr. Lockhart!” she gasps, scandalized. “We’re at school!” But I know she loves it too.

  “Shhh, sweetheart,” I rumble. “Just give me a minute. You can’t look like that and expect my body not to react.”

  Heat floods her face, staining that beautiful décolletage a slight pink. I desperately want to bury my face in her boobs right now and to nuzzle the crevice in between, but it’s not right. We’re around children, for crying out loud. I can’t go all caveman on her right here, in her place of employment.

  Fortunately, I’m saved by a middle-aged woman standing at the front of the room merrily tapping the side of a vase with a fork.

  “Helloooo!” she cries out with a smile. “Hello, and welcome to Ladybug Tots’ Annual Fair! I’m Karen Gillen, principal of this esteemed establishment, and I want to thank you personally for taking time out of your busy schedule to attend this fundraiser. But before I begin, let me thank the generous donors we have in the crowd today.”

  Oh fuck. The woman puts on her reading glasses and fumbles in her suit pocket for a moment before withdrawing a piece of paper. She unfolds it, clears her throat, and begins to read.

  “Well, let’s start with the A’s,” she begins merrily. “Mr. and Mrs. Joel Adams. Mr. and Mrs. Kirby Appleby. Doctor and Mrs ….”

  My eyes almost glaze over. It seems that we’re going to go through an entire half hour listening to this woman chant names as if she were reading prayers. Oh shit. Only the knowledge that my beautiful girl is next to me keeps me on my toes. Stealthily, I reach over and put an arm around her waist, drawing that curvy form close to mine. Ally raises brown eyes to me in shock, but then melts against my side with a smile. Good. I’m glad she’s just as bored as I am, although feeling that voluptuous form against mine is starting to get distracting. Down boy, the voice in my head speaks. Get yourself together. It’s right. This is a school, for crying out loud, and I can’t be a lech in public in front of these people.