DADDY ISSUES: A SINGLE DAD ROMANCE

by Morris, Liv

  A week after I met Peaches, a petite young woman with black hair stood in line at the same coffee shop in my building. I wasn’t stalking the place or anything. I’d just decided to get my own coffee for a while, mingle with others.

  When the woman turned around, brown eyes and olive skin peered back at me. She was pretty but didn’t have the glow about her face or animated spark in her eyes like my Peaches. I wondered if anyone did. And I needed to remember just the memory of her was mine to keep. I’d let her walk away.

  After sending Jared to, hopefully, go buy some jeans, I spent a few hours outlining a potential book I wanted to write. I stashed my notebook in my desk drawer and locked it, hiding it away. Old habits died hard.

  When I was thirteen, my father caught me writing in a journal. He asked what I was doing, and I stupidly told him I was going to write a book. He was quiet for a minute—way too long for his short fuse—so I’d waited for his wrath. He hadn’t disappointed either. He’d snatched my work and made me follow him to the nearest fireplace. I’d tried not to show how hurt I was as he burned the papers to ash, but tears began to fall down my cheeks. He’d laughed at me for being so weak, told me to forget about writing books and focus on my destiny of taking over the company. He had railed on about my responsibilities to the business my mother’s family had created, dropping the one word that would make me pause: my mother. I would never do anything to harm her.

  But my father was wrong. I could do both.

  I left my office and the memories behind me and started to get ready for the evening. I set my phone down on my nightstand to charge, but before I walked away, it buzzed with an incoming text.

  Unknown: Is this Lucas?

  Me: I don’t know. Who’s this?

  Unknown: Coco. Remember me?

  How could I forget?

  9

  Lucas

  I waited before answering, trying to decide whether I should take the bait and reply. I hadn’t seen Coco in a year. She was an NYU drama graduate who left the city for the neon lights of Hollywood. Broadway wasn’t her thing.

  I wondered why she was contacting me after all this time, but was it enough to continue the conversation? My curiosity won out, and the fact that Peaches was the last person I’d spoken to outside of work staff.

  Me: Of course.

  Coco: In town for a few hours. Plz meet me for a drink @ Knave.

  I sighed. Meeting her would break the rule I lived by. Once a woman was gone from my bed, she wasn’t allowed back in my life. For any reason. The rules weren’t just made by me, but by the service I used. The arrangements were treated like business transactions—money paid for time spent with me. But squeezing in a quick drink wouldn’t be the end of the world. Besides, she was leaving the city soon enough.

  Me: Okay. At 6.

  Coco: :)

  Later, I ended up walking to Knave, since it was only a couple blocks from my building. The benefit started at seven thirty, so my driver planned to pick me up at seven sharp. It would give me enough time to make the trek downtown.

  The dress code was black tie, so I wore my finest tuxedo with a silk lapel. I arrived at Knave fifteen minutes early, wanting to order a drink and get settled before Coco appeared.

  The long, rectangular passageway leading to the lobby served as the bar itself. The mirrored outside walls were lined with conversational-style seating. Couches and large, medieval-styled chairs were covered in dark crushed velvet. The same velvet draped from a two-story ceiling painted with heavenly bodies. A row of candles, similar to ones at a Catholic church, flickered in their red glass holders.

  The dark ambiance and religious overtones made me feel as if I should be attending midnight mass, not sipping scotch with other sinners.

  Glancing past the bartender’s station, I noticed Coco sitting on one of the large chairs. She was early, beating me to the punch, something unique for her. Not waiting for me to come to her, she stood up and started walking toward me.

  Her appearance shocked me at first. She was wearing a pair of stylish jeans, but absent were her signature high heels. Instead, she had on rainbow flip-flops. Perhaps California’s chill vibe had rubbed off on her. Also, this was the first time I’d ever seen her long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She resembled a casual hipster. I supposed it fit her age of twenty-five.

  Her smile hadn’t changed, though. It had never quite reached her eyes, and even less so today as she moved my way.

  “Lucas.” Her hands found my biceps, meaning there wasn’t going to be an awkward hug. Fine by me. She air-kissed my cheeks. Even more perfect. The subtle greeting made me more comfortable.

  “Coco.” I assessed her from head to toe, not in a leering sort of way, but in a general appraisal. Her hips curved more than I remembered. It made her look older, sexier. “You look great. Dare I say it, like an LA woman.”

  “And you are more handsome than ever, you devilish rogue.”

  Coco fluffed the top of my hair, more like a friend than an ex-lover. She had worked as a runway model during college and was the tallest woman I’d ever had as a lover. Peaches was her total opposite at just over five feet tall. At least that was my guess. I rubbed my hand over my jaw, frustrated Peaches kept popping into my thoughts.

  Stop it, Lucas.

  “Life treating you well?” I asked.

  “It’s been an interesting year.” She glanced to the side for a beat. When her eyes turned back to mine, I couldn’t miss the distant look in them. It was as if I wasn’t standing in front of her. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I need to visit the ladies’ room, but didn’t want to walk away and lose our spot.”

  “Of course. Have you ordered a drink yet?” I looked around the room. The place was only half full. Odd.

  “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  Her order confused me. She knew my go-to drink after five o’clock was scotch, and I never saw her touch a drop of it in the three months we were together.

  I escorted her toward where she’d been sitting, and she told me she’d be back in a bit. She walked, or more like ran as fast as one could in flip-flops.

  I parked myself on the couch, and a server approached before I could adjust my tux jacket and get comfortable.

  “Good evening, sir.” He placed a coaster on the coffee table in front of me and set a glass of ice water on it before handing me their menu. “Care to look this over before ordering? It’s the last weekend for our special summer cocktails.”

  “Two scotches, neat. The oldest Macallan you’ve got.” I gave the menu right back to him.

  “Both for you, or is the lady returning?” His brow rose as he glanced between me and the empty chair.

  “She stepped away for a minute.”

  “Oh…okay,” the server stuttered in an uncertain tone. Was it so hard to believe she wouldn’t be coming back? Okay, so we were dressed completely different. She was a beach babe with sun-kissed skin, and I could’ve been taken for a groom in my tux, but still, it wasn’t his place to judge.

  After a few minutes, he returned with our drinks, but Coco was still MIA.

  Continuing to sip on my scotch, the bar began to fill with other customers. I pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen for the time. It was six fifteen. Coco had been in the bathroom for twenty minutes. I checked for any incoming texts, but there was nothing from her.

  I decided to wait five more minutes, then ask the female server working the other side of the bar to check on her. I sure as hell wasn’t about to venture into forbidden territory.

  As the minutes ticked by, I wondered if she’d stood me up. It didn’t seem like her style, plus I thought we’d parted on good terms. I paid her a generous bonus to help her get started in LA, and she’d thanked me in a very personal way our last night.

  I drank the last of my scotch, ready to enlist the female server for help, when I heard a strange noise. It sounded like a whimper, followed by rustling and a snort. I sat up, looking to my l
eft, then right. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  I searched for the server. He hadn’t looked my way since he’d delivered the drinks. It was time to send a search party out for Coco.

  Before I flagged anyone down, I heard a similar noise, louder and more demanding. The whimper had turned into a full-blown cry, like one a baby would make. I jumped to my feet and followed the sound.

  It was coming from behind a large potted plant on the floor next to the couch. I stared down at the ground in disbelief. A tiny baby strapped into a seat type contraption. When I had walked by the plant earlier, the bar was so dark, I’d failed to see it. A pink headband was wrapped around the baby’s small head. Wisps of flyaway blond hair stuck out in a few places.

  Her crying turned into a blood-curdling wail, and I cringed. She crinkled up her nose and flung her tight fists in all directions. Her cheeks were an angry red. She was not happy.

  I glanced around the room, expecting someone to come help the poor baby. Instead, everyone stared back at me like I was supposed to do something about it. Even the server. But I didn’t have a clue. The few times I’d held a baby, I’d passed it back to the parents at the first sound of distress.

  Who would leave a baby alone in a corner behind a plant? It made no sense to me. Frustrated and desperate, I bent over and picked the baby up off the floor, seat and all. My benefit started in about an hour. I didn’t see anyone coming to my rescue and Coco was still nowhere to be found. Hell, meeting my father for dinner sounded less stressful than taking care of a screaming infant.

  I hurried over to my server, passing a couple who gave me a death stare which I returned with a glare of my own. Like it was my kid yelling at the top of her lungs. If no one claimed the child soon, I planned on calling the police.

  “Hey,” I said to the server with heavy breaths. “Do you have any idea whose baby this is?”

  The server’s gaze flitted around the room, looking everywhere but at me. He muttered indistinguishable words. What the fuck?

  “For the love of God, man.” I wanted to shake him, but couldn’t sit the baby on the floor again. Sweat ran down my back. I wiggled my neck, trying to loosen my bowtie and get some air. “Do you know where the parents are?”

  “She brought the baby in before you arrived. I knew something was up with her. I’m going to lose my job.” He ran a hand through his hair, then hit himself on the forehead and went back to talking under his breath.

  “Who is the ‘she’?” When his troubled eyes met mine, I knew the answer.

  “The blond girl in the flip-flops.”

  The female server came over and started murmuring to the baby. She unbuckled a strap and pulled the baby out of the seat. I freed my hands and set it down on a neighboring chair.

  The woman laid the baby on her shoulder and swayed back and forth. She gently patted the child’s back. The screaming subsided as the baby began sucking its thumb. I exhaled the deepest breath of my life.

  “Okay. Let’s start at the beginning.” With the child settling down and in better hands, I grabbed my server by the arm and moved him closer to the bar, farther away from prying eyes. “The woman’s name is Coco.”

  I stopped myself and raised my eyes to the ceiling. I just lied, though not intentionally. Her real name was a mystery to me. She chose Coco as her working name. I tried another avenue.

  “Did you see her walk in with the baby?” The server cowered under my hold and nodded. “Why did you say you’d get fired?”

  “She came into the bar and told me she was bringing the baby to the father.” My grip tightened on his arm. “She looked like a nanny, so I thought she was on the up and up. She even gave me a hundred dollars for letting her keep the baby near the bar. She said it was darker over there.”

  “This entire bar is dark,” I said through gritted teeth. Coco held the keys for finding out who this baby belonged to, but I needed to find her first.

  I let go of the server’s arm and pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket. I brought up the text from Coco earlier in the day and hit call. Two seconds later, I heard a phone ringing a few feet away. I glanced over in the general direction of the sound. Once again, all roads led back to the potted plant. I strode over and saw a bag tucked under the plant. The phone screen lit up as the ringing continued. I canceled my call and the noise disappeared.

  Dammit, Coco. This was a setup.

  I reached for the bag with the phone in it, and a letter fell to the floor. When it landed face up, I saw my name on the front.

  My phone buzzed, and I flipped it to show the screen, hoping Coco was texting from another number. It was my driver letting me know he was waiting outside, ready to take me to the benefit.

  I glanced at the baby, who had fallen asleep on the woman’s shoulder. It was a small miracle, but I’d take it. I peered at the letter on the floor and my vision blurred. What the hell was I supposed to do?

  Closing my eyes, I hung my head. After a couple deep breaths, I texted my driver and told him to wait, then I picked up the letter off the floor. I stared at the white envelope, wondering if it contained a reasonable explanation for Coco leaving this child with me. I didn’t have much hope, but I opened it anyway.

  10

  Lucas

  The envelope wasn’t sealed, and the contents slipped right out. Anxious to get to the bottom of this debacle, I unfolded a thick letter with several pages. My heart was pounding against my ribs. I let the envelope fall to the ground, holding the letter in my right hand.

  I glanced at the first page. Then I turned back the corner of the paper, relieved to see typed words, and two other pages with the same typing. I returned back to the beginning page where there was one handwritten sentence in black ink:

  I know you’re upset right now, but please don’t call the police until you’ve read the letter all the way to the end.

  I reread the words several times, wondering if I should follow her directions. She was an insane person who dumped an innocent child in a New York City bar. But she knew me well. My first instinct had been to call the cops—or at least hotel security.

  “You all right?” The woman holding the baby had walked up beside me while I had been distracted reading. The child was still sleeping soundly without a care in the world. But who did she belong to?

  “I need you to take care of the child while I figure out what’s going on.” I held her gaze, and she tilted her head, giving me an assuring smile.

  “You’re lucky.” I scoffed at her comment, and she gave me a sad smile. “I was supposed to clock out at seven, but the server taking my place is early. I’ve got this sweet one for you.”

  She tried to ease down, still holding the baby, and reach for the bag at the floor by my feet. I intervened and picked it up before she pulled a muscle in her back. I couldn’t have her getting hurt. I was desperate for her help.

  I moved away from the dark corner near the potted plant, closer to where I was previously seated. The area was better lit, and I needed to see every word typed on the page. I had a feeling they were about to change my evening plans.

  I exhaled a deep breath and started reading the second page.

  Dear Lucas,

  Thank you for continuing to read my letter. What I’m about to tell you will come as quite a shock. I would suggest you sit down before reading further.

  Taking her advice, I found my way to the couch and glanced over at the baby, seeing her better from where I sat. Her thumb was no longer in her mouth, her arm hanging lifeless at her side while she slept.

  She had pink, rosebud lips and chubby cheeks. She hadn’t missed a meal…or a bottle, as the case may be. My eyes went back to the letter.

  While I was in New York City, I kept a part of my personal life hidden from you and the service that employed me. I was engaged to another man. I regret not being truthful with you. You deserved my honesty.

  I knew if the service found out I had a fiancé living back in my hometown of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, they wouldn
’t hire me. As you know, I’d lost a major modeling job and didn’t have enough money to finish out my last year at NYU. I was desperate, so I presented myself as a single woman, untangled and free. All lies.

  My fiancé couldn’t afford the high cost of living in the city, so he waited for me to graduate, then joined me out in California. We stayed with high school friends until we found work.

  Things were finally looking good for us, and we moved into our own apartment. Two weeks later, what I thought was the flu ended up being the child with you tonight. Esmé was born nine months to the day after I left New York last August. It was also the day after I said goodbye to you.

  I stared at the last sentence. Bowing my head, I closed my eyes, letting the reality of the words sink in and twist in my gut.

  She had left New York the day after we had sex in my apartment, which included the dining room table, over the couch from hell, and ending up in my bed. She had an insatiable appetite, and we ended up fucking on surfaces we’d never touched before. I’d never seen her so aggressive, but hell, I hadn’t minded one damn bit. She’d let me tie her up with the restraints under the bed and do things to her she hadn’t cared to try before. I thought it was a thank you for giving her a pile of cash.

  I shook my head. None of it made any sense. How could she have been like that with me knowing she would see the man she planned to marry—what? The next day in LA?

  The truth about her and us made me wonder if our time together had been nothing more than a dress rehearsal. Well, she should prepare her Oscar speech—her performance with me would earn one.

  I had to face the important question at hand. She implied I was the father. Could it even be possible? What in the hell was she implying by sharing all this news to me? Where did I fit in? The service required her to be on the pill, but had she been? She’d pretended to be single, so she could have made that up too. One good thing, I never had sex without a condom. Having once been burned by a fiery redhead at the age of twenty-seven, I trusted no one.