“Do you want some wine? I picked up a couple of bottles.” I walked over to the rack and ran my finger down my selection of reds.
“Sure! Sounds great!” Jennifer walked closer to the window, and her eyes scanned the horizon.
We had a reason to celebrate; which is why I was finally able to convince Jennifer to come visit me in New York. Her mother’s case was going downhill fast when Mr. Farber found an old contract she had with a business associate that implicated him in the scheme. Jennifer’s mother was a big fish for them to take down, but her associate was a legendary investor that even Alexio respected. The District Attorney decided to offer Jennifer’s mother a deal that didn’t involve prison in exchange for her testimony. She would never work in real estate again, and she was facing a fine that would cripple her financially, but she wasn’t going to be behind bars. It was the best possible outcome, considering the circumstances.
“Here you go.” I handed her a glass of wine. “It’s from that vineyard you like.”
“Wow, Manuel Rosario’s wine is available in New York? That’s crazy…” She took a sip. “What is this? Eighty-two?”
“I have no idea.” I shrugged and chuckled under my breath. “It’s wine from the place you like.”
“Maybe it’s eighty-three…” Her words trailed off when she turned, and something else caught her attention. “Those flowers are gorgeous! Are they from Alexio?”
“They are.” I smiled and nodded.
I had been able to tell Jennifer about my relationship with Alexio over the phone. She thought his grand gesture of moving to New York so we could be together was the sweetest thing ever, and I felt the same way. Things picked up exactly where they left off after he got moved into his apartment downtown. Some nights I stayed at his place, some nights he stayed with me, but we rarely woke up alone unless he had to fly to Los Angeles for some reason, or I was visiting my parents in Phoenix.
“This new job must be pretty nice if you’ve got a place like this and you’re able to buy good wine.” Jennifer lifted the glass to her lips.
“Well, don’t forget that they’re handling my lease for the first year.” I walked closer to the window. “I might have to downsize when it runs out, but who knows. My boss seems to be pretty happy with the work I’m doing, and he’s already had me sit in on a few meetings that are way above my pay grade—maybe I’ll get a promotion before then.”
“That hasn’t been a problem with Alexio?” Jennifer raised an eyebrow. “You’re technically his competition now, right?”
“It’s caused a few friction points.” I looked down and laughed. “Rutherford Trust will never be as big as Hawkins Capital, and he’s mostly focused on acquisitions, but sometimes we end up going after the same clients.”
I had become very submissive to Alexio in the bedroom—more so than I ever imagined—but I didn’t back down from him when we were competing for clients. I was the girl on my knees who loved to beg, please, and coax him to spank me behind closed doors. When we ended up across from each other on a deal, I never backed down. We turned off the business side of ourselves when we were together. I was still holding firm on my never when it came to nipple clamps, but I had learned to love being the woman in his arms as well as the girl on her knees who called him Daddy. I had a whole drawer full of bad girl panties, and I wore them more often than any of the others I owned.
“Maybe I should move to New York.” Jennifer walked over and sat down on the couch. “Is Rutherford Trust hiring?”
“Yeah…” I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were applying to places in Los Angeles.”
“You know how the job market is out there.” She shrugged. “Plus, some people get nervous when they figure out I’m related to Marsha Weaver.”
“I can talk to my boss if you’re serious.” I nodded and sat down next to her. “I can’t make any promises, but you might be able to get an interview at least.”
“I’ll think about it.” She smiled. “Especially if they give me a nice apartment like this for a year…”
“I can’t promise that!” I shook my head and laughed. “I could always use a roommate though.”
“Yeah?” She lifted her wine glass and smiled. “That probably won’t last long—I bet Alexio is going to put a ring on your finger before you ever have to give this place up.”
“I don’t know if he’s the marrying type…” I shrugged and sipped my wine. “Who knows—maybe I’m not the marrying type either.”
“You better get married one day.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s my only shot at being Maid of Honor!”
“Right, well I’ll keep that in mind if it ever comes up in conversation.” I shook my head and laughed.
Maybe one day…
* * *
Eight months later
“You’re supposed to say yes…” Alexio looked up at me from one knee with a diamond ring in his hand.
“I…” My words trailed off for a second. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”
A diamond ring was the last thing I was expecting when Alexio said he had a special evening planned. I thought he was going to show me a new toy that he had bought for us to play with in the bedroom—and as long as it wasn’t nipple clamps, I was excited. Instead, he dropped down to one knee and proposed. A million thoughts rushed through my head, but the one I finally settled one was obvious—I was going to be more than a girl on my knees and a woman in his arms—I was going to be his wife.
“You scared me for a second there.” Alexio slid the diamond ring on my finger and pulled me into an embrace when he stood.
“It wouldn’t have been fun if I didn’t build up the suspense a little bit.” I leaned against his shoulder and held up my hand so I could stare at my ring. “Wow, it’s gorgeous.”
“Not nearly as gorgeous as the woman who gets to wear it for the rest of her life.” He leaned back and smiled. “My wife…”
“Not yet.” I narrowed my eyes. “You owe me a gold band to go with it before you get to call me that…”
“It might be a diamond band.” He laughed. “Let’s plan the wedding before we pick out the rings. Obviously, your budget is wide open—anything you want.”
“Probably something small.” I smiled. “You know I’m not one for charity…”
“It’s your fucking wedding day—it’s not a charity event.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “God I love you.”
“I love you too.” I laughed under my breath. “Okay, maybe I’ll splurge a little bit.”
I was going to be Alexio’s wife—and nothing could make me happier. We had a few things to work through, but we would get there together. I was never going to be the kind of woman who liked having a Rembrandt in my dining room, or a Picasso watching me sleep—not if I was actually living there. A small apartment—or a house big enough for the family we would eventually have—that was enough for me. I couldn’t wait to have a million fights with him about those things, and I would probably lose a few of them, but we would find common ground—just like we always did.
“So…” I bit down on my bottom lip and grinned. “Are you going to make me call you Daddy once we’re married?”
“No.” He shook his head back and forth. “But you’re not going to stop—you like it too much.”
“Maybe…” I leaned forward until my lips were against his ear. “I might be wearing some bad girl panties right now too…”
“Then I think you need to go to the bedroom and wait for me.” He pressed his lips to my neck.
“Yes, Daddy…” I smiled and pulled away from him. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
I might have to start without you…
The End
Daddy’s Best Friend: Sneak Peek
Chrissy
“Are you…” The man in front of me looked down at his sign, which had my name written on it with a black marker. “Christina Banks?”
“Yes.” I nodded and tilted my head slightly. “Are you—Mr. Foster?�
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He doesn’t look like the guy my mother described—but it’s been a while I guess…
“No. My name is John.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’m just here to pick you up. I’ll take your bags.”
“Thank you.” I handed him the duffel bag that was hanging on my shoulder and took a step back so that he could pick up my luggage.
I didn’t have much with me. I certainly didn’t pack eighteen years of my life into a suitcase and a duffel bag. I brought the essentials, and the rest of my things were supposed to arrive in a few days. I still wasn’t bringing everything that I owned from Chicago to Los Angeles, but I hoped I would have enough to make it through my first semester of college at the University of Southern California. It was my father’s alma mater, and I had been planning to spend my college years there since I was a little girl—I just didn’t expect to run into the complications that arose after I got a scholarship for everything except room and board.
“How far is it to Mr. Foster’s house?” I followed John outside and waited as he loaded my things into the trunk of a black sedan parked by the curb.
“In this traffic?” He slammed the trunk and put his hands on his hips. “It’ll take us about an hour to get there.”
“Okay.” I nodded and walked around to the side of the car.
John opened the back door and closed it once I was seated. The car was really nice. I had never been driven before—by an actual driver. My mother said that Mr. Foster was well off, which was why he was in a position to help, but she didn’t tell me that he was rich enough to have his own driver. I hoped he was as nice as she said because I was still nervous about living with someone I didn’t know. It was a temporary arrangement, and she vouched for him, but he was still a stranger to me. I knew him by name—and vaguely remembered him stopping by when I was younger—but I didn’t really know him.
“So, have you been working for Mr. Foster very long?” I leaned forward and tried to make conversation once the car pulled onto the highway.
“A few years.” John nodded. “He’s a good boss.”
“Cool…” I leaned back in my seat—I really couldn’t think of anything else to ask him.
Mr. Foster—or Greyson, as my mother called him—was my father’s best friend. I was really excited when I got accepted to USC, but when I realized that my scholarship wasn’t going to cover anything outside of my educational expenses, I thought I was out of luck. My father left us with a little bit of money after he passed, but there was no way that my mother could afford to pay for me to live in California.
She saw how disappointed I was when I realized that my dream was about to fizzle out and decided to ask Mr. Foster for help. I hoped he would help me get an apartment and cover a couple of months of rent until I could get a job—instead, he offered to let me live with him while I was going to school. I didn’t want to be a charity case, but it was an amazing offer—one that I couldn’t really turn down. I still hoped that I would be able to get my own place after I got a job, but I was overwhelmed by his generosity.
“I don’t think Mr. Foster is home from work yet, but your bedroom should be ready.” John pulled the car up to a large iron gate and used a remote to open it.
“That’s…” My eyes nearly bulged out of my head as I stared at the mansion ahead of us. “That’s his house?”
“He’s got a few.” John chuckled. “But yes—this is where he lives.”
I couldn’t help being a little jealous when the car came to a stop in front of Mr. Foster’s mansion. It was clear that being a sports agent in Los Angeles was a lot more lucrative than Chicago. My father barely left us with enough to get by—Mr. Foster was living in the lap of luxury. I followed John into the house, and he led me to a bedroom at the top of a large spiral staircase. I had to blink a couple of times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. It was certainly better than what I was used too. The room was nearly as big as the house I grew up in, and it appeared that I had my own bathroom—I was used to sharing a half-bath with my sister and fighting over the mirror in the morning was a daily battle.
“If you need anything, you can hit the red button on your telephone.” John motioned to a phone that was sitting next to the bed.
“Who does that call?” I raised my eyebrows inquisitively.
“Mr. Foster has an assistant named Lauren who takes care of everything. If you need something, she’ll handle it.” He nodded quickly. “If you need to go somewhere, she’ll call me.”
“Oh wow, okay.” I blinked in surprise.
John left me alone in my new bedroom, and I decided to start unpacking. The walk-in closet was enormous, and I certainly didn’t have enough stuff to fill it. I could have stacked all of the boxes that were on the way to Los Angeles in the back corner of the closet and still had room to do cartwheels. There was a large dresser that looked more like a wardrobe. All of the socks and underwear I owned would fit in one of the drawers. I probably wouldn’t have needed more than two to hold all of the socks and underwear I had ever owned. The bed was king sized and even bigger than the one in my mother’s bedroom. I wondered if it was a California King. They were supposed to be bigger than regular ones—and I was in California.
I should take a few pictures and send them to my sister. Lorrie is going to be so freaking jealous.
I pulled out my phone, snapped a few panoramic shots, and then walked into the bathroom. There was a large whirlpool tub that reminded me of a Jacuzzi, and two shower heads. The sink was a large oval basin that I could have fit in if I curled up in a ball, and the mirror covered the entire wall behind it. There were also lights on the side of the mirror, which—unfortunately, made me realize I had a couple of blackheads that needed to be handled. I didn’t even notice them when I was getting ready that morning. The mirror made the blackheads stand out so much that I dug into my purse and grabbed my makeup so I could add an extra layer to hide them until I had time to properly handle the problem.
Now what? I guess I could explore the rest of the house…
I walked downstairs and started looking around. The first room I came to appeared to be a library. There was a large oak desk in the middle of the room and more books than I thought anyone could read in one lifetime. I saw some pictures on the wall and walked over to get a better look. I had to assume the guy that appeared in all of them was Greyson Foster. He was—hot. My sister remembered him a lot better than I did, and she mentioned that he was attractive, but that was an understatement. He was standing next to a celebrity from movies or sports in almost every picture, and he looked like he was the star.
He knows a lot of famous people…
In the middle of all the celebrities was a picture of Mr. Foster with my father. Seeing my father’s face was enough to make my eyes tear up. I was only five years old when he passed away. Most of the memories I had of him were stories that other people had told me. I was so young when he passed that I didn’t have many of my own. My father was a little older than Mr. Foster, but not by much. My father just didn’t take good care of himself—and he had a few vices, although most people didn’t mention those when they talked about how great he was. I missed him, even though I didn’t get a chance to really get to know him.
“You must be Christina.” A voice startled me, and I turned around to see the man in all of the photographs standing in the doorway of the library.
Oh my god, is that a—British accent? My mother mentioned that he was a Rugby star in England before he became a sports agent…
“Hi! Mr. Foster!” I walked over and extended my hand. “Most people call me Chrissy.”
“Chrissy...” He took my hand and shook it. “Nobody calls me Mr. Foster. Greyson—or hey, you—yeah you will work just fine.”
Wow, every word he says sound like poetry—and he’s so much hotter in real life…
“It’s nice to meet you—again. I know I met you when I was younger, but I barely remember it.” I looked up at him and for a second, I got lost in his mes
merizing brown eyes.
“You’ve definitely changed a little bit since then…” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m guessing you don’t play with Barbie dolls anymore.”
“No.” I blushed and suppressed a grin. “Thank you so much for letting me stay here. I promise I won’t stay any longer than I have to—a couple of months at most.”
Hopefully I can afford my own place by then if I find a job.
“It’s no trouble at all.” A slight smile formed behind his neatly trimmed beard—it was a darker shade of brown than his eyes with a little bit of gray along his chin. “I have plenty of room and your father was like a brother to me. You can stay as long as you like.”
If I stare at that amazing smile too long, I might never want to leave…
“I really appreciate it…” I nodded and forced myself to look away.
“Are you hungry? I assume you haven’t eaten anything since Chicago?” He turned and started walking down the hallway.
“Now that you mention it…” I followed behind him.
Greyson walked into what appeared to be the living room. It had a fireplace and the biggest television I had ever seen. The couch was big enough to seat my extended family and looked like it was more comfortable than the bed I slept in at home. There were several photographs on the wall in the living room as well, but most of them appeared to be pictures of his family. It looked like Greyson had a couple of brothers that were younger but not quite as attractive as him—and a sister that was absolutely stunning. If the picture of his father was any indication, then Greyson was going be even hotter once he had a little more gray in his beard and a few streaks in his hair.
I’ve never really been attracted to an older man before, but Greyson is so freaking hot that I can’t stop staring…
“Do you eat normal stuff, or should I ask my chef to start researching how to cook tofu?” He tilted his head inquisitively.
“I eat pretty much anything.” I shrugged. “Except—like, anchovies on my pizza.”
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