by Katy Kaylee
Sure, it was a strange thing for me to say, since I was the CEO and owner of my own company, but at home I was used to being spoken to with anger, resentment and disrespect. For some reason, everything went downhill after we had Willow, and in my opinion, Jade didn't like the fact that I had to 'share' her with Willow. She also resented me for 'ruining' her body by getting her pregnant, and a whole bunch of other absurdities.
Malia on the other hand, spoke to me quietly, lovingly, and with respect. Sure, she also spoke to me in dirty manner, but that was purely sexual, and I liked it. Jade never did things like that, and it was great to be with someone who didn't prefer fucking doggy-style just so that she didn't have to look at me.
Yeah, that was what I had to deal with.
A sudden knock on the window made me jump and I threw a few profanities out into the air, but it was only Mike and Cole. They were there to rescue me from my intoxication.
I hunched down in the backseat of the Volvo, while Cole drove the Jaguar following closely behind us and I must have spaced out for a while, because the next thing I knew, the bright lights of the garage momentarily blinded me as the car pulled inside. Mike climbed out and opened the door for me and provided an arm of assistance.
"Thank you, Mike. I appreciate it."
"Do you need assistance to your bedroom, Mr. Marsh?" Mike asked.
"No, I'm good, but thank you for offering."
I was just afraid that Malia might be waiting in my bed for me, wearing nothing and I definitely didn't want Mike to see that. Although I was under the distinct impression that he already knew about me and Malia, I still kept my personal life private, and I knew I could count on him for his discretion.
I opened the inter-leading door and slowly walked into the kitchen. The lights were off, except for the light of the television in the living area. As I stopped in the doorway, my gaze fell onto the couch and a smile formed on my lips. Malia lay curled up on the couch, cuddling the mink blanket that was always on my bed, fast asleep. Her long blonde hair lay perfectly around her face, and she looked so peaceful.
I stood there watching her – this was becoming a really creepy habit it seemed – for a short while before I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and two Advils. I quickly drank them down, because I knew I would need the during the night. Luckily they were slow release, so it would have me covered until morning.
I went back to the living area, and scooped Malia up in my arms. She was easy to carry, even in my drunken state, and I made my way up the stairs. I made sure that I was careful, taking each step slowly and surely putting my foot down before raising the other. I made it up in one piece, which was definitely one for the record books, and walked to her bedroom. I gently pushed the door open with my foot, went inside and lay her down on her bed. She still held onto the blanket and touched my hand.
"Hey," I whispered to her as she opened her eyes sleepily.
"You're back," she murmured and weaved her fingers between mine.
"I am," I said and sat on the edge of her bed beside her.
"Did you have a good time?"
"It was interesting, but then again, it always is with those guys from work," I answered. "It was fun."
"I'm glad you had fun," she whispered. "We missed you. I missed you."
"I missed you too, both of you," I said with a slight smile. "You're not upset with me, are you?"
"No, you're entitled to your boys' nights," she murmured, her eyes falling again.
"Thank you for that," I whispered and leaned in closer to her. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Okay," she said sleepily. "Sleep tight."
"You too, babe," I said and kissed her softly on the lips.
"I love you," she murmured softly.
My shoulders tensed slightly, even in my drunken state and I stared at her with wide eyes. I was too afraid to say anything in return, so I simply stood from the, and retreated back to my bedroom, dazed and confused by the idea that Malia loved me.
Dillon
The two Advils I drank last night were not nearly enough to help me curb the hangover that consumed my body the following morning. A pulsating headache ripped through my skull at the breakfast table the next morning, and Willow chattering didn't really help it, but I didn't mind. As long as she was talking, I'd happily listen. My hangover was my own fault, so it had nothing to do with her.
Malia refilled my cup with strong coffee, and I smiled gratefully at her, even though it hurt like a bitch to use all my facial muscles.
"How are you feeling?" she asked and I glanced at her.
"It's been a while since I felt this shitty," I grumbled.
"Daddy, you're not supposed to say that word," Willow pointed out.
"I know, Honey, but it's the truth," I said before taking a sip of my coffee.
Willow glanced at Malia with a frown and I heard Willow say to Malia, "Can we do something fun today? I'm bored."
"I'm sure we can find something fun to do, right Dillon?" Malia asked and I glanced at her.
"I suppose."
Malia narrowed her eyes slightly and turned to Willow. "Will, can you give me and your dad a minute. I just want to talk to him about something."
"Sure. I was done anyway," Willow said and stood from the table.
It was quiet until she was completely out of sight, and Malia spoke.
"I know you're hungover, and you feel like crap. I get it, I've been there too, but you have to snap out of it."
I glanced at her, and even though she was right, my stubbornness seemed to take over at that moment.
"You promised her that you were going to do something awesome and special with her this summer, and I know the summer is only a couple weeks in, but she really wants to do things with you," she said carefully and placed her hand over mine. "She wants to spend time with you, and so do I."
"I've been working too much again, right?"
"Right," she said simply.
I took a deep breath and knew I had to step the fuck up, otherwise I was going to do one of the tings I promised myself that I would never do; disappoint Willow. "Give me an hour. I'll make a few calls, just make sure my cup stays full."
"Done," she said, leaned in and kissed me, which reminded me of what she had said in her sleep last night.
"There's something I wanted to ask you," I said and she glanced at me with expectantly raised eyebrows. "Do you remember what you said to me last night in your room?"
She frowned at me and pouted slowly. "Vaguely. I know I asked you whether you had fun and you described it as interesting, and then you asked me whether I was upset with you for going out with the guys and coming home so late, and I said no."
I was the one who raised my eyebrows as she spoke, hoping she would remember that she told me that she loved me.
"That's about it," she shrugged. "Why? Did I say something else to you? Was I a bitch to you?"
"No," I said and shook my head. "You were not a bitch. I just wanted to know whether you meant it."
"Dillon, I am not upset with you because you went out for a few drinks, which turned into a whole lot of drinks, hence the massive hangover you have right now."
"You're not upset," I said, confirming her words.
"No."
"And this isn't some kind of test the I am most probably failing miserably?" I asked.
"There's no test," she said and squeezed my hand. "Why did you ask whether I remembered what I said to you though?"
Think, Marsh.
"I just wanted to make sure you know that you're not upset with me."
She sighed and shook her head. "I'm not like your ex-wife, okay?"
"Thank god for that," I muttered and gazed into her blue eyes. "I have a few calls to make."
"And I have to make sure that Willow is okay."
"I'll be along in a bit," I said and Malia stood from the chair and left the kitchen. I gulped down the last of my coffee and took out my phone. I dialed a number and listened to the l
ine connecting.
"Disneyland Hotel, Paris. This is Victoria speaking. How may I assist you?"
"Good morning, this is Dillon Marsh, from MarshCo Media. How are you this morning, Victoria?" I asked in my most charming voice.
"It's nice to hear from you again, Mr. Marsh," she said. "What can I help you with today?"
"Listen, I need a favor, and it's rather urgent. Do you think you can help me out?" I asked.
"Anything for our Diamond VIP guest."
It was about an hour later and everything was set. I just needed to tell Willow, and Malia. I walked up the staircase and heard Willow and Malia inside Willow's bedroom. I shoved the door open with an overload of dramatic flair and Willow and Malia glanced at me with a frown. To them I probably looked a little crazy, because they were looking at me as if I was.
"What's going on, Daddy?" Willow asked.
"Well," I said as I sauntered into her bedroom, "I just got off the phone with Mike. He's going to be bringing the car around in about an hour or so."
"Why?" Willow asked. "Are you going somewhere?"
"Not just me, all tree of us."
"Where are we going?" Willow asked and slid off her bed.
"Oh, just Disneyland," I answered nonchalantly. "In Paris."
Willow let out the loudest and shrillest shriek I had ever heard, and I was quite surprised that all the windows in the house didn't shatter instantly. She ran towards me and I scooped her up in my arms. "Are you serious, Daddy?"
"I'm serious," I answered. "You better get packing. Both of you."
I glanced at Malia and she walked over to me. "We're all going to Paris? Together. You, me and Willow?"
"Yes. For a whole week."
"A week," Willow shrieked again.
"Is there a problem?" I asked and pouted my lips.
"Of course there is a problem," Willow exclaimed as she slid down and out of my embrace. "I have no idea what I am going to pack."
I glanced at Malia, who chuckled as Willow yanked the doors of her closet open with desperation and excitement and glanced at me. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and smiled. "You've clearly outdone yourself, Mr. Marsh."
"Oh, you ave no idea," I whispered before kissing her swiftly on the lips.
"Excuse me?" I heard Willow say with a sharp tone and we both glanced at her. "While there will be more than enough time to kiss, we have more important things to worry about."
"Like what?" I asked.
"Malia and I need to pack," Willow said as a matter of factly, grabbing the hem of Malia's shirt.
"It looks like we're going to have to continue this later," she whispered to me.
"I'll see you ladies out front in an hour," I said with a smirk and pressed my palms together, in a pleading gesture. "Just don't take too long, okay? We don't want to miss our flight."
"Then you have to let us do our thing," Willow said and waved me out of the room.
I chuckled as I headed to my bedroom, and as I stepped inside, my phone rang. I answered it while I opened my closet, and crouched down to slide my large black suitcase out from the bottom storage.
"Dillon Marsh," I answered.
"Mr. Marsh, we are prepping your jet as we speak. It will be ready for take-off in sixty minutes," one of the staff from the small commercial airport where my private jet was parked, Marcus said to me.
"That is wonderful news. We will be there within the hour. Thank you, Marcus."
"It is a pleasure as always, Mr. Marsh."
I disconnected the call and placed my phone on my bed. I quickly checked the weather for the coming week and packed accordingly. I didn't want to overpack, but I knew that I'd just be wearing casual clothes and no suits.
When Geoff and Walt heard that I was going away for a week, they tried their best to get information out of me.
"Where are you going?"
"Are you taking your new girlfriend along too?"
"Are you going to elope?
Many more ridiculous and absurd questions from them, but I didn't answer any of them. I wasn't ashamed that Malia was my girlfriend, and I was sure she knew that as well, but I didn't want people to know just yet. We were still enjoying the privacy that goes along with no-one knowing, and we actually preferred to see it that way. While we were in Paris, we could openly hold hands and kiss, because the chances that anyone would know us there was pretty slim.
I finished packing, closed my suitcase, and packed a small carry-on bag with my charger, a book and a few essential items that I would ned o the flight, although everything would be at my disposal anyway. I dressed in something comfortable for the long flight and within a few minutes, I was walking down the hallway, dragging my suitcase behind me and my carry-on over my shoulder. I didn't bother peeking my head into Willow's room, at the risk of disturbing the women while they packed way too much. I knew it already. This was to the first time I had to travel with female companionship, so I braced myself. Maybe I should call Marcus and ask him to file the bigger jet instead.
I shook my head as I made my way down the staircase and placed my luggage in the kitchen, close to the interleaving door. Mike would also be there with the car, ready to take us to the airport. I made myself a cup of coffee, pulled out the newspaper and made myself comfortable at the breakfast table, waiting for the women. Halfway through the paper, the inter-leading door opened and Mike, dressed in his usual attire entered.
"Mr. Marsh. The car is ready and waiting," he said.
"Great. The women should be along shortly, hopefully," I said.
"Perhaps we should notify the airport that we are running late?"
"There is absolutely no reason for that," I heard Malia's voice coming from the hallway and I glanced up. She and Willow were dressed in matching capri pants, and black berets, that I didn't even know they had.
"Wow, look at you two," I grinned.
"We're ready, papa," Willow announce in her best french accent, which made me smile.
Mike loaded the luggage in the car, which was not as much as I thought it would be, and pretty soon we were driving to the private airport, the inside of the car filled with excitement.
Truth be told, even I was excited and it had everything to do with the fact that I was going to spend some quality time with my two favorite girls in the world.
Malia
In the past three years where I had been a part of the Marsh family – in a manner of speaking – I had grown accustomed to their luxurious ways. The car I was given, Dillon's credit card that was at my disposal whenever I needed it for myself or for Willow, the house I got to live in rent-free, plus a salary that beat anything I will ever have in the 'real world', but nothing could have prepared me for the moment I stepped out of the black limo we had driven to the airport in. A private airport, as well.
The sky was clear and blue as Dillon had climbed out and reached out his hadn't to me. Although I didn't really need to be assisted out of the limo, I still took his hand. Once I stepped out of the car with the warm Florida breeze against my skin, my eyes widened as I saw it. It was magnificent.
The private jet was parked on the far end of the runway, its steps lined with light grey velvet awaiting eagerly for us to come on board. There was a young looking man, who I automatically assumed was the captain of the jet and would be flying us to Paris, flanked by his co-pilot. Both looked so young and I couldn't help but wonder whether they were up to the task, but then again, Dillon wouldn't employ anyone, or entrust anyone who was anything less than exceptionally competent.
The pilot and co-pilot greeted us politely, and Dillon shook their hands with a wink. Mike took care of our baggage, and I glanced at Dillon. He noticed the slight overwhelmed expression on my face and he smiled at me with reassurance. I couldn't ignore the hint of vanity on his lips, but I guess that he was allowed to be a little bit of a show-off.
I was a little bit impressed after all.
The inside of the jet was something I could have never imagined. Every
thing was monochrome – decorated in black and white leather – and I saw a lot of Dillon's influence there. There were ten seats altogether, each pair facing one another with a table between them. It reminded me of an Agatha Christie train, but only far more luxurious and modern. The seats were white leather, and looked like it could be even more comfortable than my bed. As Dillon led me to my seat, a smirk graced his lips and I wondered what he was thinking.
I was right, the seat was damn comfortable.
Willow settled into her seat nonchalantly as if it was the most normal thing in the world and I was in total awe of her sense of normalcy. I had to contain myself from taking a bunch of pictures, staring with an open mouth and making myself look like a total fangirl.
Dillon sat down opposite me and raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, this is the most amazing thing I had ever seen in my life," I admitted, feeling way too overwhelmed for my own good.
A smile formed on his lips and he fastened his seatbelt around his waist. I did the same. Luckily I didn't fumble like a complete fucking idiot.
"As soon as we're in the air, you can go take a look around. There's more that way," he said and pointed behind him.
"More? More what?"
"More plane. All the comforts of home," he said with a grin and patted the leather armrest.
"Right, because you're a billionaire and why not," I shrugged.
"You look a little overwhelmed."
"I am," I admitted and sighed. "I knew you were a rich guy, owning your own company and being a billionaire, the house you live in, the car you drive. I guess I just never noticed it until today, because you don't act like the type of guy who has a private jet like this, or takes his daughter and his girlfriend to Paris for a week."
The corners of his mouth curled up and he said, "That is one of the sweetest things you've ever said to me."
I felt my cheeks flush and I turned my head to look out of the rectangular window beside me. "You're welcome."
"Hey," he said and I glanced at him. "You're amazing."