Sugar Daddy

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by Nicole Andrews Moore


  Instantly he relaxed. “Yes.” He said. And liking the sound of it, he repeated, “Together.”

  Pulling back, Hannah smiled. “Okay, I’m instituting a do-over.”

  He eyed her curiously, wondering what she meant by that. Before he had a chance to dwell on it, she was speaking again.

  “Good morning, Gavin,” she said shyly. “Thank you for taking care of me last night. I know I was a mess. And I really appreciate that you were there for me.”

  His chest tightened at her words. “Morning, Hannah,” he said and planted a kiss on her temple.

  Immediately, she withdrew. “So, now we have to prepare. I’ll get ready then run to the grocery store. I guess we’re going to have a big family dinner for Easter?” She watched his reaction and saw him swallow. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’” She eyed him a moment more. “A bigger family dinner than even your mother?” He nodded weakly. She took a fortifying breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay then. I guess I have my work cut out for me.” She paced back and forth a few times thinking. “At least the kitchen will be finished today. So we’ve got that going for us.” She gave him a half smile.

  “Hannah,” he began to protest, “You don’t have to go all out for this. It’s my family. I will be more than happy to have it catered. I don’t want to add to your stress.” He stared at her sadly.

  She shrugged. “No big deal. I haven’t cooked in weeks. And it’ll be nice breaking the kitchen in on a holiday.” And with that she turned and flounced back into the house, leaving Gavin to stare at her in wonder.

  Something had changed between them. Hannah could feel it…and see it…and hear it. Since leaving the house Gavin had called no fewer than three times. He called the first time to make sure that she was paying for all of her purchases with the new Black American Express card he had ordered for her on his account. Then he had called because he wanted to tell her how much he appreciated her for offering to cook on Easter. And now, as she was carrying groceries into the house, with the girls trailing behind her, her text chime sounded.

  Dropping the bags onto the counter, she paused for a moment to admire the finished cabinetry before checking the message. It was, no surprise, Gavin announcing their impending arrival. “Madge,” she called in a panic, only to remember that it was a holiday and Madge probably had the day off. Hannah sighed loudly and wondered aloud, “How in the ham sandwich am I supposed to get everything done in twenty minutes?”

  “You called?” Madge asked, stepping into the kitchen with a box of dishes that had been stored in the dining room. Without waiting for a response, she began unpacking as quickly and efficiently as she did everything.

  Hannah felt her eyes tear up. “I thought you were off today,” she said weakly.

  “I can leave if you want,” Madge said seriously, “but Mr. Meyers offered me double my usual pay to help out all weekend.”

  “Gavin?” Hannah asked confused.

  “He called while he was on his way to the airport, told me you might need the help, explained that he was picking up his mother,” she shuddered. “I said, ‘Say no more.’ And then I dressed and came right over.”

  Standing there beaming, Hannah marveled at Gavin’s consideration. “I can’t believe he did this,” she said quietly.

  “Oh, I can,” Madge said with a knowing look. Then she turned her attention to readying the kitchen.

  Just shy of twenty minutes later, Gavin walked through the door calling for Hannah and the girls. “Come meet my mother,” he said seriously. For some reason, he was filled with apprehension at the mere idea of the encounter. Yet what did he have to worry about? Why was this so important to him? And he swallowed hard. He wanted his mother to like Hannah. He wanted Hannah to like his mother. And the same was true of the girls. This was rapidly growing far more complicated than he had ever envisioned. What should have been a simple case of revenge had become a case of unrequited love.

  People streamed into the foyer from everywhere. Rory and Zoe were carefully making their way down the stairs while Hannah and Madge walked in from the keeping room.

  Madge gave a quick polite nod to the stuffy looking woman standing next to Gavin, “Mrs. Meyers,” she said. And then she backed away.

  Hannah was about to perform the same ritual when Gavin realized what was about to transpire and stared at her stricken. She paused and waited to take her cue from him. The girls had reached the foyer and moved to either side of their mother.

  “Mother,” Gavin began formally, “this is Hannah, the woman I told you about.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Meyers,” Hannah said with a warm smile.

  “And these little angels,” he added while looking affectionately at the twins, “are her girls, Aurora, Rory for short, and Zoe.”

  “I don’t have a nick name,” Zoe mourned.

  Her sister scowled at her. “That’s because your name is already short enough,” Rory said and rolled her eyes impatiently. Then, like the miniature adult she was, Rory held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said shyly.

  Mrs. Meyers, one not easily impressed, was nearly instantly charmed. She did something Gavin could never remember her doing. Squatting to the girls’ eye level, she asked, “I don’t suppose you could give me a hug?”

  Glancing up at their mother for approval, the girls awaited her response. Once they had the reassuring nod, they beamed and walked straight into her outstretched arms. Instantly, Hannah realized that Mrs. Meyers truly was desperate for grandchildren. And for now, hers would do. She looked at Gavin for a reaction. He stood there stunned.

  Quickly regaining her composure, Mrs. Meyers straightened and adjusted her dress suit. “Now if you’ll carry my bags to my room, I’d like to freshen up before lunch.” And with a poke to make sure she had his attention, she headed down the hall to Gavin’s room.

  Once he had left the foyer to do as his mother requested, Hannah turned to look at Madge with a frown. “I thought there was only Gavin’s room down that hall,” she said.

  “There is,” Madge said seriously while tugging at her chin.

  “Oh,” Hannah said, still contemplating the situation. “So where do you suppose Gavin will sleep?” She wondered.

  Raising her eyebrows until they formed shocked peaks on her forehead, Madge replied, “I guess we’ll see.”

  Hannah tilted her head to study her. Something in Madge’s tone suggested that she already knew the answer to the question, but wasn’t going to reveal it. “Well,” she said as they headed back to the keeping room. “She seems nice.”

  “Humph,” was the reply. “Looks can be deceiving.” And with that she grabbed her mug from the coffee table and headed toward the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Hannah said. “Where are you going?”

  Glancing at the clock, she said, “Well, Mrs. Meyers likes to have a light lunch at noon, take a nap from one thirty to three thirty and follow that with high tea once she’s freshened up.” She sighed. “And dinner will be served precisely at seven.”

  Frowning, Hannah remarked, “That will never do. The girls have to be in the shower at seven.” She shrugged. “No worries. I’ll talk to Gavin.”

  In the past, Madge might have argued that it would do no good, that the ways of the house were set in stone when Mrs. Meyers was in residence, but now she knew that it was different. She knew that if Hannah pressed Gavin, she would get whatever she wanted. She knew that if she really pressed him, she could have more than she bargained for. And smiling, she hoped that Hannah would simply flatten him. They needed a change.

  At first, Mrs. Meyers had been reluctant to see reason, so Hannah had simply suggested that she and the girls would eat dinner earlier so that she might keep with their routine. Finally, unwilling to give up the idea of a real family meal, Mrs. Meyers had relented and decided that she could shorten her nap, move up high tea, and have dinner at six. Realizing that a huge concession was being made, Hannah showed her gratitude by cooking a phenomenal repa
st.

  When Mrs. Meyers had walked in on her during the process, she had looked stricken. “What are you doing?” She asked with a horrified look. And glancing wildly about the room she asked, “And where is Madge?”

  “Home for the night,” Hannah announced confidently. “I’m perfectly capable of cooking a decent meal, if that is your concern.” And she returned her attention to the romaine lettuce she was washing.

  Sniffing about, Mrs. Meyers asked, “And what is on the menu tonight?”

  Smiling Hannah realized that she hadn’t even asked for input. She had simply set about making whatever struck her fancy once Gavin’s mother had retired for her nap. “While you were sleeping, I made a pan of lasagna with a homemade meat sauce.” She studied the reaction and was pleased to see that the woman hadn’t wrinkled her nose in response. “We’ll be having a nice sourdough loaf,” she commented, pointing to the bread machine on the counter. “And obviously, Caesar salad.”

  And if she had watched in horror as Hannah cooked, Mrs. Meyers now watched in fascination as Hannah and her son cleaned up together. She wouldn’t have guessed that Gavin even knew how to clean up, but there he was, working along side the woman he obviously felt very deeply for. She studied them as she sipped her coffee. Hannah was humming to herself, sometimes singing aloud, and then she would catch herself and giggle. Gavin would smile affectionately at her and encourage her to continue. It was very sweet even. Mrs. Meyers smiled over the rim of her cup. Too bad she lived so far away; she would give anything to see how this developed.

  Minutes after Hannah had gone upstairs to read to the girls, Gavin had turned to his mother. “Well,” he began rather sourly. He was used to her constant criticisms, that no woman he had ever had feelings for was good enough for him. And Hannah wasn’t well-bred like the others; she had never been to preparatory school. She had no experience with high society or the ways of his world. She was fresh. She might as well have walked off a farm; she was so naïve and innocent. He sighed and braced himself, ready to jump to her defense as needed.

  “What?” Mrs. Meyers said innocently, a smug smile on her face.

  “Don’t play games with me, mother,” he said leaning towards her. “I know you must have formed some opinion of her already. Out with it.” And he folded his arms over his chest.

  Slowly setting her cup down on the saucer, Mrs. Meyers folded her hands in her lap and met his gaze with a smirk. “I like her,” she admitted.

  “But,” Gavin prompted.

  “No buts.” She watched him for a reaction. It was possible she had found a new form of torture. And she smiled widely.

  “You aren’t upset that she has kids?” He asked.

  “No,” she responded.

  “What about her lack of breeding?” He arched an eyebrow.

  “She’s a person, dear, not a horse,” she chided.

  Exasperated he threw his hands up. “As if that has ever stopped you from saying that before!” He glanced at the clock. He knew if he wanted to hear Hannah read he couldn’t waste any more time arguing with his mother. “We’ll talk,” he said as he left the room and headed up the stairs.

  Moments later, Gavin was standing shyly outside the door. Zoe had come over and taken him by the hand. Hesitantly he had entered the room, but he didn’t make it more than a step until he felt the usual constriction in his chest. He tugged at the collar of his Carolina blue golf shirt. He was ready to turn around and go back to his post in the hall when Hannah paused and caught his eye.

  “Sit with me,” she said simply and patted the spot that Zoe had just vacated.

  “But that’s where Zoe was sitting…” he tried to protest.

  “I’ll just sit on your lap,” Zoe offered, determined to do anything to make her mother resume reading.

  Gavin glanced down at her, fidgeting. And he looked over at Rory and her obvious impatience. Sighing, he knew that he had no choice. Slowly, he headed to the side of the bed. It was torture. He could feel beads of sweat break out on his forehead. Hannah must have noticed since she was frowning at him. The moment he forced himself to sit on the bed and sink into the pillows, Hannah adjusted herself so that she was leaned against his chest.

  “There,” she said and smiled up at him.

  For a moment he was lost in her twinkling eyes. And a second later, he realized he could breathe easily with her close. He exhaled and prepared to listen when Zoe climbed onto his lap.

  Just like her mother, she settled herself and said, “There.”

  “Back to our story,” Hannah said with a smile. “What does the business man say?”

  And the girls put serious looks on their faces as they said in unison, “I am concerned with matters of consequence.”

  Gavin was instantly humbled. He was a businessman. And too often it felt like his life was one big matter of consequence after another, while in truth, none of it mattered to him. He had thrown himself into the company because it was the family business. It was what was expected of him. He threw himself into getting married to India because once he completed college, it was expected of him. He had spent entirely too much of his life dealing with things he cared nothing about simply because it was expected of him.

  Of course, hadn’t this thing with Hannah started because he was doing what was expected of him on some level? He brightened. Not really. This…this had begun because he was shunning what was expected of him. He had found a way around what his mother wanted and discovered a way to make himself happy in the process. What had begun for all the wrong reasons was now flourishing for all the right ones.

  He snuggled into the pillows a little more and smiled down at the girls and Hannah. Maybe they could be a family. Maybe he could have what was always expected of him on his terms. For the first time in a long time, he was happy and he understood what truly mattered in life.

  Soon enough, the reading was done, the girls were in bed, and Hannah had joined him and was reading contentedly while he studied some of the files lying on his desk. Shortly after nine, there was a brisk knock on the door before it was opened. They both jumped slightly at the intrusion.

  Mrs. Meyers glanced back and forth between the two. They made quite the picture, sitting there involved in their own affairs, but still together. She smiled. “Well, I’m turning in for the night. Sleep well, you two. See you in the morning,” she ended in a pleasant sing song voice. Then she turned on her heels and exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

  Gavin was shocked. His mother had almost seemed happy. How utterly uncharacteristic of her. “Hm,” he said. And he began tapping his pen while he contemplated his mother’s actions.

  Hannah sat up in the chair and dropped her legs to the floor. “Not to interrupt,” she said slowly. “I know you’re deep in thought.” She gestured to his pen to support her statement. “But I was wondering where you are sleeping while your mother is here.” She watched him for a reaction.

  He grabbed his head in his hands. “Damn it,” he growled. Then he stood and walked over toward the fireplace where he began pacing.

  “Didn’t give that much thought, chief?” Hannah joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Obviously not,” he snapped.

  “Hey,” she chided, “don’t take your anger out on me.” She crossed her arms and stood in what could only be described as her scolding mommy posture.

  Shoulders drooping in defeat, Gavin sighed. “You’re right, of course.” He shrugged.

  Quick to forgive, Hannah graced him with an understanding smile before continuing the conversation. “Well, where do you normally sleep?” She asked.

  “In the girls’ room,” he answered weakly.

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “So, do you want the girls to bunk with me so that you can sleep there?”

  “No,” he answered weakly. “I may have let mother believe that we’re…together.” He cautiously watched for a reaction.

  “Okay,” she said again, still waiting for a solution.

&nbs
p; “So, she would expect that I would be upstairs with you,” he said quietly.

  Hannah stiffened. “Really.”

  Gavin frowned. “I’m just as upset over this as you are,” he complained.

  “Well, what do you have to be upset over? I’m the one who has to suddenly share her bed with her employer!” Hannah snapped and placed her hands on her hips.

  “I can’t sleep in that room. I hate being in that room. I have panic attacks at the mere thought of entering that room. And now…I’ve sentenced myself to a weekend of hard time…in that room.” He turned and faced the fire, unwilling to see her reaction to all he had admitted.

  Hannah crept over to him, slowly so as not to startle him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his back. She could feel him relax slightly at her touch. “What is it about that room?” She asked gently. She could feel him hesitate, heard him start to speak but stop. “Was that ever your room?” She asked, voicing what she had suspected for some time.

 

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