Playboy Heir

by Brandy Munroe

  "I suppose this month's child support won't be coming my way either, seeing you will be out of the country and all," I ribbed. "Oh wait, you don't pay child support; I waived it with the pretext that you would be responsible for Peyton's extracurricular activities, like soccer," I threw in his face.

  "Don't give me parenting advice, Haley," he growled and poked at the tabloids, then handed it back to me. "And stay away from this guy. He's bad news," he stammered. "Since you're so fond of reading, maybe you should read about how he treated his last girlfriend."

  I was tired of the encounter and responded in the softest and calmest voice I could muster, "Brad, I am not looking for anyone to replace you as Peyton's father. I just want you to be there for your son. I have to get to work now," I concluded. As I began to leave, I turned around. "Let me know when you get back into town so I can arrange for you to see Peyton."

  When I got inside, Leona greeted me. "Was that hurricane Brad raining on your parade out there?"

  "Something like that," I sighed. "Have you seen the press releases for yesterday's press conference?" I inquired.

  "Of course," Leona bounced. "They were great, why?"

  "They weren't all great," I told her, then handed her the tabloid that got Brad to drag himself away from his treatment long enough to hassle me.

  "Oh, Haley," she exclaimed. "This is a rag mag — no one really believes this crap. They find it entertaining to know someone else's life might be more messed up then theirs. Listen to me, there will always be bad reporters trying to make a name for themselves and won't let people live down their past. Don't give this or Brad a second thought," she said, giving me a reassuring hug.

  "So what did Hurricane Brad want this morning?" Leona asked.

  Beside grilling me about that article, I thought. "Well, as it turns out, he found some Witch Doctor, his words not mine, in some country who is going to magically fix his shoulder. Good as new. Oh," I added, "and he used the money he was supposed to give me to pay for Peyton's soccer, and his recreational summer program.

  "He did not," Leona exclaimed. "Didn't you already pay that with from your education fund?"

  "Bad news, yes, good news, with Brad away they have no coach, so no team. If they don't find someone to do it by Saturday, I will get the money back. It's a shame that the kids lose out because Brad can't grow up and accept his fate." I hoped that one of the other parents would step up and take on the responsibilities.

  “He said we could discuss Peyton’s needs for the rest of the summer after he gets back,” I grunted disgustingly.

  "I will lend you the money," Leona interjected. "You should not lose out because Brad is a loser. You can pay me back when we get yesterday's commission. Maybe I can ask for it to be processed early."

  The last thing I wanted was for my personal life to interfere with my professional life. Great boss or not, Leona still had a business to manage and was a consummate professional despite being my friend.

  That was what I was going to be; I was not going to let this morning's confrontation with Brad ruin my plans. "No special treatment, please. But thank you, I will figure this out."

  I approached Leona. "Do you have any ideal what to expect next with this turn of events?"

  "Not a clue," she confessed. "I had hoped that either Richard or Aleksander would show up at some point and give us some idea of what our new roles would be. I wondered if they would take my advice about the expansion, and if so, how soon would they want to implement them."

  Was Aleksander going to live here in Tranquility or commute from New York? Would he want to commute two hours every day? Perhaps he would stay in a hotel some nights and only drive from the city occasionally.

  I found myself daydreaming about Aleksander, about those smoldering dark eyes gazing into mine, his chiseled good looks. I could almost smell his scent. I could also smell my lust.

  "Aleksander!" I exclaimed out loud.

  Leona eyebrows went up. "Is there something I should know about yesterday? Did something happen you want to share with me?" she snickered.

  I was horrified, the magazine article kicking into my brain. I looked at Leona, picked the tabloid out of the trash and slapped it on the counter. "What happens when Aleksander sees this, what happens when Richard sees this? The whole world is going to see this." I was afraid I was going to hyperventilate.

  "Haley, breathe and calm the fuck down. I told you, this is a piece of trash and this is what you do with trash." She took the magazine from my hands and put it back in the garbage can. "Now let's get some work done and show everyone why we are the best at what we do. After yesterday's exposure, people who never knew we were here are going to be coming in wanting the special one-on-one service we brag about. Now put on your big girl panties and suck it up, buttercup," she demanded.

  The rest of the day was uneventful, just the way I had hoped. None of the customers mentioned the tabloid article. There was no finger pointing or whispering. Then again, Van de Graaf catered to more of an upscale clientele. They were not the kind that read tabloid trash, more the kind that ended up in tabloid trash. They would definitely understand the embarrassment I felt. I wasn't even sure why I felt embarrassed.

  It was bad enough I felt used by Aleksander for parading me in front of the media, but to now have to explain myself for something that never happened… I was beginning to think that maybe Brad was right. I would have to be careful around Aleksander. Not because of anything we did, but because of the things I fantasized about doing.

  It was nearly closing time when I caught Aleksander sauntering into The Boutique and approached Leona.

  “Good afternoon," Leona called. "Is there something we can help you with?"

  He grinned at her and commented, "What, you didn't take enough of my money yesterday?"

  I was put out that he had not acknowledged my presence and had only addressed Leona. I guess that my presentation yesterday was not as memorable as I thought.

  "We are just about to close. Was there something you needed from us? Something you would like to embellish on about yesterday?" Leona's voice got sing-songy when she was playing cat and mouse with someone. I had seen her do it with her boyfriend on occasion and it could get quite amusing.

  "I don't want to hold anyone up," Aleksander told her, "but I would like to take you to dinner," he pointed at Leona. "To discuss some personal matters you might be able to help me with."

  "No problem. I get to choose the restaurant because you're paying," she confirmed. "Haley, you can close up on your own, right?" she enquired.

  "Of course," I replied in the same sing-songy voice Leona was using. I wanted to mask my annoyance with Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding for ignoring me. "You two kids go along, have fun and don't stay out too late," I teased. "Tomorrow is a school night!" I shouted as they walked out the door.

  I knew Leona and Aleksander had a past connection. Was it because they were both friends of the Van de Graaf siblings? I also knew Leona loved her boyfriend and would never cheat on him. Not even with a man as fine as Aleksander. If I knew this, why did I feel another twinge of jealousy that before yesterday was foreign to me?

  On my way to pick up Peyton, I passed a fountain, tossed in a coin and made a wish that one of the other soccer parents would step up and take over for Brad.

  If Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding was going to be my boss, I should do my research. I was sure the internet would be full of information. I would have to filter through the truth from the tabloid sensationalism I had the pleasure of experiencing today. Would I be tempted to read “the book”? How personal did I want to get to know my potential new boss?

  Chapter 9

  Aleksander

  I hated sleeping in a strange bed. Last night however, I slept incredibly well because of my dream. More like my fantasy.

  I dreamt of Haley's well manicured hands on my feet. They moved up my leg then to the inside of my thighs. She wrapped her slim fingers around my engorged cock. I slid my hands up her sk
irt and raised it to reveal the creamy white thighs hidden beneath. I pulled her to my lap. She straddled me and began to buck and gyrate slowly like she was riding a mechanical bull, those piercing grey eyes beckoning me.

  I awoke, sweating, panting, wet and sticky. First a hot shower to clean myself. Then a cold one to clear my head. I could not let Shoe Girl derail my plans, no matter how much Manly’s cock wanted her. If my dream was any indication, it definitely wanted her.

  I decided I would drive myself into the office today. The weather was much nicer and it would be a pleasurable drive in my baby along the beautiful shoreline.

  I had no idea what kind of office I would have. Why had I not thought about these small details when Richard and I started negotiations? If we were going to expand the men's line, would we also expand the main office? I grabbed my new briefcase. I couldn't remember the last time I felt this nervous and excited at the same time.

  Yes, I could. It was the night the FBI showed up at my door with a warrant. They got a tip that they would find evidence of my father’s dealings with Markas. A tip called in by Ashley, I later found out.

  I had been thinking about her more than I would like to lately. I wondered why and decided I would stop trying to over-analyze everything and concentrate on my new journey.

  A very dangerous journey if I gave in to those fantasies. I couldn't remember ever having sexual fantasies about any woman. Not even Ashley when we were apart. Why now? Why Shoe Girl? I needed to shake it off.

  I decided I would invite Leona for dinner tonight. She lived here all her life and could be helpful in explaining what would be a good way to fit in with the locals. Where would be the best place to look for a new home, or should I rent something small during the week and spend my weekends in New York?

  If I sold my New York apartment, what would become of my housekeeper Annette? She was more than a housekeeper. She was family. She’d worked for my father since I was a child. I encouraged her to come work for me when me and sisters moved out. My apartment was much smaller than my father’s gothic mansion.

  So many decisions all at once with one little lifestyle change. Okay, maybe not so little, I reminded myself. More like one gigantic life changing decision.

  I knew this was one decision I would never regret. I would, from here on out, not regret any of my decisions, good or bad. Was that not how people learned from their mistakes, by making bad decisions? No more bad decisions. Only lessons learned from now on.

  I was glad I customized my Camaro with a few modern devices, like a GPS. I decided I would quickly check in at The Boutique and find out if Leona was free for dinner.

  When I got there I saw Shoe Girl arguing. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I did pick up that this was her ex and she had a son. The conversation got heated. Why did I feel a sudden urge to protect her? That wasn't the only urge I was feeling at the sight of her. Interrupting to defend her with my growing erection would not help the situation. I thought it best to stay out of the way and come back later to talk to Leona.

  I was anxious to get to the main office. Richard could introduce me to some of the key players. We had not actually discussed what would happen day two. We were so focused on just pulling yesterday's announcement off without a hitch. Day two had arrived and I hoped Richard had some sort of plan to go forward. As I entered the building, people were already shuffling to and fro.

  "Good morning Mr, Manos. Welcome to Van de Graaf. I'm Sindy with an S not a C. Let me take you to your office. This way, please." The bubbly receptionist reminded me of a live version of Betty Boop. Short dark hair, chipmunk cheeks and red pouty lips.

  I followed her down a corridor, where on the door was mounted a large plaque reading Mr. Aleksander Manos, Co-CEO.

  Richard stepped up behind me and slapped me on the back. "Welcome, my friend. We have a lot of work to get started on. I hope you like the space I picked out. I'm across the hall. Close enough to throw paper airplanes to each other with the test answers like in school," Richard teased.

  "Is it going to feel like I am back at school? Are you going to be looking over my shoulder?" I questioned.

  "Heck no," Richard said. "I have my own line to run and you don't need me telling you how to do things. I am here if you have any questions," Richard offered, "but this is yours to operate to run any way you think is going to enhance the company. We do have a few logistics to work out and it is going to take up most of our morning, but first a little damage control." Richard walked up to the large desk decorating the office and slapped a tabloid on it.

  I pick it up and read the headline After Months Of Self Exile, IS THIS MANLY’S NEW CONQUEST, below a picture of me and Shoe Girl with what looked like us holding hands.

  "Who printed this garbage?" I fumed and threw the magazine in the trash. "Take it from me, Richard, the best damage control is to ignore this. The more it is denied the more these rag mags will find pictures they can exploit."

  I had promised Richard Sr. that I would keep out of the tabloids. This was not a good way to start my time at Van de Graaf's. As I walked past the garbage can, I glanced down at the tabloid and wondered if that was what created the argument between Shoe Girl and her ex. I hoped not. I had first hand experience of how bitter an ex could be. I had one of my own that had royally screwed me with a less-than-flattering tell-all book.

  It was time to get down to business, and the first question would be how do we separate the lines? "We already have people working on the men's line," Richard explained. "Not as many as the women's, of course."

  "What if the designers were not separated," I explained. "They should all be in one room together to feed off each other. What doesn't work for one gender might work for another." I had been to fashion shows where the shoes were unisex and worn by both the men and the women.

  "Do you realize how much money we would save doing that?" Richard exclaimed.

  I knew if we pooled the resources we already had we would only need to add a few more interns to round off the numbers. It was worth a shot, and if we found we were not getting enough product for either line then we would consider splitting the crew, designating specific designers to focus on one line or the other.

  "What else do you have up your sleeve?" Richard asked.

  "Well," I added, "I was wondering about a personal assistant."

  Richard laughed. "Of course you get a personal assistant, but I would never attempt to hire you one. This is one task you need to do on your own."

  I knew I did not want an intern for my personal assistant. I wanted mine to be able to be comfortable with social media. That was the big thing lately and they needed to keep on top of the chatter. I would come up with a profile tonight after dinner, run it past Richard, then begin my search.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon introducing myself to the senior staff, taking notes and getting their opinions, even those I didn't ask for. This was going to be very new to me. I was going to have to find an outlet outside of work to help me wind down.

  I would check if Tranquility had a gym. Working out had helped me in the past. I enjoyed kickboxing and swimming; they helped me relax and release aggression. Another question for Leona, I thought as I checked my watch and decided it was time to call it a day and head out to The Boutique in the hopes Leona would take me up on my offer.

  My timing was right on the money. I made it in time to catch Leona before she left for the day and she was willing to go to dinner with me.

  I stayed focused on the task at hand. I needed to stay away from the one person who could derail my perfectly planned out future if I allowed her to get under my skin. I didn't look her way, I didn't acknowledge her presence. Too bad my cock was not listening to my brain. I could feel her presence, even from across the room. The scent of vanilla I remembered from yesterday. Her sultry voice, teasing, as I left with Leona.

  I should have figured Leona would get me to take her someplace swank if I was footing the bill. I thought briefly, did Tranquility even have a
nywhere that would be considered swanky?

  Not by New York standard, I doubted, but was very wrong. This was a tourist town and its downtown core could give any New York neighborhood a run for its money. I saw a lot of small mom and pop places.

  We finally ended up at a place called Voodoo Grill. The atmosphere was pleasant; it would be a great place to talk. Since we did not have reservations we would have to wait for a table. The hostess suggested we have a seat at the bar while waiting. I ordered a club soda and explained I still had to drive myself home at the other end of the shore and drove my baby in today. I wasn't taking any chances getting home on that winding road by even having one drink.

  "So you're driving, great! You can drive me home later. I'll have a chocolate martini, please, on his tab," she added.

  I began by telling her I had ulterior motives for taking her to dinner. I started with explaining that I was only renting a cottage and would at some point be looking for a more permanent address. I hoped she could help me in choosing a reputable real estate agent. I told her about my first day at the main office and how I had concerns that I would not remember anyone’s names again tomorrow.

  Leona explained I needed to assign an adjective in front of their names to help jog my memory. Then she asked, "who do you remember?"

  "Sindy with an S not a C," I answered her, grinning like a first grader who answered a question correctly.

  "That's what I mean," she lit up. "Things like that help you remember people and their names."

  It was sound advice. I did remember Sindy with an S, but would I have remembered such a common name had Sindy not pointed that out? Half an hour later our table was ready. We talked about what I was looking for in a personal assistant. I wasn't looking for the usual cup of coffee and pick up the dry cleaning kind. I explained I was looking for someone up-to-date on social media, someone who understood the importance of re-branding.