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Dr. Daddy's Virgin - A Standalone Novel (A Single Dad Romance)

Page 117

by Claire Adams


  Heath and Kelly had gotten married only a few short months after they started to date, and Kelly had just given birth to their son. It was amazing how fast life moved when all the stars aligned and you found the right one.

  Kelly and Heath were perfect for each other: There was no denying it. And their son looked just like me. I made sure to tell them that all the time, and I was going to do everything possible to ensure I was the best damn uncle that ever lived. Although I was scared to death at the prospect of ever having my own child, having a nephew who I could send home at the end of the day seemed like a great idea.

  Another fifteen minutes went by before Kelly and the baby emerged from the room. Finally, I thought that Cassidy would be on her way out. With Los Angeles traffic, we were going to be lucky if we made it there on time.

  “Is she coming?” I asked as I tried not to sound frantic.

  “I’m all ready,” Cassidy said as she strolled out of our bedroom and walked down the hallway.

  I am sure that my mouth literally dropped open as I watched my beautiful girlfriend walk elegantly toward me. She had on a floor-length black gown that hugged all her curves perfectly. Her hair was styled in amazing waves that were reminiscent of the 1940s, which was exactly the time period our new film took place in.

  “Wow,” my dad said as he stood up and came over to stand next to me. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to steal all your thunder tonight,” he joked.

  “Seriously, Cassidy, you look amazing,” Heath added.

  I wanted to talk. There were so many compliments in my head and I wanted to share every single one of them with her, but all I could do was stand there and stare. This was my woman. This amazingly beautiful creature had decided to follow me out to Los Angeles and stay with me, encouraging me along my journey to become a film producer and studio owner.

  I couldn’t get the words to come out of me I was so floored by how beautiful she looked.

  “Do I look all right?” she teased as she did a 360-degree turn in front of me and showed off the ultra-low back of the dress.

  “Damn, yes, baby, you look like perfection,” I finally managed to say.

  “Well, stop standing there. We better get going. You don’t want to be late for your own movie premier,” she said as she grabbed her purse and hustled to the door.

  Heath kissed Kelly and his son as we all rushed behind Cassidy and out to the limo that was waiting. We had thirty minutes to get three miles, which under normal circumstances seemed like it would be easy, but you never knew if the traffic would go your way or not in Los Angeles.

  “You know, Cassidy looks like a movie star,” my dad said as we drove toward the big event.

  “I do not. Come on now; you’re just trying to make me blush.”

  “I think he’s right. Maybe you should give the actress thing a try. I happen to know a movie producer,” I joked.

  “Well, since I dropped out of nursing school, I might just take you up on that offer. I just don’t know what I was meant to do.”

  “I’m going to check around. After tonight, you and that dress? Man, I bet directors are going to be begging to work with you.”

  Cassidy just laughed at me, but I was being serious. She had a special look to her. Unusual, yet down to earth at the same time. Not to mention that she was a sweetheart to be around. I suspected she might have just fallen right into what she was meant to do with herself.

  When we pulled up to the red carpet, it was pretty quiet. Most everyone had already gone inside and the photographers looked like they were packing things up. But at least we were there and we could run in and grab a seat to watch the show.

  It didn’t matter all that much if we were late. It was our studio, so we could see the movie whenever we wanted and the main thing I was interested in was how the film was going to be reviewed, which wouldn’t happen until after the release.

  Our door opened and I got out first and helped Cassidy as we started our way down the red carpet. As a movie studio head, many photographers didn’t really know who I was, so I wasn’t expecting too many to be interested in taking our photos. We would just sneak by and get our butts into the theater.

  “Erik, who’s that with you?” one of the camera men yelled out.

  “My girlfriend, Cassidy Conrad,” I said as I wrapped my arm around her and we posed for his photograph.

  “Wait right there,” another man said as he pulled his equipment back out of his bag.

  “Yeah, don’t move,” a third said.

  Before we knew it, all of the photographers and entertainment news stations had their cameras out and were snapping away. They barked orders for us to turn one way and then the next. They even asked for pictures of Cassidy alone, which she refused to do.

  Entertainment News on NBC pulled us aside and wanted to do a live interview, which I really hadn’t expected at all.

  “Mr. Levy, tell us about your career change from technology to film,” the young reporter asked.

  “The two fields aren’t that different. I’m using my technology background to help develop an expressive alternative to film batteries so our shoots can last longer without costing more money.”

  “And, who is this young lady? Have you already found your Los Angeles starlet?”

  “Actually, this beautiful woman is my girlfriend, Cassidy Conrad.”

  “Cassidy, what’s it like to date one of the most eligible bachelors in Los Angeles?” the reporter asked.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea that I was one of the most eligible bachelors. It wasn’t a title that I ever knew I had. Cassidy did great and kept a straight face through her interview.

  “Erik and I started our relationship as all great ones start: as friends. I’m lucky to have such an amazing man in my life.”

  “Are you in the film industry, too?”

  I could tell that Cassidy was about to say no, and I didn’t want her to throw this opportunity away.

  “She is going to be in one of our upcoming movies. We couldn’t let this kind of talent go to waste. We better keep going. I’m sure they’ve started the film without us by now.”

  I pulled her away, and we caught up to my father and Heath. Spencer had also just finished an interview and we all made our way in together. In that moment, I realized that it didn’t matter what everyone thought of the film. I was happy. Cassidy was happy. My father and my brother were with me and that moment was one of the best I could have ever dreamt of.

  I was in business with my best friend and if this movie sucked, we would fix what we did wrong and move forward with the next thing. Nothing was going to hold me back from having the life I always wanted.

  As my brother, father, and Spencer went into the theater, I held onto Cassidy’s hand for a minute. I was overcome with emotion and there was something I needed to say to her.

  “I love you. I hope you know that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “I know.” She laughed.

  “Will you marry me? I don’t have a ring right now. But I’ll get you any ring you want. Just say that you’ll make me the happiest man alive and become my wife.”

  She seemed pretty shocked that I had slid down on one knee as was asking her to be my wife. But it hadn’t happened overnight, and I knew she was the right one. I knew long before that moment and I wanted her to know it to.

  “Yes,” she said with a sultry smile. “I’ll be your Mrs. Levy.”

  “Yes!” I screamed as I grabbed her into my arms and hugged her.

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  DADDY NEXT DOOR

  By Claire Adams

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead
, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 Claire Adams

  Chapter One

  Vivie

  I switched the station when the opening riff of Guns 'n' Roses' Sweet Child O' Mine hit my ears. It had always been one of Dad's favorite tunes — one he played on guitar a lot and one he'd sang to me as a kid. It didn’t matter that he'd been gone for four years; not a day went by that I didn't miss him or think of him. And something like that song reminding me of everything he’d been as a dad and how he loved me; it was just too much to take after the day I’d had. Not to mention, I sure as hell didn't want to break down and start crying in the middle of five o' clock traffic.

  I kept one hand on the steering wheel as I flipped between stations, stopping on a local talk show where the radio host, Arthur Valley, was interviewing a local detective. I pricked my ears and fine-tuned the radio so I could hear more clearly; crime stories always fascinated me, and it sure wasn't as if we had many crime sprees here in Irvine. So, my interest was piqued.

  “Good afternoon, and welcome to the show, Sam,” Arthur said. “I want to point out to our listeners that 'Sam' isn't our detective's real name; he needs to remain anonymous since he is working undercover, and if his identity is discovered, that would put Sam in serious danger.”

  “That's true, Arthur,” said the man. “I deal with some very unsavory people on a daily basis.”

  “And that, ladies and gents, is why we've also put a filter on Sam's voice. He doesn't actually sound like Darth Vader in real life.”

  I chuckled at that. The guy did sound a lot like Darth Vader was coming through my speakers.

  “Unfortunately, no, I don't,” Sam commented with a laugh. “But how cool would it be if I did?”

  “Well, why don't we get started? First of all, thanks for coming on the show today, we really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to be here with us.”

  “Not at all, Arthur. The residents of Irvine need to know what's happening behind closed doors in this town, and some of it ain't pretty… it ain't pretty at all.”

  “What exactly is going on here in Irvine that's got you working undercover?”

  “I’m afraid we've got a problem here, Arthur. No, not just a problem: a crisis. And I'm not exaggerating when I say that. We have a serious, serious problem affecting our youth,” Sam said.

  “What is this problem?” Arthur asked.

  “Drugs. Local high schools – and middle schools as well – are riddled with a new drug that's been sweeping across Southern California.”

  “What are we talking here, Sam? Simple pot, or cocaine, or is it something as bad as meth or heroin?” the talk show host questioned.

  “While those remain problem drugs not only here but across the entire United States, what we've got here is something entirely new. The kids are calling it Rocket because it gets you very high very quickly. We're fairly confident it's being cooked up in a mobile lab out in the desert or perhaps up in the mountains, as distribution seems to be limited to Southern California. Although, it's starting to spread to other parts of California, and it won't be long before it crosses state lines and makes its way into other states.”

  “Tell us more about the drug itself,” Arthur urged. “What does it look like? What effect does it have? Who's using it? What are the dangers?”

  “Well, Arthur. It's a blue powder, and what makes it dangerous is how quickly it's absorbed by the body – hence the name Rocket. You don't have to snort it; you can ingest it in all sorts of ways. It's tasteless, so it can just be mixed into soda and drank. The effects, which kick in within a minute or two, are feelings of euphoria, extremely lowered inhibitions, mild hallucinations and slowed reflexes and motor skills. The side effects are terrible, though. Not only does it create intense cravings for more – which, of course, leads to addiction – it physically eats away the insides of the user. It's highly acidic in nature, and contains a number of extremely harmful substances that should not, under any circumstances, be inside the human body.”

  “Gosh, that sounds terrifying! How widespread is the use and distribution of this drug?”

  “Like I said, it's worming its way into all of the local high schools, and—”

  I switched stations. Teenage drug use was far too depressing to think about. With kids as young as junior high students getting into this sort of stuff, I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with the world. I couldn't bear to think of the kids at my daycare getting into this sort of stuff in a few years when some of them headed to middle school. I'd always had a great fondness for kids, and I really loved the little tykes at my daycare, even if they could be something of a handful sometimes.

  I pulled into the parking lot of the local grocer and went in to pick up a few items I needed. After a quick trip down the aisles, I went and stood in line at a register. It appeared that only two checkout counters were working. I took out my phone to check up on Facebook, but before I could, a familiar voice interrupted me.

  “Vivienne Andrews, how lovely to see you!”

  I knew the voice at once. My neighbor, Mrs. Joan Dobbins — a sweet older lady who did little else but sit on her porch with her Maltese poodle, Fluffy, and observe the comings and goings of our neighborhood from sunrise to sunset and often beyond.

  “Hi, Mrs. Dobbins,” I said with a smile. “It's nice to see you, too.”

  “I love what you've done with your hair. It's still nice and long, but it looks so stylish now! And you've always had the loveliest blonde hair.”

  “Thank you,” I said with an appreciative smile. “I just had it layered and textured a little. I've always liked this length, just down around my shoulder blades.”

  “It really does suit you. I couldn't stand having long hair myself, but my old Frank, bless his heart, he loved my long hair when I was young, so I kept it long for him. When he passed 22 years ago, though, the first thing I did was cut it, and it's been short ever since!”

  I laughed politely – it wasn't the first time I'd heard that story.

  “I don't think I'll cut mine anytime soon,” I said, hoping that the line would move a little faster. Mrs. Dobbins was nice enough, but she could talk until she was blue in the face and you were too.

  “You shouldn't cut it, dear; you look absolutely stunning. Why, I don't know why some man hasn't come and swept you off your feet yet. They must be beating down your door.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” I mumbled, not wanting to get on the topic with her. Like her story, it wasn’t the first time. “I'm just so busy with the daycare, and I've got those repairs to take care of around the house—”

  She cut me off. “And that's why you need a good man by your side, Vivienne!”

  I chuckled, somewhat uncomfortably. “I guess so,” I mumbled. Why wasn't this line moving?

  “Speaking of men, there's a new fellow that moved in across the road from us this past weekend while you were out of town.”

  That piqued my interest. The house across the street had been empty for months.

  “Really? The Sanchez place?”

  “That's right – someone's finally bought it. And I tell you what, between you and me, he's quite a looker! You should go say hello to him. Maybe bake him a pie. You know, offer a good neighborly welcome,” she said with a wink and a smile.

  I laughed. “I thought you said you wanted me to welcome him to the neighborhood. You’ve obviously never eaten any pie I’ve tried to bake,” I smiled at her.

  “Well, how about I bake the pie for you, and then you go across the street and give it to him?”

  I laughed. “We'll see about that. So, I know you have the scoop. What’s his story?”

  “He's the new principal of that high school three blocks away, what's it called again?” she asked.

  “JFK High.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  I felt somewhat disappointed; if he was the principal, that meant he'd be a good bit older than me. Most
likely in his 40s or 50s. Not that I was interested or anything, but it might be nice to have someone close to my own age move in near me. I'd been in Irvine for two years now, but still only had a handful of friends, none of whom lived in my neighborhood.

  “Well, I actually thought he was just a teacher until I spoke to him. He's so young for a principal,” Mrs. Dobbins said, rummaging around in her purse for something.

  My interest was officially piqued again.

  “Really? And just how old is he?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested. If I seemed too interested, Mrs. Dobbins would make it her mission to bake me a pie a week until she was satisfied we were either going to get married, or one of us was batting for the other team.

  “He's only 32. Would you believe it, just 32 years old and already the principal of a high school?”

  “That is surprising,” I remarked. “I guess he knows his stuff.”

  “I guess he does. And like I said, he's a right handsome fella, too. And he seems like such a nice, polite young man. I'm more than happy to bake a nice blueberry pie if you'd like to take it over to him. And I promise that your secret will be safe with me. He'll never find out that it wasn't you who baked the pie!”

  I laughed. “Maybe I'll take you up on that offer, Mrs. Dobbins, but not right away.”

  The line had finally moved, and I was able to start loading my items up onto the checkout counter while the person in front of me was busy getting their total added up.

  “Well, looks like I've gotta sort this out now, Mrs. Dobbins,” I said to her. “It's been nice chatting with you. I'll see you later, I imagine. I have some stuff to do in my yard.”

  “And I'll be on the porch with Fluffy, enjoying a nice iced tea. Would you like me to make extra for you if you're going to be out in your yard in this heat? There's nothing like a good iced tea on a warm summer evening.”

  “If you've got any to spare, I might take you up on that offer later,” I said with a smile. “Thanks, Mrs. Dobbins. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

 

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