drdaddy

by Sullivan, Piper

  "And when it's over I get my job back? If this arrangement is going to cost me my bread and butter, I refuse to accept."

  "Like I said, your job is safe. You can start again as soon as this is over."

  How would she ever face the other staff when she returned? Everyone would be under the impression that they were an item, and if she just waltzed in and took over again, it will raise a few brows. Or worse, they would think Justin dumped her and that’s why she was back at work. She mentally groaned at the potential pitying looks that would be coming her way. But that was a bridge she would cross when she got there. There was always the slightest chance that she could find another job and eventually leave for good.

  "Do you have any rules?" she asked.

  Justin shifted in his seat and turned to look at her. She was paler than usual, and his gut twisted slightly, but in the long run he knew it will all work out.

  "A few, firstly we have to stay in the same house. Same house... not the same bed," he said, seeing her eyes widen. "It gives more credibility to the relationship."

  "Makes sense, what else?"

  "You can't be involved with anyone else romantically during the time that we are together, I'm sure you can imagine why," he said.

  She nodded, “Obviously.”

  "One more thing, you have to wear a ring."

  She raised her brows and rolled her eyes, “Seriously I don’t think wearing a ring or not would make any difference.”

  “Of course it would, what man in his right mind would have a fiancée who doesn’t wear a ring? It’s like a promise of commitment or whatever you want to call it. The first thing anyone looks at is the ring when you tell them you’re engaged.”

  She was modest, and he liked that about her. In all the time he got to know her, working with her, she was never one for flashy outfits and daily trips to a hair salon or a spa. Unlike the women he had dated in the past, all of which were always out to wear the most expensive outfits, drive the flashiest cars and owned shoes that would make Prada look like an outback retail store.

  "Well in that case I have no problem switching fingers,” she said as she pried her birthstone ring from her right ring finger and put it on her left. It was a cute little piece of jewelry, with a small stone stacked on a band that looked like twined silver, the stone could pass as a diamond to the naked eye, but it was not what he had in mind.

  “No sweetheart, that won’t do,” he leaned over and instructed his driver to take a detour to Harry Winston’s. If he was going to make this work, it was going to have to include all the bells and whistles.

  Chapter 3

  Jennifer had never had any reason before to venture into Harry Winston. She knew that it was a jewelry shop but that was about it. And now she was standing, hand-in-hand with her boss looking at rings. He had looked over four, five, six karat stones asking her opinion on all of them. Only the commitment of her highest level acting skills had kept her from exclaiming loudly that he would be out of his mind to purchase one of those. It was a complete waste of money considering the fact that she’ll only wear it for a few months.

  She tried her hardest to remain the calm and serene fiancée as they looked over rings that were more expensive than several years of her salary. She pulled out her best loving gazes and delighted faces in the shop, disguising her real feelings of utter shock.

  After finally deciding on a ring that he wanted, and she simply agreeing with, they made their way out of the store. She felt fake, used and excited all at the same time. The kaleidoscope of emotions that flooded her was almost too much.

  "Could you not have taken one of the less extravagant rings? Trying to impress people with material things is just a show boat.”

  "Jennifer, please. The ring is nothing. I want to buy one. I’ll send for it to be collected as soon as it’s been resized and then we can make it official,” he said as he opened the door for her.

  Jennifer slumped back in her seat and sighed. The words ‘make it official’ rang like loud church bells in her mind and she felt a headache slowly creeping up on her. When this is all over she’ll probably be tainted beyond repair, and if she does eventually meet someone, the lie will roll over and over and over. She would always be known as the one who was once engaged. She rubbed the back of her neck and forced herself to calm down. She can do this, she told herself and from somewhere deep down she found the courage to raise her chin and take on the challenge.

  "Just by the way… not to rain on your parade or anything, the ring is beautiful and you have great taste but I think a family heirloom engagement ring would impress your future wife a lot more, just saying."

  "Oh really?" he asked, amused.

  "It’s much more sentimental, so if you ever do decide to propose for real, consider that as a winner.”

  "My mother would sooner eat herself than part with Gran’s old jewelry," he said lightly.

  "Your parents are still happily married?" she asked curiously. She knew Justin well enough but he had never made any mention of his parents.

  "Yes, they will want to talk to you by the way. My mother would never forgive me if she heard about this in the news before we told her."

  Great! She thought as she mentally constructed a list of things to conclude to make this work.

  1.Tell the parents

  2.Tell the news

  3.Tell the employees

  4.Pretend ALL the time

  5.Sign the deal

  6.Break off the engagement

  She was sure that the list was going to grow sooner or later, but for now, those were the points she collected.

  "Are they going to get the public or private version of the story?" Jennifer asked.

  "I don't know yet," he admitted. "Your parents will probably want to know as well. Do they live in the city?"

  "No. I moved here on my own. My mother and stepfather live in North Carolina."

  "I didn't know you were from the South."

  Jennifer burst out laughing and shook her head, what they knew about each other was minimal, she knew how he liked his coffee, what color ties he preferred, how he liked his eggs and steak. But those were minor details anyone could pick up on in one day. There was a lot more they had to learn about each other in order to look like the ideal couple.

  "If you want people to believe we are about to get married there's a number of questions about me you have to be able to answer. I can type them up and send them to you to read at your leisure," she said and shrugged.

  Justin chuckled, "That won't be necessary. We have today and tomorrow to get to know each other better. I'm not completely clueless."

  "Yeah?" Jennifer sat up. "What's my middle name?"

  "Mae. What's mine?" he laughed.

  "Franklin. When is my birthday?"

  "November 18th. When is mine?"

  "Close, it’s November 16th. Yours is December 31st.”

  Surprised that he was one step ahead of her, she laughed, "Okay then, so how did we fall in love?"

  He looked at her, and smirked, “In my office, you dropped a pencil and bent to pick it up, and I liked what I saw.”

  This time Jennifer couldn’t help herself, the mental image of her bent over and him staring at her backside was almost too funny to even consider.

  "God no, we’ll have to come up with something random and corny. I suppose while working together, we were simply on the same wavelength and it was only a matter of time before you realized you couldn’t live without me,” she said and smirked.

  "Or…” he started, “Your coffee was too good to resist, and you won me over with a cup and a donut?”

  “Lame,” she giggled. "Okay, we can come up with something later. Why is this first that anybody is going to hear of me?"

  He looked thoughtful at that. "So how did you end up here in the city?" he asked.

  "I needed a break from home life. I was taking care of my father and going through the process of moving him into assisted living, and after that I figured it
was time to start afresh."

  "I’m sorry to hear that, it must have been hard to put him in a home,” he said and rested his hand on hers.

  She didn’t pull away; his touch was gentle and he showed genuine sympathy. She looked down at their hands for a second then smiled softly.

  "He has dementia. I go and see him every weekend I can, but most of the time he hardly knows who I am," she said.

  "I'm sorry. I can't imagine how difficult that is for you," he said again.

  "Don't worry about it," she said dismissively. "Where are we going?"

  "I’m taking you home, so that you can settle in.”

  “But I have work to finish and hand over to the temp,” she said nervously.

  It was all happening too fast, first a yes, then a ring, now she’s moving in, all in one day.

  “That’s all taken care of, we need to get the ball rolling, the dinner is Friday evening, and by then we need it all set up.”

  "I don't have any of my things," she protested.

  "Use the rest of the day to buy new things. Ryan will take you where you need to go."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Just drop me off at home so I can pack."

  "Jennifer, I'm offering. I'll cover the costs. Buy whatever you want."

  "What's wrong with the clothes I wear?" she asked irritably.

  Surely he wasn’t going to expect her to transform completely? she still had the right to cling to who she really was. Pretences aside, she was still Jennifer.

  "Nothing…" he started.

  "Then let me go home, I know where you live. I'll be there by this afternoon.”

  "There is nothing in your house that you can't purchase something new of."

  Seriously! Why was he so demanding and so impatient? It would take her an hour at most to pack, and at least that way she will have the last few minutes of her freedom without him hovering.

  "I have to tell my landlord I am going to be away. I have to turn the refrigerator off. I have to organize for my mail to be delivered to a different address. I have things I need to take care of before moving anywhere, and don't tell me that you can hire people to do them for me."

  Justin closed his eyes and sighed and Jennifer smiled inwardly. He was not going to run her life for her.

  "Five o'clock. Be at my house by five o'clock," he said tersely. "We have a date."

  * * *

  Four-thirty, and Jennifer stood in front of the elevator in the upper-class apartment block. She had always known where Justin lived but she had never been here herself. She had packed modestly, figuring she would be able to go back to her apartment if she really needed to. Besides, Justin's offer to buy what she wanted was always an option. Since he was hell bent on turning her life upside down, maybe she should take advantage of some of his money after all.

  She shook her head thinking about the argument they had had. She didn't want to take clothes from him; the ring was already too much. She didn't want him to turn her into the kind of Fifth Avenue princess that he would ideally be suited to. That was not part of the deal. Pressing the 'PH' button in the elevator gave her a slight rush. What did the penthouse apartment of a billionaire look like on the inside? What would Justin look like when he wasn’t dressed up in his suit and tie?

  The elevator pinged as she reached the penthouse level and the door swooshed open, leading into a short corridor, with only one door ahead of her. She felt intimidated by the grandeur of it all. She raised her hand to knock, but it hit air as the door swung open.

  “Your impeccable time management is commendable,” he said as he stepped aside for her to enter.

  He was dressed in faded jeans and a black V-neck T, wearing no shoes. His hair was still wet, which meant he had time to shower. Jennifer took a steadying breath and inhaled his fresh scent as she passed him and her stomach flipped. Why did he have to be so good looking, why couldn’t he just have been an average guy that didn’t look like he belonged on some Men’s magazine cover, she thought as she placed her luggage on the floor.

  Being that high in the air meant he had no use for curtains. That further meant that natural light suffused the open, comfortable space of his home. His furnishings were surprisingly light, from the pine laminate floors, to the white of the walls and the upholstery of various creams and off whites. The living space was so big the von Trapp family could have comfortably called it home. It was bigger than a bachelor would have any use for.

  “Glad you made it on time, let me show you your room,” he said and picked up her suitcase.

  She nearly freaked out when she noticed one of her bra’s hanging out on the side; it was a black lacy bra. One thing she was always pedantic about was wearing comfortable but classy underwear. Her mom always used to insist that a woman’s underwear was her pride.

  “Uh… let me get that,” she said and reached for her suitcase, but Justin smirked and pulled it out of her reach.

  “I’ve got it,” he said and turned left out of the living room into the corridor, “This is my room,” he said pointing to the door on the left, “This is my study, where you’ll find me most of the time when I’m home, and this,” he said, “is your room.”

  Her room was a door down from his, which made her feel awkward but she tucked her emotions away. The room was beautiful, it looked like the rest of the place, perfect for a décor magazine, and in fact she’s almost sure she’s seen it before in a spread. The bed was queen sized, and the bedding was snow white, with embroidered leaves. She was almost too scared to sit on it in case she wrinkled it. At least the bedroom had curtains, which matched the linen. Other than a massive flat screen television that was mounted to the wall the walls were bare.

  “This room is beautiful,” she said smiling as she ran her fingers along the smooth surface of the dressing table.

  “Thank you,” he said and gestured to the door on the left, “That’s your bathroom, fully fitted with a bath and a shower.”

  Jennifer glanced into the bathroom and it literally took her breath away. Gleaming granite tops lined the one side of the bathroom; in the middle was a Jacuzzi sized tub. The shower had no walls or glass; it was an open shower with a decorative tiled floor. Against the wall was an electronic panel where you could regulate the temperature and dispense soap, shampoo and conditioner. White towels were neatly stacked on an open shelf.

  She stepped back into the room and smiled awkwardly, it felt as if her cheeks were jumping and she bit the inside of her lip. She had never ever been in such a grand place, not even when she stayed in the Hilton Hotel back when she visited Durban, in South Africa just after she finished college.

  Justin looked at her curiously and then opened the closet door, “I’ve have taken the liberty of getting you an evening dress for dinner.”

  Jennifer looked at the champagne colored dress. She looked at the tag and smiled, he had been smart enough not to leave the price on it, but he definitely knew her dress size. The name 'Elie Saab' didn't mean too much to her but she knew it meant the dress was foreign-made and expensive.

  “You really didn’t have to go through all of this,” she said and closed the closet door, “I have clothes.”

  “I know, but I thought I’d treat you to a new dress.”

  Jennifer bit back a sneer. It’s already starting, Justin wasn’t happy with an average looking plane ol’Jane, and he was slowly going to try and transform her to fit into his glamorous life. It was something she was going to have to accept, and at least it would only be for a few months. Before she knew it, she would be back in her apartment with her cat Ratchet. At least she was able to get her neighbor to babysit Ratchet while she was pretending to be Miss Priss, and she had promised to visit him daily if possible.

  “I’ll let you get ready,” he said and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  Click here to read the rest of this story

  Convicted

  Jason

  Clink!

  I glanced behind me at the finality o
f the sound as the security gate of Kenworth maximum security prison slid into place. After eight long years, with two years suspended service, I was finally on the other side. A little older, a little wiser, and a hell of a lot more jaded. If the judge had worried about the threat I had posed to society all those years ago, he had no idea what I was capable of now.

  I was only twenty-two years old, a man or rather a boy, with future plans when I was tried and found guilty for my crime. My age hadn’t given me any reprieve. In fact, it had made me a walking target. It didn’t matter that I was in for involuntary manslaughter. My fellow inmates took one look at the baby face and scrawny frame and only saw fresh meat.

  That first night had been hell. I barely made it out with my life. A bruised liver, four cracked ribs, a myriad of cuts, and a broken jaw had put me in the infirmary for six weeks.

  Battered and bruised, with my jaw wired shut, I lay there wishing someone would come finish the job. But to my dismay, no one came. The ribs healed, and the bruises faded; physically I recovered, but my soul was forever tainted and bruised.

  The pretentious state doctor even had the gall to say, I wouldn’t have any lasting effects from the incident. But apparently, the four-inch scar that ran diagonally down over my right eye and down to the corner of my mouth, made me look less like a pampered princess and more like a hard-core criminal to be feared by my inmates. I had damn near lost my eyesight. If I hadn’t tripped over a crate and fallen backward, the blade would have sliced through more than just my brow and cheek. It would have taken my eye with it. It was that defining moment, as the bandages came off and the doctor smirked at me, as if I was a no-good piece of trash, that I realized I was truly on my own.

  The assault continued, throughout most of my sentence, and although the incidents that followed weren’t even close to the extent of the first one, I feared for my life day in and day out. Closer to my release, Warden Saunders took pity on me and offered me six months of solitary confinement. I eagerly accepted.

  I didn’t spend those six months in solitary confinement feeling sorry for myself, hell no! Instead, I focused on getting stronger, meaner and craftier. When I was locked in my cell, I spent every waking hour working out, using my own body-weight as resistance. I was only allowed outside for one hour a day, but I made the most of it, using the gym equipment, come rain or sunshine, mentally and physically preparing myself for the day I walked out of this god forsaken place.