Stroked by my Dad's Best Friend_A Billionaire Secret Baby Romance

by Natasha Spencer

  “Well, you can tell me anyways.” He kept his voice calm and neutral. She didn’t feel pressured by it and that reassured her for a moment. His eyes showed obvious concern.

  “I’m not sure I want to.” Candice looked away from Alex. She didn’t want to meet his gaze. She worried that looking at him would make her cry even more. He’d been very patient and kind with her. Things had happened fast between the two, and Candice wanted to hold her cards close to her chest still. She didn’t want to expose herself too much to him yet.

  “Okay… Well, if you want to tell me, I’ll listen.” Alex gently rubbed her shoulder.

  Candice closed her eyes. She wanted to fall back to sleep. She wanted to feel the warmth of the covers. She wanted to feel the softness of Alex’s thousand-thread Egyptian sheets again. Alex had money. She could tell. He didn’t flaunt it, but he didn’t work either. She’d found out how her father and Alex had met from her mother the night before last. Alex brought one of his cars to the shop. Her father had fixed it. The two had chatted and then became good friends. Alex obviously had money, but her father wanted for nothing. His grass was green, he liked his home, and Alex appreciated the friendship. Money couldn’t solve Candice’s problems though. Her problem had a name and its name was Mitch.

  “I think I need to go home,” Candice said. She sat up in the bed, and then threw the covers off.

  “Hey, is everything okay?” Alex picked up the tissues from the bedside and threw them away in the bathroom. He walked out of the bathroom as Candice walked in.

  “It’s just, just this thing at home.” Candice said. She turned on the shower. She got under it and felt it on her skin. She took Alex’s loofah and scrubbed her body.

  “If you don’t talk to me, I can’t help you,” Alex said. He stood outside the shower. He’d put on boxers. “Is this something about me? Is it about your dad? Your mom?”

  “No. No. And no,” Candice said. She stepped out of the shower and began to dry off. She walked into the bedroom and found her clothes. The nightmare had spurred her on. She couldn’t wait any longer. She had to go home. She had to confront the problem.

  “Can we talk?” Alex said. He put his hands on the bathroom sink to steady himself. He was visibly upset. He didn’t know what was going on and seemed confused by the situation.

  “Listen, Alex, you’re great. You’re sensitive, you’re handsome, you’re well off. Fuck, I don’t know why I’m doing this right now, but I have problems back in Oakland. I need to figure it out. I need to take care of it,” Candice said. She started to cry. Tears began to flood down her face. Her face turned red and her shoulders heaved up and down like a boat on erratic waters.

  Alex moved forward, and Candice didn’t resist when he put his arms around her. He held her tight. Her breathing slowed down, and eventually Candice’s tears slowed as well. The storm of emotions had subsided and became a smooth sea, but there was still a violent undercurrent. Candice could feel it. She knew she had to do something.

  Candice put her arms around Alex. She held him close. The scent of his body filled her nostrils. He still had a woodsy smell to him. Fresh pine and leaves. He smelled like autumn. She liked it. It calmed her. It reminded her of better times. It gave her a feeling of nostalgia and comfort. There was security in his arms.

  “You going to be okay,” Alex said. His words were at once a statement and a question. “If there’s anything I can do for you…”

  “I know,” Candice said. “I know. You’ll help me.”

  “I will.”

  “Thank you. I should get going.”

  “Okay,” Alex said. He let go of her, ending the embrace. “Will you let me know when you get to Oakland and what’s going on when you get there?”

  “Sure,” Candice nodded. She put on her clothes and found her keys. “Listen, I had a great time. It’s just this other thing. I don’t even want to talk about it.”

  “It’s okay,” Alex replied. “I can wait.”

  “Thanks, Alex.”

  It was Alex’s turn to nod. He watched as she walked out the door of his place. He walked to the front lawn and watched as she got into her car and turned the ignition. She pulled away.

  The drive back to her parents’ house took twenty minutes. The highway didn’t have much traffic. She listened to the radio on the way, trying to distract herself for the looming confrontation that she knew she would need to have with Mitch. She didn’t know how to confront him though or what to say. She just knew that she had to say something.

  When she got back to her house, her father was in the driveway working on a car. He nodded at her and wiped his hand on a dirty rag. His hands were greased black with oil.

  “How are you?” he said to her.

  “Yeah, all right. Listen, I think I’m gonna go back to Oakland,” Candice told her dad. She walked into the house and into her old bedroom.

  Her father followed her inside and leaned on the bedroom door’s frame. He watched as she packed her clothes. She was stuffing her clothes in quickly. She picked up her phone and began searching for the soonest flight back to Oakland.

  “This about that guy?” her father said.

  Candice nodded. She didn’t want to look at her father. She didn’t know what he would say, and she didn’t know what she should say to him.

  “Well,” her father said, “I hope you give him what he fucking deserves. Make sure you don’t get caught.” He rapped his knuckles on the doorframe and walked back outside. “Let me know if you need a ride to the airport,” he yelled.

  “Thanks, Dad. Actually, I’ll take you up on that,” Candice yelled back.

  “When do you want to go?” he hollered.

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  Candice could hear him grunt, and in fifteen minutes’ time she’d booked her return ticket to Oakland and had her suitcase all set. She messaged Tiffany to meet her at the airport.

  You sure you want to come back already? Tiffany wrote back right away.

  I am. Pick me up at the airport please, Candice wrote back.

  Sure, Tiffany answered.

  The car ride to the airport didn’t have much back and forth between Candice and her father. Her father put on the radio and the two sat in silence most of the way. They got stuck in a small amount of traffic, and her father complained for a moment but otherwise said nothing. When they got to the airport, he parked and helped Candice take out her suitcase. He hugged her.

  “Don’t worry about your mom. I’ll talk to her. You take care of yourself and give ’em hell,” he said.

  “Thanks, Dad, I will,” Candice replied. A small smile crept across her face.

  “I’m sure everything will turn out all right,” he said. He clapped her shoulder and got in his car. “Make sure to let me know that you landed safely… And when you’ve taken care of that other stuff, let me know about that too.”

  Her father got into his car and started it. He turned on the radio and Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walking” started to blast out. He winked at his daughter and pulled away.

  Candice pivoted on her heel and started to whistle the song as she walked into the terminal. Her father having her back meant a lot to her. She checked in for her flight, and after a forty-minute wait, she boarded. The flight was short, but Candice tried to get some sleep. She had a hard time of it. While her father had instilled some confidence in her, she couldn’t shake the anxiety. She hadn’t checked her email yet, she hadn’t been updated about the situation at home, but she knew that she would have to face something. Going to Los Angeles had been running away. She was going back to Oakland to face things head on.

  The plane landed. She jolted a little in her seat and it took a while to empty out of the plane. She got out of the terminal, and there was Tiffany waiting for her as promised. Her friend was wearing her running clothes.

  “I just got back from a run,” Tiffany said. “This time it was eight miles.”

  The two pulled out of the airport and
headed to Oakland. There was a bit of traffic, especially leading to the Bay Bridge. As the two sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic, Tiffany began to fidget with the radio dials. She kept switching songs and increased then decreased the volume.

  “What’s up?” Candice finally said.

  “Did you check your email?” Tiffany asked.

  “No.”

  “You won’t like it much,” Tiffany replied.

  “I’ll look now.”

  Candice finally went to her phone and looked at her email. There was a collection of emails from her colleagues. Most of them were run of the mill. She hadn’t posted that she would be out of the office. People were checking up on her work. There was one from Tim. She opened it and read it.

  Candice,

  Hey unfortunately we can’t substantiate your claims. While it appears that there have been a series of negative criticisms about your performance, we need to take these seriously. We will be conducting a review of your work here at the company. I’ll have Shaudi reach out to you for further details.

  -Tim

  “Fucking bastard,” Candice said aloud. He was getting pushed around by an internet bully. He’d done no research into the accusations and instead was pushing out Candice.

  “Told you, you wouldn’t like it,” Tiffany said. “I talked to Shaudi a little. She said she would look into things as well.”

  Candice scrolled through her phone and found one from Shaudi.

  Candice,

  Hey, I’m really sorry about everything. I’m sorry about this situation and I’m sorry about Tim. There isn’t anything I can do to excuse his actions. I think he is clearly in the wrong here. We are giving you the week off work, which I think is already happening (I talked to Tiffany) while we figure things out. I’m having people look into it as we speak. Tim is writing you off. I won’t do that.

  Sincerely,

  Shaudi

  “Well the one from Shaudi is a little better,” Candice said. “But nothing really concrete.”

  “What can we do though?” Tiffany said.

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought of it, to be honest. I just knew that I had to come back to Oakland and figure things out.”

  “Okay. Well, let’s go back to your place and sort things out then. We can talk for a while there. Do you have spare clothes? I want to take a shower. I feel so stinky,” Tiffany said.

  “No worries. I have some clothes that will fit you,” Candice said. The two were on the Bay Bridge and Candice could see the setting sun. It gave the water an orange glow. She smiled. It felt good to be home. There were boats in the harbor and she could see the cranes of the Oakland port moving around. They picked up large shipping containers and moved them around. The port was one of the largest in Northern California and Candice had always enjoyed the iconic cranes.

  “Sounds like a plan then,” Tiffany said. Tiffany paused for a moment and then looked at her friend. “So did you see Alex?”

  “You just want the dirt,” Candice said. She blushed and her friend laughed.

  “You saw him. You did the dirt,” Tiffany said laughing. “Listen, there is nothing wrong with that. What’s his place like?”

  “It’s nice. I thought I told you about it last time.”

  “No, you just told me about what you did. I mean this is twice in a couple weeks, a month or so, right. Things are getting S-E-R-I-O-U-S,” she spelled.

  “You’re such a shit,” Candice said.

  “What? I’m not the one boning my dad’s best friend.”

  “Well, did I mention he’s well off?”

  “Oh, no you didn’t.”

  “Well, I didn’t think it was really that big of a deal and then when I was at his house this time I noticed how much everything cost. The thread count on his sheets was basically a billion.”

  “Oh, so you fucking an older billionaire now?”

  “Maybe,” Candice said. She blushed and then looked out of the window. They were fast approaching the exit to West Oakland.

  “Anyways, how was it?” Tiffany said.

  “Yeah, it was good. He’s very experienced.”

  “Get it girl,” Tiffany said.

  Candice laughed and smiled. The two turned onto Candice’s street.

  “Oh, fuck,” Candice said.

  “What?” Tiffany replied. She continued to drive and had slowed down to begin to look for parking.

  “Keep driving,” Candice replied. She sunk down in her seat.

  “What?”

  “That’s Mitch,” Candice said. “He’s sitting at my fucking door.”

  “Oh, shit,” Tiffany said. She kept driving by. “He’s never seen my car before has he?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Mitch was sitting at Candice’s door. His eyes were vacant and empty. As the two drove past him, he looked at the car and then looked back at Candice’s door. He looked down at his feet and looked again at the door. He got up from his seat and began knocking on the door. His skin was white and he was dressed in tattered jeans. More than a few days’ growth of stubble was on his face, and his eyes, the only color to him, were bloodshot red. Tiffany continued to drive and could hear him pounding on the door from the end of the street. Tiffany stopped at a stop sign a block away from Candice’s house.

  “Holy fuck,” Tiffany said.

  “Yeah. No shit. What the fuck is he doing here?”

  “He’s fucking crazy,” Tiffany said.

  “No shit,” Candice said. She was breathing heavily. She didn’t know what she should do. She looked at her phone. She had a series of phone calls from an unknown number. “Fuck, I think he is calling me.”

  “What do you want to do?” Tiffany said.

  “Give me a minute. Let me think about this,” Candice said. She took a few big breaths. This was out of control. She had thought that she’d be able to go home and think things over, then confront Mitch. Her timeline was being pushed up, way up.

  She looked out the window of Tiffany’s car. West Oakland hadn’t changed much in the last few days. Some places still looked worn and beaten. A new condo complex was being constructed. A homeless man with a shopping cart pushed his belongings down the street.

  “Fuck this. He’s at my place. Let’s go to his,” Candice said.

  “What?”

  “His place is near the taco truck by Lake Merritt.”

  “Uh, okay,” Tiffany said. She started the car and began pulling away.

  “This may just piss him off, but what else can I do? The cops won’t help. He’s basically getting me fired from my job. Fuck him,” Candice said. Her words were hot with anger but her face was cold and chilly.

  “So what are we going to do when we get there?”

  “You’ll pull over and I’ll go in,” Candice said.

  The drive to Mitch’s apartment was silent. Tiffany didn’t know what to say to her friend, and Candice didn’t know what to say either. She wasn’t really sure what she would do, but she knew that going home wasn’t safe. Tiffany parked in front of the taco truck. There was a little line.

  “You want a burrito?” Tiffany said.

  “Uh, sure. I’m going to walk over to the house,” Candice said. “It’s right over there.”

  “Okay. Should I call you or something when I get the burrito?”

  “Sure, or just walk over.”

  Tiffany nodded and got in line.

  Candice walked across the street and up to Mitch’s apartment. It was an old building that was set away from the street. Candice had been to it enough times to remember it and to remember that Mitch always kept his keys under the rug because he couldn’t remember them usually. She picked up the old brown rug in front of his door and got the key. She opened the door and walked in. He had a computer that was set up near the door. It hummed with life. She pressed the spacebar, and the screensaver disappeared. The computer came to life showing a Reddit page about the red pill. Multiple tabs were open to different threads about Pepe the Frog, red
pill Reddit threads, and other sites. She looked at it for a moment and checked the history. She scrolled through it and was able to find the emails that Mitch had sent to her boss. She copied them and sent them to Shaudi, Tiffany, and herself.

  Her phone buzzed. It was from an unknown number. She took a deep breath.

  “Hello,” Candice said.

  “Why won’t you talk to me?” Mitch said. His voice was a low whine.

  “You emailed my work and complained about me. You are trying to get me fired.”

  “You aborted our baby,” Mitch said.

  “Get over it, Mitch. It’s my body. I get to choose. It’s not like we were in a relationship. I would come over and have tepid sex with you every once in a while, and you would talk about pizza.”

  “Pizza is important to me,” Mitch said.

  “That’s great. Maybe you should open a pizzeria,” Candice said.

  “When will you be home?”

  “Why?” Candice said. She stood up. She looked around the room. There was the sofa, his old bed, and his shrine to pizza.

  “We need to talk,” Mitch said.

  “What is there to talk about?” Candice said.

  “You murdered my baby,” Mitch yelled into the phone.

  Candice took down one of the framed pizza boxes and broke it. “You won’t get anywhere with that sort of talk,” Candice said. She stepped on the frame. The glass crunched.

  “What do you mean?” Mitch screamed. “You killed my son.”

  Candice took down one of his framed articles and opened the door. She threw the frame outside. The frame shattered apart.

  “What was that noise?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What the fuck are you doing, you bitch?” Mitch said.

  “Me? Nothing,” Candice replied. She looked at the computer and unplugged it. She took the monitor in one hand. It was a little hard to carry while keeping her other hand to the phone.

  “Listen. I wasn’t trying to get you fired. I just had to let you know I was serious.”

  “Oh. Okay, I understand. I want you to know that I am serious too,” Candice replied. She dropped the monitor on the ground. The screen shattered into a million pieces and made a resounding crash.