Fake Marrying Her Dad's Best Friend

by Alyse Zaftig

  "Alfred?"

  "It's a startup that sort of gives you a part-time butler."

  "Damn," she says. "Dad has a housekeeping service, but he says that I have to learn to do things for myself."

  "I don't have a lot of time to clean up." I shrug. "I would rather spend time with Danny than try to drive to and from the dry-cleaners."

  "I guess that makes sense," she says, hugging the towel tighter.

  "I'll see you tonight," I say. And I'm grabbing my briefcase and out the door.

  Chapter 12

  Spit Bubbles

  Elia

  I'm still naked in the bedroom when I hear the front door close. I can hear sounds coming from the baby monitor. Danny is awake. I rush down the stairs, pull on clothes, and run back upstairs, panting. Danny is starting to scream as if nobody is with him.

  "Shh, baby," I say. I pull him out of his crib and hold him close. "Time for breakfast, huh?"

  There's snot dripping out of his nose. He's the picture of misery. I feel like a terrible human being, even though I haven't even had a chance to brush my teeth today.

  "Let's get you a bottle," I tell him, carefully walking downstairs with him. I pop him into a freestanding high chair and make sure that it's far away from the table. The leading cause of emergency room visits for babies under one year of age is fractured skulls from the wrong kind of high chair. I have zero desire to take Danny to the emergency room. I mix the formula and water together, letting the baby have a bottle that's slightly warmer than room temperature. He wrinkles his nose as the rush job but puts up with it.

  While's he's occupied, I run for my toothbrush and brush my teeth in the kitchen, keeping an eye on Danny. When two minutes are up, I go back to my bathroom and spit before using some mouthwash. The second that I'm not in the room, I hear a thunk which makes my heart miss a beat. I skid straight back into the kitchen only to find that he's thrown his bottle on the floor, where it's leaking.

  "Why'd you throw it?" I ask Danny. He blows some spit bubbles and looks mad. I guess today isn't going to be as easy as yesterday.

  By six in the evening, I'm dragging ass. Nothing I did today pleased my little tyrant. He was unhappy every second of the day, and I just can't understand why. I remember now that I haven't given him the colic solution that Camilla gave me the recipe for. So while waiting for Jeff to come home, I realize I have to go to the store. I have no idea when he'll be home, so I need to take Danny with me. I hunt for a stroller in the garage. There's a giant one that kind of resembles a tank.

  "Looks like we're walking to the grocery store, buddy," I say to Danny. He kicks his legs and fights me as I try to strap him in, so it takes me a few minutes. His face is getting red from temper. I pray that Jeff will be home soon. I realize that Danny might be cranky because he hasn't seen Jeff today yet.

  We walk over to the nearest Target. I spend a lot of time in the spice and herbal medicine sections. Finally, I have all the components. It sort of reminds me of chemistry class. I pay and I push Danny home with the grocery bag tied to the sturdy big handle in the back. I don't think that a recipe from a midwife would actively harm the baby, so I put together the recipe and pray for the best while Danny is in the Pack n Play.

  When it's finally done, I have to let it cool. But Danny is starting to scream again, so I pop some ice cubes into the solution to help it cool down faster. I pull him out of the playpen and pop him into the high chair.

  "Let's try this out and see if it works, okay?"

  I strain the solution and come up with sort of murky looking liquid. I pop it into a bottle and offer it to Danny, putting the nipple in his mouth. To my great relief, he doesn't spit it out or bat it away. He's sucking on it as if it's just the same as formula.

  I can watch him visibly relax. Sometimes, a baby will get sleepy when he or she is drinking milk. Whatever's happening with Danny has about two times the impact. His sucking gets a little sluggish. His eyes droop a lot. I pull the bottle out of his little hands. He yawns hard. I can see the greenish tint to his tongue. I pray that whatever it was is okay.

  "Let's put you in your crib, okay?" I smell his diaper and feel it. He's peed, but I don't smell poop. I carry him upstairs, change him, and put him in the crib. He's normally a little crankier when he feels the cold air despite the towel that I put on him when I'm changing him. But he seems pretty Zen right now. I put him in the crib and he's all the way out.

  Maybe I should make that recipe every day. I hear the front door open. After turning on the baby monitor, I quickly get out of Danny's room and skip down the stairs.

  "What did you cook? It looks like a healthy shake or something." Jeff shudders in mock disgust.

  "There's a midwife's recipe to help with colic," I say.

  Jeff raises his eyebrows at me. "And did it work?"

  "It put Danny to sleep. It remains to be seen if it helps."

  "Did you buy the ingredients yourself?"

  "Yeah." He sorts through the Target bags and puts the receipt into his pants pocket.

  "I'll reimburse you for the cost in your next paycheck."

  That's right. I'm his employee.

  "Sounds good." I wish I could just wave it off, but he knows that I'm about to go to college. I have a trust fund that I get when I graduate, but until then, I'm just your average broke college student. My dad is paying for my tuition, fees, and room and board, but that's it. I'm paying for my own books and anything else, which is why I have a summer job.

  I take a deep breath. "Fettucine alfredo?"

  "You know it."

  He starts to unpack dinner, which smells good enough to make me salivate. I swallow hard. I realize that I skipped lunch because of how fussy Danny was today. It just slipped my mind.

  He does the same thing that he did yesterday, pulling out the actual stuff you need to set the table.

  "Do you wash your own dishes, or is that something your Alfred handles?" I haven't seen a housekeeper or anything. "I schedule cleanings every few weeks when I know I'll be home. Yes, I load and unload my own dishwasher. Danny goes through bottles too quickly for me to leave it that long. But I'll admit my Alfred takes care of the laundry. " He waves his hand at the cloth napkins. "Any laundry you have, you can just leave it downstairs in the sink."

  "Or I can walk to my house and do my own laundry when you're home. Maybe I'll do that today."

  He shrugs. "Whatever you want."

  And then both of us dig into our meals. The rich, creamy sauce is just what I want. There's broccoli and chicken in the dish, too, which makes it slightly healthier. I can see that he's eating grilled rosemary chicken with a vegetable medley on the side.

  In a few minutes, my stomach is bulging and I've finished the whole thing.

  "That was so good," I say. "What restaurant was it?"

  "I'll have to ask Marjorie. Normally, I pick it up myself, but I stayed so late that she arranged to have a delivery guy from the restaurant swing by the office around 7."

  "Cool." I don't understand the casual acceptance of having other people bring him stuff, but I guess I'm an employee, too. My dad is self-sufficient to an absurd degree, no matter how much money we have. I guess that without a wife and with a young baby, Jeff has allowed himself to delegate more tasks.

  "I haven't been by the office lately," I say. "How's Marjorie?"

  "Still a firecracker," Jeff says. I laugh, because I still remember the time when she used to unplug his intercom every day so that he'd have to go to her desk. Sometimes I felt like Marjorie ran the whole office, which was kind of true. She was in her seventies and had spent her entire career shepherding executives. She was the best of the best, which meant that she spoke her mind whenever she wanted. She was always sweet to me, constantly slipping me candy when I was a kid. She was the one who'd made sure that there were feminine products at my house when I was about to hit puberty. I watched the videos and stuff in health class at school, but she'd gone the extra mile for me. I hadn't had a nanny after ag
e 10, but Marjorie was someone who thought of all the details.

  "Maybe I should bring Danny by for lunchtime one day."

  "How about tomorrow?" Jeff asks. "I'd love to see his face." A cloud drifts over his face. "I normally spend the whole day near him, but..." "I'm sure it's hard. He's had a little separation anxiety," I confess. "And I think it might help."

  "Sounds good."

  I clear my throat. I go to the sink to rinse off my plate.

  "Um, so, I guess I'll go to bed?" My voice is a little higher pitched than normal. I'm agonizing over whether I should ask him if we're going to spend the night together or if he's too tired.

  "Sure. If you want to bring your toothbrush in my bathroom, it might be easier on you."

  No discussion, but he's making it clear that he's expecting me to go upstairs. Thank goodness. I don't even know how to have this kind of conversation. He's the only person I've ever had sex with. I don't know what kind of protocol or whatever applies in this situation, where I'm a teenage girl living with a grown-up while I take care of his kid.

  I pop into my room, wash my face, grab a set of pajamas and my toothbrush, and head upstairs. I brush my teeth standing next to his sink, which in some ways feels more intimate than what we did this morning. When I put my toothbrush in the holder in his room, it means that I'll be sleeping here for the foreseeable future.

  I know it's too early to go to bed. But tonight, I feel like skipping my normal ritual with my Kindle. I climb under the covers. My eyes drift shut and I'm asleep in Jeff's bed before I can even hear him coming up the stairs.

  Chapter 13

  Bristly Kisses

  Elia

  I wake up to someone kissing my neck. I can feel the light bristles abrading the soft skin. "Good," he says. "You're up."

  Sometime during the night, I lost my pajamas. His big hand skates over the softness of my stomach before it settles between my legs. With expert pressure, he circles around my clit. I buck against his hand. I know that he's totally sober. Everything is dark and quiet. He presses his erection against me. What time is it? Midnight? Two AM? I seriously can't tell, and then I lose track of any train of thought at all because he's pressing himself into me and the only thing I can think about is how hot he feels inside of me.

  I'm still partially asleep as he rides my body, spreading my thighs wide as he pushes even further inside of my body. He plays with my clit, which makes my back arch in a bow before I climax under him. He grunts as he unleashes his seed inside of my body. I milk more out of his cock before he collapses on top of me.

  "You're heavy," I tell him. "But it's perfect." I can't breathe too easily right now, but who needs to breathe when there's a hot guy inside of you? I trail a hand down his back. He's sweaty and breathing as hard as I am.

  "You're perfect," he tells me, biting my earlobe. Then he withdraws, leaving a cold emptiness inside of me. I can see motion as he heads for the bathroom. He comes back with a wet towel, which he uses to clean me up. When he goes back in there, I can hear running water as he cleans himself up. Then he climbs back into bed and pulls me into the curve of his body.

  "Go back to sleep, Elia," he murmurs.

  Encapsulated in his heat, I fall back asleep.

  Chapter 14

  Chicken BLT

  Elia

  When I wake up again, he's gone and the bed is empty. There's a Post-It on the bedside table saying "Noon." I think my phone is downstairs. I hunt for my pajamas, which are on the nightstand, folded neatly. I pull them on before I go to Danny's room. He's still asleep, but I take him out anyway. I put the crib attachment on the top of the Pack n Play and settle him there. He's sleeping more deeply than he ever has before. I realize that last night was the first time I didn't have to do a midnight feeding, although maybe Jeff did.

  I go to my phone and text Jeff.

  Where should I meet you and did you feed Danny last night?

  His reply is pretty swift.

  Office and yes

  He woke me up last night for sex but not to do my job? That was...I don't know, sweet, I guess. I shake my head. I warm up a bottle so that Danny will have something to eat when he wakes up. Then I drift into my bedroom to get dressed. I remember now that my toothbrush is upstairs. I have a spare manual toothbrush in my bag, which I use rather than run up and down the stairs. I'm tying a scarf over my hair when I hear Danny's breathy little cries.

  I go straight out to the living room, where Danny is fussing just a little bit.

  "Hey there," I say. I put him in the high chair and give him the warm bottle that I prepared.

  He seems a lot happier than he was before. It looks like I'll be giving him the midwife's magical potion every day. I kiss his little head as he eats his breakfast a little more slowly than he did yesterday. When he's full, he sets down the bottle and grins at me. After grabbing a burping cloth, I pick him up to burp him and he nestles into my shoulder.

  When I think that he's been burped enough, the two of us get onto the blanket in the living room that has become our play place. I dump a big basket of toys onto it and he spends the rest of the morning crawling around, stacking things on top of each other, and either watching them fall down or knocking them over himself.

  When I see that it's about 11, I go, change him, and make sure that I'm ready for lunch. I put on two layers of lipstick, ombré style. I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard, but I also want to look like I made an effort.

  I'm driving my dad's car to the office. It has a parking permit, so I won't have any trouble. I put a spare car seat into Dad's back seat, buckle Danny in, and drive us towards the office. It's not far, but it feels weird driving a baby around, like there's a lot more weight even though he's not that heavy. I have to be careful.

  I get there with about 5 minutes to spare. I pull Danny out of the car in a carrier and get into the elevator.

  "Hello, Marjorie," I say when I recognize the lady next to me.

  "Elia!" Marjorie pats my arm. "What a lovely surprise."

  My eyebrows furrow just a little bit. "Didn't you know that I was coming?"

  "No," she says. "Why on earth are you here? Did your father ask you to pick something up? We could have it couriered over, you know."

  "I'm here for lunch," I say, gesturing to Danny. She looks at the baby. "Danny's used to being around his dad a lot more often than he has been for the last few days, so we thought it would be a good idea for Danny to visit his father at work for a little while. Danny doesn't cry as much when he's around his dad."

  "I see," Marjorie said, sounding skeptical. The elevator chimes as we got to their floor.

  "Your lunch appointment is here," Marjorie calls. "And I'm going to take my break." She flips a switch on the phone to forward all the calls downstairs, where there is a freelance pool of temps. They can take messages and all the calls are recorded.

  "Elia!" Jeff says, leaving his office. I notice that his suit jacket is on the back of his chair. "Danny!"

  Danny stretches out his arms. I set him on the ground so that Jeff can hold him. The instant that I unbuckle him, Danny is kicking his legs to try to wiggle out of the chair. Jeff scoops him up and holds him tightly.

  "I missed you," he says, kissing Danny's temple.

  "You saw him a few hours ago," I say.

  "Still missed him," he says, grinning at me. Marjorie is watching all of this with the focus of a referee at a tennis match. She seems unhappy, the corners of her mouth pointing down. With a sniff, she picks up her purse and walks out the door.

  "What did you want to eat for lunch?" I ask. "I don't actually come here for lunch that often..."

  "There's a hotel restaurant that serves really good food. I think that it's family friendly." Jeff readjusts Danny in his arms. "It's close enough to walk to."

  The three of us take the elevator down and walk two blocks away. I'm holding an empty baby carrier and Danny is swiveling around, trying to take in all the sights. His wispy hair is getting a tiny
bit windblown. Jeff's grown-up version of that same hair is getting tousled. He looks like a model next to a wind machine. It's unfair. If I hadn't wrestled my hair into braids, my hair would be a wind-tossed frizzy cloud of sadness. I'm not the kind of girl who has to tease her hair for volume, I can tell you that much.

  When we get to the hotel, he slips $20 to the hostess and asks for a table that's somewhat private. We don't mention Danny's colic.

  She brings us to a table near the back. I can hear the bustle of the kitchen. We slide into the seats. I put the baby carrier under the table and hope there's nothing sticky under there.

  "Your server will be right with you," the hostess says. "Enjoy your meal."

  She walks back to the front. I'm covertly looking under the table for any signs of gum. "When do you need to be back at the office?"

  "Two hours. I have a meeting at 2."

  "Good," I say. Before I can say anything more, his mouth is brushing mine. And then he's kissing me harder, pushing his tongue inside of my mouth. We're both breathless by the time that he's done.

  "I couldn't do that in front of Marjorie," he murmurs. Danny is distracted, looking at all the other diners. I don't think he's even noticed what his father is doing, since he has his back to us. Jeff has a hand on Danny's squishy tummy.

  "We're in public," I try to say, but it comes out as a moan. I've soaked my panties. It kind of feels like I held them under a waterfall.

  "I couldn't wait," he said. "And I'm not trying to hide whatever it is we're doing."

  I think about it. My dad is out of the country, and he's really the only person who would fervently object. "I guess so," I say. "But I don't know what we're doing."

  "We're dating," he says, tugging lightly on one braid. At least he doesn't chew the ends like Danny does.