Hot Daddy: A Billionaire Single Dad Romance

by R. R. Banks

  The three large men looked down at Sulagna, who was currently not amused at the situation but exhaled slowly as she turned back toward the field to notice a player on the ground, injured from a collision with a teammate. “Mr. Acostis, I do not appreciate you ambushing me while I watch this game,” she said sternly before looking back at him. “However, play is going to stop for the next few minutes while the player finds his pride, so I will talk to you until it resumes.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Patel,” replied Robert with relief on his face as the three security guards sat down and leaned back in their chairs. “I promise you, I will not take much of your time.”

  “Oh, I know you won’t, Mr. Acostis,” she stated sternly. “I have two loves in this world before business, which I’m sure is why you are here. My daughter, Mina, is the first love. The second is Paris Saint-Germain, which are currently on the field in front of us. Talking business with you is something that I was not intending to do at all today, but since you’re here, please get to it.

  Sulagna Patel was a middle-aged Indian woman with incredible connections and an amazing reputation in the business community. She was a shorter woman with a dark complexion and dark hair pulled back into a pony tail with a few strands of grey poking through. Her face was a bit worn, though still attractive and well kept. Her makeup was subtle, highlighting the two dimples in her cheeks when she smiled while also accenting her beautiful brown eyes. She dressed modestly, wearing a purple dress that hung down to the bottom of her knees with matching heels on her feet.

  Her position in the Consortium of Oil Traders allowed her to dine with sultans and sheiks, though she still made it a point to discuss business points with every member of COT, no matter the size. She was humble, always working hard for every member of the Consortium and doing everything in her power to increase their bank accounts and their production.

  Robert composed himself quickly as he looked back at the field to see the medical staff for AS Monaco running out onto the field. “First, I want to give you my condolences for you and your daughter’s recent loss,” he began, referencing the recent death of Sulagna’s husband, Amin. “I hope you find whatever peace you can to help you in this trying time.” He paused as she nodded, closing her eyes a bit and patting Robert on the knee in appreciation.

  “He was my everything,” she replied. “These past few weeks have been the hardest of my life, which is why my daughter and I elected to attend an away fixture for our favorite football team, hoping to take our mind off our loss.”

  “I understand, and doing whatever it takes is important,” continued Robert, trying to be sincerely comforting to alter the tone of the conversation. “I remember when my grandfather died and how I spent the next three weeks at their winery in Athens making batch after batch of wine to take my mind off it. My grandmother died a year before, and the two of us made wine after her death. Then when he died, I did the same thing.”

  Sulagna nodded. “I was unaware you made wine,” she said softly. “I love a great glass of red in the evening after dinner, but I can also appreciate a good white, too. One of the things my husband and I used to do was to visit small wineries around the world and sample some of their more obscure batches. It is one of my fondest memories with him.”

  Robert smiled softly as he looked out at the field to see the player still on the ground. “Wine is something that I have always treasured as an art form, and if I could spend all day making wine instead of investing in companies, I would.”

  “And if I could spend all day drinking wine instead of helping oil companies, I would, too,” she said with a laugh. “Perhaps I could try one of your personal labels one day.”

  “If you can help me now, I’ll personally bring you whatever you want,” laughed Robert as the conversation relaxed. “Ms. Patel, I’m going to be incredibly blunt and get to the point. I would like for you to consider our admittance into the Consortium and allow us to take up the distribution networks in Australia.”

  Sulagna grimaced as Robert spoke, turning her head and looking away from Robert to see how the player was doing.

  “Robert, I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you to apply for admission,” she said softly, turning her head to face him while adjusting her hips and placing her hands on his knees to comfort him. “I’m very familiar with you and how you do business, and you are an incredibly successful businessman, but the Consortium values stability more than profitability.”

  “What are you saying?” asked Robert, not used to hearing someone deny him what he wanted.

  “If you showed more of a track record of holding onto companies as they grow and become stable, I would honestly consider your admittance into the COT. But your reputation lends to the notion that you would sell the company immediately and profit from it while we would not know what kind of organization would exist there.”

  Robert’s facial expression relaxed a bit as he turned in his seat. “Please, I promise you that I will not sell the company if you let us in.”

  “Robert, I would love to believe you, but unfortunately, history says that I should not,” answered Sulagna, noticing the genuine disappointment on Robert’s face. She sighed softly and looked out at the field again to see the player starting to get up and the fans starting to applaud. “But perhaps I will give you an opportunity to change my mind. The entire board of the Consortium is meeting in Zurich in two days. I will sanction a meeting between you and the board, to give you an opportunity to plead your case for admittance.”

  His eyes lit up as he slowly looked around the box aimlessly, shocked that he was given this lifeline. “So, I can plead my case to the entire board?”

  “Yes, so come with a solid business plan about how you can not only help us, but how your company will be the pinnacle of stability,” she continued, adjusting her hips again to watch the game. “When you reach Zurich, message the Baur au Lac hotel and inform them that you would like to schedule a meeting with the executive committee for the COT. The concierge’s desk will forward you to our representative, and she will inform you of the time your meeting is scheduled.”

  Robert stood up from his seat and placed his hand out to shake Sulagna’s, which she did quickly and politely. “I will see you in two days,” he said politely as she nodded. “I cannot wait to impress you.”

  “And I cannot wait to be proven wrong,” she replied softly as she let go of his hand and faced the pitch where the game was resuming. Robert turned to see her daughter, Mina, leaning forward to watch the game with the young man beside him. He smiled as she turned her head and smiled back at him, though not long and started to move up the stairs in the aisle and up to the hallway. Robert walked down the hallway and out of the luxury suites, nodding to the steward again before making it to the escalator and walking down it quickly to the bottom level. He walked through the area and out to the railing before turning and making his way to the gate.

  He stood in front of the gate for a moment to debate how he was going to hail a cab before remembering that he promised to return to see the lady at the will call window. I’ve never been one to disappoint, he thought to himself before turning and walking toward the window. He also thought about how that evening would be spent with Dillon at the Casino de Monte Carlo and the next morning would be spent traveling to Zurich. Robert constantly kept a revolving reservation ticket with the Eurail, allowing him to travel in luxury whenever he chose, so he figured that would be the best route to take. He pulled out his phone as he walked up to the desk and pressed a few buttons, notifying the Eurail company that he would be traveling on the high-speed rail from Nice to Bern by way of Milan, and his journey was set.

  With a smile of accomplishment, he placed his phone back in his pocket before walking up to the will call window to see the lady still waiting for him. “That was fast,” she said in her thick British accent. “Are you already sick of the game?”

  “Yes, it does not take much for me to get my fill of football,” he replied calmly. “Thirty
minutes is really all the excitement I need.”

  “I understand,” she replied. “So, what are your plans for tonight?”

  Robert smiled. “Well, I’m meeting a friend and business associate of mine for dinner and drinks at the Casino de Monte Carlo, but I was honestly hoping I could take someone with me who reminds me a lot of home, especially in the way she speaks.”

  “Oh, well I wonder if you’ll have a hard time finding her,” she said coyly, seemingly playing hard to get.

  “I don’t know. I may have already found her,” he stated with a smirk on his face. He looked at her nametag and nodded. “Camille, darling, tell me, how do you feel about casinos?”

  Chapter 3

  Robert stood outside the Casino de Monte Carlo as the sun set over the horizon in Monaco. He stood still, leaning against a marble pole in front of the casino as he watched the taxi line, waiting for his date to arrive. With a brief text forty minutes prior to alert him that she was en route, Robert eagerly anticipated her arrival and the night of subdued celebration and reserved expectations that was in store for him.

  A small black sedan that stood out from the rest of the taxis, pulled up in front of the casino. The driver got out, wearing a black suit and opening the back door, revealing a very tall woman that Robert happened to be waiting for.

  Camille looked stunning as Robert surveyed her. She wore a dark grey dress which was almost black in the right light and hung down to just above her left knee and slanted towards her right knee. The dress had thin straps above her shoulders with black beads and sequins sewn randomly throughout the dress that made it shimmer when light touched it. Her chest was larger than Robert remembered; though when they first met, she was wearing a plain white shirt with the logo of AS Monaco emblazoned on it. Her breasts were holding up the dress nicely as her pale skin tone was complimented by the dark grey shades of the dress. Her dark brown hair looked the same as it did earlier with the long curls in it and the length hanging down between her shoulder blades. She stepped away from the taxi to show off her matching heels, accenting her well-toned legs with every step she took. Robert stretched his arm out for her to grab so that he could escort her inside.

  “You look incredible,” he said as she wrapped her arm around his. “Though I wasn’t expecting you to be this tall.” Camille chuckled as Robert looked her in the eyes without struggling.

  “The heels add a few inches,” she replied playfully as they walked up the marble steps toward the front door. Camille was tall for a woman, standing just over six feet tall and with heels, almost looking Robert directly into his eyes. “You look nice as well,” she said, attempting to compliment Robert, who was feeling slightly underdressed. He wore a grey sports coat with a tailored white, button-up shirt and matching grey slacks with a black belt and shoes.

  “Compared to you, I look a hot mess,” replied Robert, playing down his attire to compliment Camille again. “It’s a casino, not a ball.”

  Camille giggled as they stepped up the marble staircase with Robert holding onto the golden handle for a grip. “Some of us like to have a ball going to the casino,” she said, flipping Robert’s words and causing him to shake his head. Robert had stumbled upon a woman with incredible wit who was equally as quick on her feet, always thinking of a snarky comeback to any expression or saying that he could muster. They continued to move up the staircase and reached the glass doors where a doorman wearing a red tuxedo waited to open it for them, allowing them to enter the immense casino. Once inside, Camille stood in awe as she looked over the décor, noticing the stone columns around the interior of the building with polished marble tile on the floor, all set off by large orange curtains hanging from the ceiling in front of several of the windows.

  Robert and Camille walked forward to find Dillon and his date, Marisol , waiting for them at the end of the foyer. Dillon was dressed similarly to Robert, wearing a blue sports coat, white button-up dress shirt and khaki slacks with brown shoes and a brown belt while his date was dressed as formally as Camille. She wore a lavender dress that hung down to right above her knees with thick straps on her shoulders and intricately woven embroidery all throughout the torso and back. Her chest was slightly exposed, showing a small bit of cleavage, and her brunette hair was fixed up into a fancy style, held together by several pins. Her tanned skin was accented by the beautiful soft tones of her dress.

  “Dillon, glad to see you waited for me,” announced Robert as he walked up to his friend. “I would like you to meet Camille. She was the amazing woman today who helped me get into the football game to meet Sulagna Patel.”

  Dillon placed his hand out and shook Camille’s gently before pointing to his date. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said as he motioned for his date to step forward. “Robert, this is Marisol Dominguez, the daughter of Cristobal Dominguez, the amazingly powerful investor from Madrid.”

  “Oh, right. I know your father very well,” stated Robert boisterously. “He’s a great man and a phenomenal investor.”

  She smiled warmly as she shook Robert’s hand. “He hates you,” she informed him in her thick Spanish accent, catching Robert slightly off guard.

  “I’m sure he’s not the only one on this planet that does at this point,” rebuffed Robert without letting it bother him. “I have a great deal of respect for your father and cannot wait for the next time our two paths cross.”

  Marisol continued to smile. “I’m sure he’ll be looking forward to it as well.”

  Dillon stood in between Marisol and Robert awkwardly, looking at Camille with a blank expression. “Well, I’d honestly hate for this to get more awkward before we have dinner,” he said slowly, doing his best to break the tension of the moment and move forward with the evening. “Ms. Camille, would you like to accompany me to the restaurant so we can let them know we have arrived.”

  “Absolutely,” she replied with her thick British accent, surprising Dillon. “I don’t know if I can handle any more awkward moments before I have a cocktail.”

  “There will be plenty more awkward moments tonight, Madame,” quipped Robert as he looked over at Camille and walked toward Dillon. “They are, in fact, my specialty.”

  Dillon shook his head as he grabbed Camille gently by her arm and guided her up a staircase. “You look amazing,” he said softly to her. “Much better than my date, but please do not tell her that.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of starting a cat fight with that one,” replied Camille as they walked away from Robert and Marisol who continued to talk at the bottom of the stairs to the restaurant. “She strikes me as someone who keeps her claws awful sharp.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” stated Dillon as they reached the top of the stairs and to the host stand. “I brought her out as a favor to her father and to hopefully sway some influence with him. I didn’t realize she possessed the tact of a toddler, or I would have told Robert to stay home, though perhaps he is winning her over with his intricately played charm offensive.”

  Camille laughed as she watched Robert interact with Marisol while Dillon alerted the maître d' of their arrival. “I think my new goal for this evening is to get to her to smile,” she said loud enough for Dillon to hear her while she looked at the conversation at the bottom of the stairs. “It seems as if her face is permanently affixed with a grimace.”

  Dillon turned around as the maître d' ordered one of his hosts to ensure their table was prepared. “That’s part of the reason her father wanted me to take her out tonight,” explained Dillon. “She has run off every potential boyfriend she has ever had, and her father is becoming worried that she is going to die old and lonely with no grandchildren or anything else for him to live for.”

  “Is he hoping you’ll be her boyfriend?”

  “Probably, but she is not my type at all,” continued Dillon. “I love strong women, but I also love ambition and she just doesn’t strike me as someone who has enough of it to satisfy me.” Dillon paused while Marisol and Robert turned an
d started walking up the stairs with Robert offering his arm to Marisol who immediately refused, walking up the marble staircase without the assistance of anyone. “I also prefer blondes,” quipped Dillon quietly before Marisol and Robert reached the top of the stairs.

  Camille chuckled under her breath as Robert walked up and grabbed her around the waist. “Clearly you don’t enjoy the cold shoulder,” whispered Camille into Robert’s ear as he brought her closer.

  “I was hoping no one saw that,” replied Robert quietly, referencing the rejection from Marisol. “Dillon, are we ready to be seated?”

  Dillon turned back to see the maître D' motioning for them to follow the host. “Perfect timing,” stated Dillon as the party of four walked through the restaurant and made it to their table. Robert and Dillon pulled the chairs out for their dates, allowing them to sit first and pushing their chair back under the table before sitting down themselves. The host placed the menus in their hands and allowed them to take a moment to read over them before the waiter came to take their order.

  “What I wouldn’t give for some shepherd’s pie right now,” mentioned Camille as she looked over the menu.

  “Something tells me that they’re not going to have traditional English pub food here,” joked Dillon. “Which reminds me of the question I wanted to ask downstairs – where are you from?”

  “Portsmouth,” she replied without removing her head from the menu, prompting Robert to place his menu down and look over at her. “What?” she said defensively. “Have you never heard of Portsmouth?”

  “I was born and raised in Southampton,” stated Robert. “We’re from areas that are separated by a short bus ride.”

  Dillon laughed across the table while Marisol looked on at the menu stone faced, prompting him to shake his head and focus his attention on the two people who hailed from England across from him. “How odd,” he quipped. “The fact that you ran into a woman, not just from England, but from a neighboring city on the south coast, is completely odd. What brings you to Monaco?”