Baby Daddy: A Sexy STANDALONE Romantic Comedy

by Nelle L'Amour

“…That he’s a drug-dealing ex-felon, who served time in prison for domestic violence.”

  She paused and a silence so thick a knife couldn’t cut through it fell over the table. Finally, turning to me, my father broke it.

  “Son, is this true?”

  Before I could open my mouth, Krizia jumped in. “Orson, I can prove it. I have documentation right here in my bag.”

  Sickened and speechless, I watched as Dee slowly rose from her chair. Pale as a ghost, tears forming in her eyes, she looked squarely at my father.

  “There’s no need, Mr. Hanson. Everything Krizia said is true. I’m sorry that I’ve shamed you all tonight.” Without saying another word, she grabbed her bag and fled.

  “Jesus,” I muttered, leaping to my feet.

  “Drake, where are you going?” I heard my father shout out. “Get back here.”

  It was too late. I caught up to Dee at the front entrance of the restaurant. I grabbed her by the elbow, holding her back. In my peripheral vision, I could see diners staring at us; we were creating a scene.

  “Dee, wait!”

  “Please let go of me,” she choked out, desperately trying to free herself.

  “No, Dee. We need to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” she replied tearfully. “I’ve totally humiliated your family.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Her lips quivered. “How could you do this to me? Put me in this position?”

  Stupid fucking me. My impulsive charade to seal my father’s dream deal had come back to bite me in the ass.

  “I should have never lied. I just wanted my father’s deal to go through.”

  “So you could be CEO?”

  “It had nothing to do with that.”

  “Let go of me, Drake. Now!”

  “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

  Then, with a sharp, sudden jerk, she freed herself and flew out the door.

  “Dee!” I cried out, following her outside.

  The rain was coming down in buckets. In a matter of seconds, the two of us were drenched. As she tried to hail a taxi, I gripped her by her shoulders.

  “D-baby, please. I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who’s sorry. Sorry for ever stepping foot in your office. Sorry for getting involved with you when I had no right to. And sorry for probably screwing up your father’s big deal.”

  “Stop it.”

  Impulsively, I flipped her around, cradling her wet cheeks in my hands. My lips claimed hers, with a mix of passion and rage as the rain pounded down upon us. She gripped the lapels of my soaked jacket, balling the material with a palpable push and pull. Desperate moans, caught between desire and disgust, gathered in her throat as our warm breaths fought off the chill of the downpour and our tongues did battle, clashing madly with each other.

  Finally, I broke the kiss, but my hands stayed splayed on her mascara-streaked face. “Maybe I lied, but my feelings about you are real. I’m crazy in—”

  Before I could say the one word I’d never said to a woman, Dee’s hand swept across my face. The swat echoed in my ears as the sting set in. Catching me off guard while I rubbed my cheek with one hand, she managed to break free of me.

  “Screw you.” Her voice rose with anger. “You should have thought about your actions. And I should have thought about mine.” Turning away from me, she lifted her arm and yelled again for a taxi. Within seconds, one pulled up to the curb.

  As she charged toward it, I seized her cold, wet hand, squeezing her fingers with mine.

  “Let go of me, Drake!” Her voice was hoarse and desperate. Pained.

  “At least, let me take you home,” I begged as the impatient cabbie lowered the front passenger window and hollered for her to get in. Horns were honking all around us.

  “No, Drake. Get away from me. I never want to see you again.”

  My grip loosened. She broke free of me and dashed into the cab. As she slammed the back-passenger door shut, the taxi peeled away from the curb, sending a cold splash of water all over me. I was as soaked as a drowned rat. With the rain falling on me like a spray of bullets, I buried my face in my hands and felt my heart sink to the glistening, wet pavement. Utterly defeated, I turned around and trudged back into Musso’s.

  No one had left the table. The only difference was Krizia was now sitting in Dee’s seat. She was already moving in on me like a predatory beast. The extreme rage I felt toward her pulsed through my bloodstream. I clenched my fists by my sides so I wouldn’t throw her onto her bony ass.

  “Drake, please sit down,” ordered my father, motioning to the chair I’d been sitting in. His words were as sharp as broken glass.

  “That poor girl,” murmured my mother, sitting to my left, and then asked if I was all right.

  No, I wasn’t all right. My heart was splintering and I was chilled to the bone. And my emotions were in a total turmoil. Anger, confusion, sadness, and regret ripped through me like shrapnel, shredding me to pieces.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, lacking for words.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Gunther’s voice was glacial. “Krizia spared us a lot of potential headaches and embarrassment.”

  A triumphant smile slithered across Krizia’s pursed lips as Gunther continued.

  “I have a no tolerance policy for liars. Transparency is everything to me.”

  “Dee didn’t lie,” I interjected. “It’s not her fault.”

  “Be quiet, son,” chided my father. “Let Gunther talk.”

  Clearing his throat, Gunther looked at me pointedly. “Moreover, there’s no way I could have a CEO married to a woman of that sort. We are a family-oriented business, and if her background got out, as I’m sure it would, it would tarnish our image and credibility. Image is everything.”

  I swallowed back the painful lump in my throat. His words were like arrows to my chest, not because he was criticizing me, but because he was attacking Dee. My love. A good human being and mom. The woman who had stolen my heart, together with her beautiful little girl.

  Gunther cleared his throat again, and then his steely eyes locked with my father’s. “Orson, the deal is off.”

  I glanced at my father’s fallen face. I’d blown it for him. And I’d blown whatever chance I’d had with Dee. I loathed Krizia, but I loathed myself more. As unbearable failure and sorrow devoured me, Gunther stalked off with his wife.

  CHAPTER 40

  Dee

  I pressed my face against the window as the cab made its way back to my house. With the pouring rain, traffic was at a crawl and it felt like an eternity. The diverse neighborhoods we passed by along Hollywood Boulevard were a blur and couldn’t distract me from my thoughts. My heartache. Tears dripped down the window, kissing the raindrops that streaked the outer glass.

  With the inclement weather and Friday night traffic, it took close to an hour to get to my Silverlake residence. Having cashed my paycheck, my last one, I paid the driver and gave him a generous tip.

  The lights were on, the rain still pouring. Shivering wet with a heavy heart, I ran to the front door and rang the bell. I just didn’t have the wherewithal to fish for my keys or fiddle with the complicated lock. Lulu, thank God, came to the door in no time. Her eyes popped at the sight of me.

  “Jesus, sis, what are you doing back so early? And look at you…you’re soaking wet.”

  The pounding rain sounded in my ears and showered me with more pain than I could bear. When I opened my mouth, sobs spilled out. Loud, heaving ones. Not wasting a second, my sister wrapped an arm around me and ushered me into the house.

  “Is Ty home?”

  “Yes. I picked her up. She’s sound asleep.”

  I could always count on my sister.

  “Let’s get you into some dry clothes.”

  “D-don’t wake up, Ty,” I managed through my chattering teeth. “I’ll change into my robe. It’s in the bathroom.”

  “I’m co
ming with you.” Worry laced my sister’s voice.

  “N-no, it’s okay. I’ll be fine.” Fine…I reflected for a moment on that four-letter word. Truthfully, I didn’t think I’d ever be fine again.

  “Okay. I’ll make some hot tea in the meantime.”

  “That would be nice,” I forced myself to say as I slogged to the bathroom.

  Five minutes later, I was back in the living room, wrapped up in my terrycloth robe. While my chills and sobs were subsiding, I didn’t look or feel any better. My unkempt hair was like a wet bird’s nest, and I hadn’t gotten off all the mascara from my blotchy, tear-soaked face. My head throbbed as I rubbed my burning, bloodshot eyes.

  “Drink some tea,” my sister urged.

  Weakly, I nodded, only to break out into another heavy round of tears when I noticed the mug was a souvenir from the Santa Monica Pier…something I’d won playing Skee-Ball. All the memories of that glorious day whipped through my head like a roller coaster. An emotional roller coaster I couldn’t get off.

  “Dee-Dee, what the hell is going on?” demanded Lulu, after forcing me to take a few sips of the tea. “Why aren’t you with Drake?”

  The soothing, piping hot beverage coursed slowly down my throat, providing me with just enough relief to open up to Lou. In between small sips, I told her everything that had happened tonight. She listened intently with very few interruptions.

  “Oh my God! How awful!” exclaimed Lulu when I came to the end of my woeful tale. “I’d like to kill that jealous bitch.”

  “She did it out of jealousy?”

  “Of course. Why else?”

  I hadn’t given much thought to Krizia’s motivation. I was too consumed by my mortification and hurt. Lulu’s insight didn’t make things any better.

  “What are you going to do?”

  A new emotion—confusion—mingled with my pain. I bit out my answer.

  “I’m going to quit my temp job.”

  “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “I have to. I can’t face him. And besides, his father will fire me anyway for screwing up his deal.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” The same words as Drake’s.

  “I should have come out and said that I wasn’t really engaged to Drake.” I took another sip of the hot tea. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”

  “Bullshit. Of course you know why. It was wishful thinking. You’re madly in love with him.”

  Lulu’s words struck a deep chord inside me. We’d never talked about my feelings, but my sister was right. I was head over heels in love with Drake Hanson. And it wasn’t because of all the great sex we had. It was because of all the great moments we’d shared. All the fun. All the laughter. And above all, because of the way he’d taken to Tyson and she’d taken to him. Their magical bond. Oh, God. What was I going to tell her? She was going to be heartbroken not seeing him again. The only pain worse than my own was seeing my baby girl suffer. I loved her more than life itself.

  Almost on cue, her sweet, raspy voice broke into my despair.

  “Mommy, what are you doing home?” she shouted out, running up to me.

  I took her in my arms and gave her a hug. She stared at me with her earnest eyes. Concern filled the rims.

  “Mommy, have you been crying?”

  “Um, uh…no.” I’d never shed a tear in front of her, well at least when she could see me crying. Being brave for my daughter was part of my job.

  “Yes, you have!” challenged by astute little girl. “What’s the matter?”

  My sister came to the rescue. “Tyson, honey, it’s late. You shouldn’t be up. Let’s get you back in bed.”

  “Lou, it’s okay.” I ran my fingers through my daughter’s silky hair. She might as well hear the truth. Or some child-friendly version of it. “Cupcake, I had a fight with Drake.”

  Ty scrunched up her face. “What kinda fight?”

  “A grown-up fight. He said a lie about me.” A lie that I wish could be true but would never be.

  Though I’d lied to Ty about her father her entire life, I’d instilled her with the value of telling the truth at all costs.

  “I’m not going to work for him anymore.”

  Ty frowned. “Does that mean you’re never gonna see him again?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “But, Mommy, you have to. At my graduation, he promised he was gonna take us to New York at Christmas to skate at Rockerfellow Plaza. And he promised he wouldn’t break his promise.”

  Her words gutted me. “Well, maybe not this year.” No, not ever.

  My little girl defiantly crossed her arms. “I think you and Drake should kiss and makeup.”

  Uncontrollably, at her words, my eyes grew watery. The mere thought of Drake’s lips on mine sent my emotions into a tailspin, and I couldn’t stop a few tears from falling.

  “Oh, Mommy, are you crying again?”

  I sniffled as she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me. God. Here she was taking care of me when I should be taking care of her. Gnawing guilt succumbed to gratitude. How blessed I was to have this incredible little girl. She was my temple. Sacred and special.

  “It’s gonna be okay, Mommy. Just wait and see.”

  The warmth of her body and her loving words brought me much needed solace. I kissed the top of her head.

  “Dee, is there anything I can do?”

  My sister. I glanced up at her.

  “Lou, I’m going to put Ty back to bed and call it a night. Thanks for everything.”

  We hugged. A short ten minutes later, I was ready for bed too. I tucked Ty in.

  “Mommy, do you believe in happily ever after?”

  I was taken back by her unexpected question, especially in my frame of mind. I hesitated before answering.

  “Yes, I do.” Another lie. Or maybe half-truth. Once upon a time I did. Once when I met Kyle. And then again with Drake. But with my epic-fail pattern, this fantasy would never be a reality. When it came to finding true love, I was doomed. I didn’t, however, want to blow this dream for my sweet little girl. She deserved to have it. So, I answered, “Yes, I do.”

  An ear-to-ear smile spread across her face. “Me too.”

  Fighting back tears, I returned the smile. Enough drama for tonight.

  “Mommy, do you wanna sleep with me tonight?”

  “Yes, my cupcake. I’d like that.”

  A few heartbeats later, I was in her bed snuggled next to her lithe body.

  “Good night, my baby girl. I love you from here to the moon and back.”

  “Me too, Mommy.”

  I kissed the back of her head and soon she was out like a light, unaware that my tears were soaking her red cape. Drake’s magical cape. If only it had the power to magically make this night go away.

  CHAPTER 41

  Drake

  I spent the rest of the weekend in bed. Actually, make that the entire week. Right after the Dee fiasco, I did a foolish thing. While my parents left the restaurant in a huff (well, at least my father did), I stayed behind at the bar and downed a couple of Scotches. Truthfully, I lost count after two. Several women tried to hit on me and I told them I was gay. Then, too afraid to get into my car because I was positive I was going to drive straight to Dee’s house and get into a major accident on the way, I took a long walk in the pouring rain along Hollywood Boulevard to sober up. By the time I got home, I was so drenched you could ring me out and I was coughing. By Monday, I was sick as a dog with some kind of God-awful flu. The kind you cough up brown shit and your throat, head, and chest hurt so fucking bad you can barely talk, think, or breathe.

  What was worse, on Monday morning, in my debilitated, feverish state, I overslept and missed my weekly breakfast meeting. At ten thirty a phone call woke me up. It was my father’s forever secretary, Barbara. Obviously, he wasn’t talking to me. And I couldn’t blame him.

  “Drake, your father wants to know why you weren’t at the Polo Lounge?”

  “Tell him I’m sick
,” I croaked.

  “You don’t sound well at all.”

  I didn’t tell her that I felt like I was dying. It was more than just my throat and my lungs or the raging fever. It was that pounding muscle inside my chest that was killing me. I was growing more certain by the second that I had the plague.

  “I’ll let him know. By the way, your temp quit.”

  Dee quit? At her words, I coughed up more shit, and as I did, I put my hand to my aching heart as if I was having a heart attack. Which maybe I was. The coughing spell continued.

  “Drake, are you okay?” asked Barbara.

  “Yeah,” I rasped. Fuck no.

  Tuesday began even worse. I woke up hacking and in a cold sweat from an awful dream. I dreamt I was stranded on the Santa Monica Pier in a horrible storm, and from my vantage point, I could see a ship being carried out to sea. On the deck were dozens of little boys who looked just like six-year-old me and among them was one little girl who looked just like Tyson. They were all reaching out to me and crying, “Daddy, save us!” A bolt of lightening flashed in the sky as thunder roared. But as I stood there helplessly and hopelessly, the boat sailed further and further away from me into the turbulent sea until, to my horror, it got caught in a mile-high wave and capsized. And that’s when my eyes snapped open and I bolted to a sitting position.

  Brushing sweat off my damp forehead, I tried to make sense of the dream. All day long between fitful naps and hazy consciousness, it haunted me. I was in some kind of netherworld between delirium and denial. I couldn’t get the image of all those little boys out of my mind and especially Tyson. Her soulful eyes connecting with mine, her little arms reaching out for me as the ocean pulled her further and further away from me. Like a jigsaw puzzle, piece by piece, the dream revealed itself and I was frightened. The horrific dream replayed in my head over and over to the point I was afraid to go to sleep.

  Wednesday began with a scare. I heard the door to my condo click open and slam shut. It couldn’t be my housekeeper because she came on Fridays. Was I being burglarized? Had fucking Kyle tracked me down? Coughing, I forced myself out of bed and grabbed the hockey stick next to it to use as a weapon. As sick as I was, I was ready to pounce.