Billionaire Daddy's Contract: A Single Dad and Nanny Romance

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Billionaire Daddy's Contract: A Single Dad and Nanny Romance Page 2

by Melissa Chetley


  A feeble exhale trails from my lips with a swiftness. As much as I know that I can do better than Zach for a date, the only solution I can find to these current miserable circumstances of mine is to drink more alcohol until I am able to make it through the rest of the night without losing my sanity. In fact, the man happens to be in the middle of another one of his endless stories when I decide to pick up the glass of scotch and down it all in one go. The smooth liquid courage quickly rushes down my throat and leaves a gentle burning sensation in its wake which ominously lingers in my stomach.

  "Honestly, I don't know what those guys at work would do without me. I may have to just personally ask the CEO for a promotion at this rate-"

  "Sorry, will you excuse me for a moment?" I interrupt with a tight-lipped smile. "I need to run to the ladies' room."

  I hurry to get up from my seat before Zach can convince me to wait until he is completely finished with his shameless gloating. My feet immediately carry me away from the stifling atmosphere brought on by his dull conversations and toward the quiet restroom where I place myself in front of the mirror to reassess my situation. I look into the mirror and can hardly recognize myself upon first glance. All I can see is my disappointed gaze and my perpetual frown pressed across my lips.

  What the hell am I even still doing here?

  Another somber groan escapes me as I close my eyes and hang my head in front of my defeated reflection. Even though it's barely 10 PM, I have to cut this date short. There's no way I can realistically endure another hour of listening to him drone on about himself without drinking my mind out. But even then, I don't believe that any amount of alcohol can save me from this train wreck of a blind date -- and I don't need a terrible hangover tomorrow to remind me of how awful this night was. The only way out of this disaster is to tell him that I have to go.

  With my resolve burning brightly and my plausible-sounding excuse set in stone, I freshen myself up a bit before leaving the restroom to head back over to Zach to break the news to him. I speedily march down the dimly-lit corridor leading to the bathrooms and turn the corner to walk back to the bar when I unexpectedly run headfirst into somebody's wide and firm chest. The sudden collision takes me by complete surprise and slightly knocks me backward, my legs barely stabilizing after losing its balance. But in spite of my attempts to steady myself, I can still feel my world wildly spinning in circles from the alcohol that is quickly working its way through my body.

  I bitterly lift my head up toward the stranger who I mistakenly bumped into and begin to apologize, "I am so sorry for running into you-"

  Holy shit.

  Am I dreaming right now?

  There, standing directly in front of me, is a tall and striking man with a pair of beautiful blue eyes and a mop of short tousled brown hair that is beginning to show signs of its slowly salt and peppering state upon his head. But the white and grey strays extend beyond the hairs on his head and onto his beard which is more of a five o'clock shadow. He appears to be a bit of an older man judging from my first impression of his appearance, but his choice of a fitted navy suit paired off with his shiny leather oxfords tells me that he's much more than what meets the eye. Because despite his age and maturity being displayed within his outward appearance, his face is still strong and defined with features that can only be found on models in magazines.

  I quietly exhale in awe of the stranger's good looks, my mind going completely blank from his cool, nonchalant gaze which boldly stares back at me. A tight knot forms within my chest from the intensity that emanates from his piercing blue eyes that continue to fixate on me. It's alarming to realize that not only is his face rather attractive and much my ideal type in a man, but that his fashion sense is quite impeccable as well. And not to mention, I can't seem to ignore the way he carries himself in such a rugged albeit dignified manner which only further adds to his natural mystique and masculine appeal.

  Ugh. It's so unfair.

  All I can think about is how nice it would be if he were the one who was waiting for me by the bar instead of Zach -- but a girl can only hope and dream.

  "Ahem," the handsome stranger loudly clears his throat which instantly grabs my attention. "Are you ever going to move out of the way or are you just going to keep staring at me?" he plainly asks with a weak smile.

  "Oh! Uhh…sorry," I start to stammer while I come back down from my shameless daydreaming.

  The older man's blunt manner of speaking leaves me with a loss for words as I quickly shrink and move out of his way, the alluring scent and trail of his cologne gently following behind him as he walks past me with a minor smirk. I swear that I could almost hear an audible scoff from his lips while he makes his way past me, but I am too foolishly enamored by his sweet smell to really think about it. It's only when I hear the click and slam of the door behind me that I start to realize just how rude and condescending the man actually was toward me. Though I have to admit that his cold and crude demeanor just seems fitting for a guy who looks like that.

  However, I shake off the awestruck reaction and expression on my face and slowly start to walk back over to my seat by the bar. Before I can even lift my stare toward the general direction of my seat, I can already see Zach waving at me from a distance, his arm enthusiastically swaying back and forth in a desperate attempt to grab my attention. A pained smile forms on my face as I reluctantly wave back at him. Even though I can feel myself physically cringe in despair and pity from his unabashed behavior, I continue to walk toward him until I finally get back to my seat.

  "There you are! You were taking so long that I thought you had left without saying anything, which has happened to me more than once, believe it or not," Zach states with a slight hint of bitterness in his tone of voice. "But I guess I was wrong about you because here you are! Still sitting here with me."

  "Y-yeah, I just went to freshen myself up a bit," I respond with a nervous laugh as I tuck my hair behind my ear. Part of me feels extremely offended by Zach's negative assumptions about me as a person while the other half of me feels bad for him and his oblivious nature. But as much as I feel a large amount of pity and sympathy for him, I know I still have to break the news to him and end this awful date before he gets the wrong idea about us.

  Unfortunately, a wide smirk forms across the man's lips as he pushes a glass full of liquid across the counter toward me. "I got you another drink," he proudly grins while he follows up on his sly move with a mouthful of his own beer.

  I glance down at the drink and weakly smile. "You… shouldn't have."

  "Don't worry about it," Zach says with a wave of his hand and a wink. "This one is on me."

  Great.

  How the hell am I supposed to ditch him now?

  My mind begins to contemplate whether or not to accept the glass of scotch when the familiar and sweet scent of cologne suddenly brushes against my nose. The distinct and rousing fragrance causes a warm feeling to stir and ripple across my body like a tiny pebble dropped within a large puddle. But I can feel a heavy presence pull up right next to me without even looking over, my eyes catching sight of the male bartender's changing expression as he stands behind the bar counter in front of me with a big smile on his lips. The bartender's face naturally lights up while he directs his attention toward the individual who is standing beside me: "The usual for you today, Rylan?"

  "Yeah, I'll have the usual," the deep and masculine voice coolly replies.

  "Okay, coming right up, boss."

  An unsettling feeling of déjà vu rouses from within me from the recognizable sound of the man's voice. I can't resist satiating my burning curiosity as I subtly glance over at the person who is waiting for his drinks next to me. But my expression swiftly drops when I eventually set my eyes on the person who has captured my interest. Now I understand why the voice sounds so familiar in the first place -- it's the older man who I had accidentally bumped into in front of the restrooms just a few moments ago, the guy who had scoffed a
t me after making it a point to embarrass me and call me out for staring at him.

  I try to avert my gaze from him as soon as I realize who it is, but it's already too late. The blue-eyed stranger happens to catch me looking at him where he immediately rolls his eyes in response before quickly turning his head away in displeasure. Despite knowing better than to let the man get underneath my skin, I pick up the glass of scotch and guzzle it down while my blood silently boils from his rude and childish reaction. He has no reason to act that way toward me when I'm the one who is still upset and humiliated by his unnecessary remark.

  So, his name is Rylan, huh?

  It's simply incredible how his name even sounds pretentious.

  But the more I try to contain my anger, the more I allow it to consume me. I bitterly gulp down every last drop of alcohol in the cup until there's no more left in the glass. There's a look of pure amazement on Zach's face as I set the empty glass back down on the counter with a gentle slam. The burning sensation from the alcohol almost hits me instantly, the discomfort in my belly immediately followed by the strong feeling of regret. Even though I know how much drinking more when I'm already tipsy is a huge mistake, I can't stop myself from wanting that pleasant high to remove me from this miserable situation.

  "Listen, Audrey," Zach speaks in a low voice as he suddenly puts his hand on my thigh where he begins to softly caress it. His lips curve into a creepy smile. "Why don't we get out of here and go some place quieter? My apartment is only a few minutes away from here. We can walk over to it, no problem."

  My entire body naturally trembles with disgust and unease from the cold and unwanted presence of Zach's hand on top of my leg. I try to shift and slink away from his uncomfortable fingertips, but they continue to latch onto my thigh in spite of my attempts to withdraw myself from him. He refuses to accept my clear rejection of his gross sexual advances, the touchy feeling of his hand making me feel incredibly sick to my stomach. Yet as much as I hate his unwelcome presence and touch against my skin, I find it difficult to physically push his hand away from me.

  It's almost like my body is completely paralyzed and numb from the fear of the escalating situation which is rapidly spiraling out of my control and power.

  "Oh, I-I don't know about that," I stutter as I struggle to find my voice within the depths of my panicked state of mind. "I have an early day tomorrow morning, and I don't think I should stay out too late. Maybe another time-"

  "Come on. It'll only be a few hours. I promise I won't keep you out for too long," Zach interjects with a slight wink and sheepish grin. He firmly squeezes my thigh and adds, "But I also can't promise that you won't end up staying the rest of the night either."

  A short and nervous laugh quickly falls from my lips as my eyes glance downward at the creeping hand that is still touching me. I instinctively shake my head at him and repeat, "No, I really can't. Not tonight, Zach. In fact, I should probably start heading back now after this last drink."

  "No, you can't leave yet. It's still early," the persistent man reasons. "Look, maybe having one more drink will change your mind. Bartender, bring the lady another round-"

  Zach tries to order another glass of scotch for me in a desperate effort to get me to change my mind and go home with him. However, he mistakenly reaches out to grab the bartender's attention without looking and in turn, knocks the already-prepared drinks right out of the handsome stranger's hands who happen to be retrieving them. The alcoholic beverages end up spilling all over me without any warning and entirely soaking me from my neck down to my thighs. My whole body jolts and shivers as I jump out of my seat from the wet chill that runs down my skin.

  Wow.

  It's almost as if this date couldn't get any worse -- it somehow magically does.

  "Oh shit, that wasn't supposed to happen," Zach grumbles.

  The clumsy man swiftly grabs a napkin to wipe away the spilled liquid on me, but his futile efforts only make the situation even worse for me. I feel utterly ashamed and mortified by all of the eyes which are watching me with pity. It doesn't help that I drank way too much beyond my usual limitations and I am just now slowly starting to feel the nauseating effects of my terrible choices. There's nothing I want more in this moment than to simply go home when all I feel is cold, wet, and highly uncomfortable.

  I feel like I'm completely at my rope's end when my defeated gaze makes eye contact with the blue stare which belongs to the attractive stranger with the foul attitude -- Rylan. He seems equally troubled by the disastrous circumstances but not for the same reasons as mine. His drinks were the ones which happened to be spilled all over me, and now he has to wait for the bartender to make him new ones. Even though he is telling the bartender that it's fine to take his time to remedy the situation, the older man's bitter expression from the minor inconvenience is clearly written across his face.

  However, it's only when I see that arrogant look on the man's face that I come up with an impulsive plan to excuse and release myself from Zach's overwhelming persistence.

  "Oh my god, is that you, Rylan?" I ask in an overly loud and surprised tone of voice. The blue-eyed stranger instantly turns toward me upon hearing the sound of his name, giving me the opportunity to set my plan into motion. He curiously furrows his brow at me while I continue to play along with my charade and ask, "You remember me, right? Audrey. Audrey Scott?"

  An awkward silence falls over the two of us as Rylan raises an eyebrow at me. His cold blue stare shifts over to a confused Zach who stares back at him with a dumbfounded and leery expression. Amusement spreads across his lips in the form of a smirk as he leans back against the bar counter with his arms crossed. It's obvious from the mischievous glint in his eyes that he understands exactly where I am trying to go with this false conversation -- the only problem is whether or not he's the type of man to ignore a young woman's plea for help when she clearly needs it.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Scott, but I'm pretty sure that I don't recall ever meeting you," Rylan finally answers with a slow shake of his head. His snide smirk remains on his face as he passes on a weak apologetic look toward me.

  I can't help but scoff in disbelief.

  This fucking jerk really isn't going to help me?

  "Really? You don't remember me at all?" I ask again while gritting my teeth.

  Rylan's cruel grin naturally fades as he coldly responds without any hesitation: "Really. I don't."

  The older man makes his decision loud and clear to me, his hardened stare lingering on me for a few seconds before he eventually turns his attention away from me. A soft and weary exhale parts from my lips as I tightly clench my fist in frustration. Even though I should have expected this kind of reaction and result from him, it still hurts to feel his callous rejection. Especially since he was supposed to help me be my one way ticket out of this hellish nightmare without having to deal with any more of Zach's obvious delaying tactics.

  "Gosh, I am really sorry about that, Audrey. It's not like me to make such a dumb mistake like that," Zach sighs as he shakes his head in disappointment.

  Yet in spite of the remorse that the man is showing over what happened, he actually seems more troubled by the fact that he made a humiliating slip-up in public rather than the fact that my clothes are drenched and soaked in alcohol. I can see him taking more than a few glances around the room as if he were seriously concerned about what other people were potentially saying or thinking about him for causing such a scene. In fact, it even seems like he may actually be somewhat embarrassed by how unsightly I look right now in front of the rest of the crowd based on how skittish he's acting.

  "It's fine. I can just throw it in the wash later," I weakly reply.

  "No, I feel absolutely terrible about this whole situation. Why don't we get you changed back at my place for now? It will be a lot better than going home in those wet clothes you have on. Come on."

  Zach goes ahead and puts his arm around my waist before I can tell him no again. The
firm grip of his hand wraps tightly around my side, his arm forcefully pulling me closer toward him in an attempt to guide me out of the bar. I can barely get a word in to him before he starts to lead the way toward the exit by pulling me along with his hand that is grabbing me around the waist. His pushy motions are so assertive and forceful that my legs happen to move along with him until I begin to realize that this isn't what I want.

  "Zach, I-"

  My voice slowly finds its way out of my throat when I am suddenly hit by a strong spinning sensation of dizziness. I softly gasp from the unexpected feeling of weakness which ruthlessly grips me -- something isn't right. The visible world that was once seen through my eyes begins to quickly blur around the edges to a point where I can hardly distinguish what is happening around me. I can feel the energy in my body waning and fading, the strength in my legs giving out for no apparent reason at all.

  What the hell is going on?

  Why is this happening?

  I close my eyes and try to take a deep breath to calm myself down, but nothing I do can stop my immediate surroundings from constantly spinning in circles. Everything around me simply looks and feels like a vague and distant dream which I am just observing with someone else's pair of eyes. Yet no matter how disoriented and tipsy I feel, I know that this is no normal experience of drunkenness. And it isn't until I catch sight of Zach's distorted smile within my clouded vision that I understand why it is that I feel so shitty in the first place.

  Ugh, how could I be so stupid?

  He must have put something in that new drink that he got me while I went to the restroom.

  Zach opens his mouth while the sound of his low voice sends a wave of chills down my spine: "Don't worry, Audrey. I'll take real good care of you. Trust me on that. You'll feel a lot more comfortable once you get yourself out of those wet clothes."

 

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