Single Dad’s Plaything: A Single Dad First Time Billionaire Romance

by Natasha Spencer

  “Well yeah, I do. But I’m saving.” She picked up the menu too and opened it up, beginning to look at the food – and the prices – her eyes widening slightly. She definitely would never come to a place like this on her own. Way too expensive. Good job Tyler was paying, although she still felt a little bad about it, despite him being a literal billionaire according to the papers.

  Tyler flicked through the pages and then put it back down on the table, already having decided what he wanted. He usually got the same thing every time anyway. He was a creature of habit like that. “Yeah? That’s cool. What you saving up for?”

  He was expecting her to say a new house, a new car, or maybe even something smaller like a widescreen TV or an Xbox. What she did say shocked him, and added an extra layer of interesting to Jamia’s already complex personality.

  “To study at a police academy.”

  She said it with a small smirk, probably knowing that it was going to be an unexpected answer.

  Tyler’s eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly open, staring across the table at Jamia. “No way! You wanna be a cop?”

  “Yeah.” Her smirk broke into a grin. “Always have since I was a kid. Now I’m just…putting things into action.”

  “Well hey, you did tell me you were observant the other night, and I believe you.”

  “Ha, yeah I did, good memory.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t that drunk.” He smiled and gazed at her, definitely impressed. “That’s so cool though. I’m sure you’ll do great. I bet you’d make a great detective or something.”

  “I hope so. It’s my dream.”

  “We only get one life, babes. Gotta follow your dreams.”

  “I think so too. It’s important.”

  “Definitely.”

  There was a small moment, where they both looked into each other’s eyes for slightly longer than normal. Tyler broke it first, bending his head to look at the menu and pick it up off the table again. “So…what d’you think you’ll have?”

  “God, I don’t know. I suppose I should actually read it rather than chatting to you all night…” She looked down too and perused the pages.

  “Well, I already know what I’m having so maybe I can order the wine while you choose?”

  “Sounds like a plan. Except…whether I have red or white will depend on what food I’m having.”

  Tyler raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Didn’t have you down as a wine connoisseur.”

  “Bet you didn’t have me down for a lot of things, Tyler Preston.” She flicked some hair back off her face then smirked to herself as she continued to read her menu. “Are we gonna share a bottle of wine?”

  “Hm, I dunno. Probably. I mean, we’ve already had two beers so if we have a bottle of wine each we’re gonna be on the floor.”

  They both laughed a little and she nodded in agreement. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. But like…what food are you even ordering?”

  “I’m having the fillet of chicken Alfredo with rice and side salad.”

  “OK well…if you’re having chicken we’ll get a white wine then,” she decided with a nod. “I’ll choose something that matches the wine. Maybe uh…maybe fish actually,” she murmured, frowning slightly as she looked down at the menu.

  “The fish is really good here,” said Tyler enthusiastically.

  And that was that. Ten minutes later, the food was ordered, the wine was on the table, and they were drinking and talking about more important things, like Jamia’s ambition to be a cop.

  “Have you ever had any practice doing like…I don’t know…cop things?” Tyler asked her with a glint of excitement in his eye.

  “Like what?” she chuckled. “Running around pretending to be Sherlock Holmes?”

  Tyler grinned and took a sip of wine. “I don’t know, I mean like…studying old cases or…maybe shadowing a cop or talking to one to find out what it’s like, getting some first-hand experience. Do they do work experience for that kind of thing? I don’t even know. Like, can you go in and spend a day at the station hanging out with cops?”

  “I’m honestly not sure,” Jamia replied, frowning slightly. “But actually, that’s a pretty good idea, maybe I should check that out.”

  “You totally should.”

  “I mean, I have studied old cases, I’ve definitely done a lot of that. And I follow current and ongoing cases too, and try to get to the bottom of them before the cops do. It’s kind of like a game to me, to see if I can beat them,” she gushed out happily, then stopped herself, hesitating and biting her lip, a look of guilt flashing across her pretty features as she realized what she’d just said. Of course, this was potentially a sensitive issue for Tyler.

  But the billionaire merely smiled. “Really? And have you ever beaten them?”

  “Now and again, yes. But it’s hard when you don’t have access to all the details; only the stuff that’s in the press and what you can research for yourself.”

  “When do you even find time to do this?” He laughed a little in disbelief.

  “When I’m on my shift in the bookshop. Like I said, it can be pretty quiet sometimes.”

  Tyler nodded, taking another sip of wine and looking at her carefully over the brim of his large, wide glass. “I assume you read the newspapers a lot then. Or at least…follow news updates online.”

  Jamia picked up her glass and nodded. She could see where this was going.

  “So…I assume you know a little bit about me…about my father.” He took a large sip of wine, swirled it round his mouth then swallowed it all down, grimacing slightly.

  “Yeah,” Jamia said quietly. “I uh…I was reading about it yesterday actually.”

  Tyler nodded slowly, then put his glass down and leaned forward, speaking fairly quietly. “When he was found…people immediately started talking about Michael.”

  “Michael?”

  “The name might be familiar to you if you’ve read the articles,” Tyler continued. “Michael East. He was my father’s business partner, friend, and closest confidante. Some people suspected him of being involved. Because he benefited directly from my father’s death.”

  “How so?”

  “The thing is, he only benefited because of me. He wouldn’t have known that before my father died, so therefore that wouldn’t have been any kind of motivator.”

  “Why, what happened?” Jamia asked again, rephrasing the question.

  “I basically signed over the business to him. I put the wheels in motion to do it like…two days after my dad had died. I don’t want a part of it. I’m not business minded like he was, and I don’t care about it. But obviously I don’t want the whole thing to fail because, you know, it’s my dad’s legacy, it’s what he spent his whole life building up. So…I left it in the very capable hands of Michael, a man I trust with all my being.”

  “So what you’re saying is…he wouldn’t have known you would hand the business over to him?”

  “Exactly. So therefore he has no motive.”

  “Well, that is a good point…”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming somewhere,” Tyler smiled, folding his hands together and resting his chin in them as he looked across the table at her, actually rather enjoying this despite the sensitive topic. It was interesting to get the opinion of someone else, and a potential trainee cop at that.

  “Ha…well…all I was gonna say was…he might not have known for sure, but he could have very well suspected. You said he was a close friend and confidante to your father, which meant he probably had a good idea about the type of man you are too, and that you wouldn’t want the pressure of running a business to get in the way of your…enjoyment and freedom.”

  “Still a big risk to take for a ‘I think that’s how he’ll react’. Besides, there’s other reasons I know he didn’t do it.”

  “Oh?” Jamia raised an eyebrow and took a small sip of wine, clearly starting to enjoy this too now. “Like what?”

  “Well, I just…trust him. Like I said, he’s
been a close friend of my father his entire life, and a close family friend. He’s seen me grow up, practically. And he’s a nice guy. He’s not a crook. He was more shaken up than I was at my dad’s death.”

  “Fair enough,” Jamia nodded slowly, believing everything he said about Michael, then she leaned forward and said slightly teasingly. “Has no one suspected you then? Seeing as you apparently weren’t shaken up?”

  Tyler smirked slightly. “It’s not that I wasn’t shaken up, just…people deal with death differently, don’t they? Especially these kind of deaths. I mean, it was pretty damn gruesome so yeah, it was a shock, and it’s messed up, but there’s fuck all I can do about it now except assist the police and try to bring whoever did it down.”

  “That’s a very admirable way of thinking,” Jamia smiled and sat back, her head slightly tilted as she looked at him across the table. “I’m sure your father would be very proud of you actually.”

  Tyler snorted. “Doubt it. I mean, look at me. I’m a waster.”

  “Maybe. But you’re a nice guy.”

  Just then, the food came, and the topic drifted to other things; mostly the meal they were eating, and the other types of food they both enjoyed, getting into a healthy debate about whether Chinese or Thai was better.

  By the end of the meal, though, the conversation shifted back to the case again, and to the murder of Trent Preston.

  “You know what? It’d be awesome if you were a real cop, cause then you could help out on the case,” said Tyler.

  “Yeah, that would be pretty cool, although we wouldn’t be able to do things like this if I was.” She indicated the meal before them, and the date. “Unprofessional, you see.”

  “Mm true. But I wouldn’t care. That’d just make it even more naughty and exciting.”

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine you’re the kind of guy who worries too much about professionalism.”

  “Not when I can help it,” Tyler smirked, then finished off his meal and pushed his plate to the side. “So, you’re not a cop, therefore it wouldn’t be unprofessional.”

  “What wouldn’t? To go on a date with you?” She looked at him, slightly confused for a moment.

  “No, not that. Well, yes, that as well, but I meant…to help out on the case.”

  Jamia raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

  “Why not? You can play your little game, see if you can beat the cops to the solution. It might be good experience for you.” Tyler smiled. He genuinely meant it, but it was also be an excellent opportunity for them to spend more time together, which was his main motive. He had a feeling Jamia wasn’t going to come home with him that night, which meant he’d need to play the long game. He didn’t mind. It would be worth it. There was definitely something about her.

  “Well…as long as you don’t mind, I….I certainly wouldn’t mind taking a closer look at some of the details.”

  “Great. I’ll have to introduce you to Michael.”

  Chapter Five

  Michael East was, at that very moment, in a meeting with Detective Sal Foster, at the PII offices where Trent Preston was found dead. Detective Foster, or Sal, as she insisted on being called, had been assigned to the case, and was collecting some more evidence from the ‘scene of the crime’.

  The office itself, where Mr. Preston had been murdered, had been cordoned off and that entire floor closed, but business was still in operation in the rest of the building, and Michael was working late as usual, taking on full responsibility for pretty much everything since the murder.

  “You still got the press outside your house, sweetie?” Sal asked. She had this habit of calling him sweetie. It was a little disconcerting, considering she was an attractive female detective and probably about twenty years younger than him, but he didn’t mind too much. She probably talked like that to everyone.

  “Yeah, but it’s died down a little.” He shrugged, watching her pick out a single hair from the pool of blood on the floor of Trent’s office. She held it up in the air to look at, then carefully put it into a bag she’d pre-prepared. “How did forensics miss that?” He asked, gasping a little. They’d gone over this whole area days ago when the body had first been found.

  “You’d be surprised how much they do miss,” grumbled Sal, standing up and closing the bag. “I’ll get this tested.”

  Michael nodded and sat down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. He was relieved to get a bit of a break and show Sal around. “How come you didn’t suspect me from the beginning?” Like all the press and some of his co-workers apparently did.

  “Because I’m a detective,” she replied with a slight smug expression, sitting down next to him. “I can tell when someone’s lying and I can usually get a good idea about who’s the guilty party straight away.”

  “What else did you want to speak to me about?” he asked, picking at the sleeve of his suit jacket a little. Even though Sal was nice, and friendly, getting interviewed with the cops still made him slightly nervous. He was scared he might say something that would implicate him in some way and cause them to start suspecting him, even though he was completely innocent. It was probably an irrational fear, but still. “I’ve given my full statement already.”

  “I know, sweetie, I remember. But I do have a few questions about your boss in general.”

  “Alright, ask away. Anything I can do to help catch this guy, y’know?” He shrugged.

  “That’s the spirit,” Sal smiled and shuffled a bit closer to him, taking out her notepad and pen. “Now…Trent Preston was murdered, so it goes without saying that he must have had some enemies, people who either hated him or just wanted him dead, or people who would directly benefit from wiping him out.”

  Michael grimaced slightly at Sal’s straight down the line talk. He was still getting over the death of his friend and business partner. This entire week had been hard, and completely crazy.

  “Can you think of anyone who might match that description?” She continued. “Who were his enemies?”

  “Well that’s just the thing, he didn’t have any,” replied Michael with a small frown. “Trent was a nice guy. Sure, he was a businessman, but he wasn’t ruthless and he didn’t stab people in the back or anything like that. He was determined, but fair. He had rivals, but that was all they were…business rivals. And I doubt any of them would go so far as to want him dead.”

  “Well someone clearly did, Michael, sweetie,” said Sal. “Was he ever involved in the Mafia, gangs, any of that stuff?”

  “Oh no…” Michael chuckled at the thought of it and shook his head. “Never…never.”

  “Has he ever been broken into, or had anything stolen from him?”

  Michael frowned and sat in silence for a moment as he considered it, then after a short pause, he answered, “Yes actually, about ten or twelve years ago there was a break in at the family home, and after that he spent a lot of money increasing security and setting up loads of alarm systems and cameras and such, and we never had a problem after that.”

  “Hmm…” Sal shook her head. “I think we can rule that one out then. Has he ever been instrumental in bringing injustice or corruption in the business world to light? I know there’s a lot of it goes on and he must have seen some of it at some point. How many people has he fired over the years?”

  “A good number, I suppose. He’s let them go for various reasons. I couldn’t say exactly how many but…I can get you the figures.”

  “And the names?”

  “Yes, yes,” Michael nodded. “They’ll all be on record.”

  “That would be very helpful. If you could get that for me by say…this time tomorrow?”

  “That wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Great. Thanks sweetie.” Sal smiled and scribbled a few more things down, then closed her notebook and stood up. “I’d better get going. Sorry to call so late but I just wanted a quick chat with you and I was passing the building so…thought I might as well get it done.”

  “Certainl
y. No problem,” Michael smiled and stood up too, to show her out. “It was worth it just to find that hair.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Do you think there’s anything else the forensics team missed?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so. I did a thorough look just then and I couldn’t see anything.” She held up her little pocket magnifier. “They’re pretty good with these things.”

  “They seem it. Maybe I should get one.”

  “Fancy yourself as a bit of a detective, do you?” She smiled.

  “Well, I’d like to help out on the investigation as much as I can.”

  “You’re certainly doing that.” The pair of them started to walk out as Michael led her to the elevator and down to the ground floor. “The best way you can help out is by getting those names for me, and having a good think…about anyone else who might have held a grudge against Mr. Preston for some reason, anyone else who might have considered themselves an enemy of his.”

  “I will do,” Michael replied enthusiastically, offering out his hand and giving hers a shake as he bid her goodbye. “See you tomorrow!”

  “See you tomorrow,” she nodded curtly and disappeared into the night.

  Michael turned and headed straight back upstairs, into the ‘murder room’. His imagination had been fueled by her visit, and he was now more determined than ever to help catch the killer. He gritted his teeth and fought against his desire to puke as he slowly got down onto his knees by the pool of blood and began to examine it in more detail, looking for anything the cops may have missed. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be in there without a cop present but hell, it was his goddamn building; he owned the place now and surely he could go where he pleased.

  But as Sal had already said, there wasn’t anything else. Either that or he was just incapable of seeing it. He slowly got back to his feet, feeling slightly stiff. He was getting a bit too old to be scrambling down on his hands and knees. Maybe he should get one of those magnifier things. Maybe he should leave the investigating to the cops and just help out where he could. He could at least do some online rooting around.