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

by Natasha Spencer

  “You don’t know?” Leslie gasped. “You mean he hasn’t told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  Everyone in the salon turned to listen to the conversation. Chanda was acutely aware of their eyes boring into her head.

  “He murdered his brother, Chanda. He shot him in cold blood ten years ago. Somehow he got off in the trial but he’s guilty, that’s for sure. It took some time for me to get over that. And then now he’s all tormented about it. He’s a real moody guy. You’re a saint, dealing with all of his baggage.”

  Chanda’s hands started shaking. “Excuse me,” she told Leslie. She hurried through the beaded curtains in the back to chug from a bottle of water and try to steady her nerves.

  “You OK?” Miss Ling asked. She was at her computer, doing the books for the salon.

  “Of course,” Chanda managed. But she wasn’t. She felt dizzy. She had always wondered what had happened to Chris’s brother, and this news disoriented her totally.

  “You have client?” Miss Ling pushed her glasses down the bridge of her nose.

  “Yes.” Guiltily, Chanda returned to the front. She tried not to shake as she sat in front of Leslie.

  “Sorry to upset you, doll. I figured you knew.” Leslie snapped her gum and the scent of mint assaulted Chanda’s nose.

  “I’m sure there’s a whole explanation for it all,” Chanda said hastily. She just wanted to finish this disgusting woman’s nails and send her on her way. Hopefully Leslie tipped well, after the bomb she had dropped.

  “No, it’s pretty open and shut. They were running drugs together from Mexico. Right up I-35 from Laredo. Then they’d distribute it from the ranch. Everyone knew they were doing it. That’s partly why the family got so rich. Then one day there was some sort of hold-up, and I guess there wasn’t enough coke in the shipment. So your husband turned on his brother and shot him for the betrayal. They couldn’t prove that he was the one holding the gun because there were some other goons there and they couldn’t prove that Chris was really involved.” Leslie shrugged. “But we all know he was the one who did it. He’s always been a bit…off. Volatile. He even threatened to shoot me the last time I saw him a while back. I went out to the ranch because I hadn’t seen him for a while and he was all looney, threatening to shoot me. You know what, girl, I feel for you. You married a real basket case and you didn’t even know. So if you ever need help, call me. I’ll get you out of there. I know how to deal with Chris.”

  Chanda set down the tips that she was trying to fit again. “I think you should leave,” she said.

  Leslie’s eyes flashed. “No need to get touchy here. I am just looking out for you. Sisters take care of each other.”

  “Leave,” Chanda insisted.

  Leslie bolted up, knocking her chair over. “I spend a lot of money at this salon! Wait till Miss Ling hears about this!”

  Miss Ling burst through the bead curtain. “What is going on here?”

  Chanda burst into tears. “I can’t do this,” she sobbed. “She needs to go.”

  “This bitch just kicked me out for no reason!” Leslie cried. “I don’t deserve this! You guys will never get my business again!” She turned on the heels of her cowgirl boots and stormed out, slamming the glass door behind her. The welcome bell jangled violently.

  “Miss Leslie!” Miss Ling tried to chase after her. When she returned into the salon, she turned on Chanda. “Pack your things and leave, now.”

  “I need to explain –“

  “No. You go.” Miss Ling pointed to the door ferociously.

  Chanda scurried to the back to collect her bag. Then she called Chris as she slunk away from the store, crying. She passed by Leslie’s truck; Leslie was sitting inside, fixing her with the meanest smirk.

  Once in the air-conditioned safety of her car, she immediately called Chris.

  “Yes, baby?” Chris answered.

  “Your ex-girlfriend Leslie came in.”

  “Leslie?” Chris’s voice was hard. “Leslie is not my ex-girlfriend.”

  “She told me about what you did to your brother. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  Chris gulped. “Chanda, just come home. I’ll explain everything.”

  “I can’t go home to a murderer.”

  “I didn’t kill my brother,” Chris started to sob. “Everyone thinks the worst of me, but I didn’t kill Jake. He was my brother. I loved him to death. How could I kill him?”

  “What happened, then?” Chanda cried.

  “I will tell you. Just come home.”

  “Leslie told me you tried to shoot her. I’m scared to come home now.”

  “Leslie said what?” Chris turned away from the phone for a moment to cuss. Then he said, “I never tried to shoot Leslie. That’s ridiculous. I knew she would try to mess with you. I knew someone would. Please just come home. I won’t hurt you. I’m exactly the man that you fell in love with. I just need a chance to explain myself.”

  Reluctantly, Chanda hung up the phone and turned her car on. She drove home as slowly as she possible could. She had only been here for five months, but this place had become warm and familiar to her. Now it all seemed strange and horrible. What could she possibly do? What would happen if Chris proved to be dangerous? She had read about horrible men, serial killers and abusers, preying on women like her online. Had she fallen into such a trap? Then she thought of Chris’s face, and how tenderly she loved him. How could he be someone awful who murdered his own brother?

  When she arrived home, Chris was standing at the edge of the driveway, and he came to the car immediately. Chanda shrank back from him when he opened her door. He groaned. “Now you’re afraid of me. Great,” he said sarcastically.

  “Sorry,” Chanda muttered. “I am just…shocked.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “And we’re not alone. John is down in his cabin and Rita is cooking lunch. If I tried to hurt you, they would hear your screams. So let’s go inside and talk this over.”

  Chanda accepted his hand and followed him inside. She wished that she could just stop shaking. Chris had her take a seat at the kitchen table and then took a seat across from her. “I should have told you all of this before. I tried before you took the job with Miss Ling. But I was scared that I would lose you. Listen. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I did kill my brother.”

  Chanda sharply inhaled. The world faltered around her.

  “But listen.” He held up his hand for her patience. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t murder him. He…he was in some bad things. He and my father ran drugs together for a cartel. I wasn’t involved but I knew what was going on. September 24th, 2007, I knew that something wasn’t right. Some scary men came and were holding my brother in the barn. I went down to the barn to investigate and found that a man was holding my brother at gunpoint, trying to get revenge for some missing coke. My brother used, so I think he helped himself to the coke. But he didn’t deserve to lose his life for it. I pulled my gun and shot at the man, but he moved at the last moment and the bullet landed in my brother instead.” Chris suddenly sobbed and buried his head in his hands. “The way he screamed out in pain kills me to this day. He died a few days later in the hospital from internal bleeding. The only thing that saved me from a conviction was the fact that my father cleared all of the coke out of the barn by the time the cops arrived. I was honest in court and I pled involuntary manslaughter and they gave me a year in jail. My family could never forgive me. They all blame me. The town blames me, too.”

  Chanda nodded slowly. “I see,” she said finally.

  “Are you going to leave me?” Chris asked, pulling his hands from his face slowly. Tears sparkled on his cheeks.

  “No,” Chanda said. She leaned forward and placed a comforting hand over his. “I cannot believe that this happened to you but I am very sorry. What Leslie told me upset me greatly. But I won’t leave you. I believe what you tell me. You are a good soul and a good man.”

  Chapter 14
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  Chris woke up the next morning holding Chanda. Chris gazed at Chanda’s peaceful sleeping face, amazed that she was still with him despite knowing his dark past. He was truly blessed, he knew that for sure now. He gently pecked her on the forehead and she awoke.

  “Let’s get some breakfast,” he told her.

  She nodded and eased her way out of bed. As she went through her closet, she asked him what they had planned for the day. It was as if nothing had changed.

  “First we need to get your job back. I can’t believe that Miss Ling would fire you over that.”

  “I don’t think she fired me. She just sent me home for the day. I will speak with her.”

  “That’s the plan,” Chris shrugged.

  Chanda turned to face him and sighed as she laid her dress on the bed. “Chris, we can’t go on like this.”

  Chris froze. Were things worse than he had thought? “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that we can’t keep living without your family. You can’t keep letting your family hate you.”

  “There’s nothing I can do about that. They made up their minds long ago about what they think of me.”

  “You can try to make amends,” she suggested. “I will go with you. I want to meet them. I want to bring us together.”

  Chris shook his head. “It won’t happen. They all blame me for what happened with Jake. And I suppose they should. After all, I did kill him.”

  “But you should explain your story.”

  “I already did. They know the official story. They don’t accept it, though. They still think I’m a bad person.”

  “If you go to them and say sorry, maybe they will think of you differently.”

  The very thought of facing his family sent Chris into a tailspin of emotions. He couldn’t handle the thought. “Chanda, I haven’t spoken to them in years,” he explained. “They hate me. I can’t do this.”

  “Please, Chris. You must. It is not right to be so distant from your family. It is time to make amends.”

  Chris sat down and covered his face in his hands. “I would not even know where to begin.”

  “Begin with your aunts and uncles. And do you have grandparents?”

  “I have a grandfather on my father’s side,” Chris said slowly. He folded his hands on his lap. “There is my father’s sister, Carol, and my mother’s brother, Jerry. And my cousins.”

  “Do you still have their phone numbers?” Chanda urged. She knelt before him and took his hands in hers. “I know you feel overwhelmed. And scared. It is understandable that you feel this way. But I know how important family is. You don’t want to spend years not talking or you will lose them.”

  “Let’s take care of your work situation,” Chris said slowly. “Then we will talk more about this.”

  “No,” Chanda shook her head. “I want you to call them now.”

  “You need to call Miss Ling, then,” Chris told her.

  Chanda nodded. When she went to retrieve her phone, she found that she had already missed a call from the nail salon. Eagerly she called Miss Ling back. “Yes?” Miss Ling answered after one ring. She was always prompt about answering the phone.

  “It is Chanda.”

  “Ah. Chanda. You come to work today, no?”

  Chanda gulped. “I must help my husband with something very important. But I want to come back. If you will have me.”

  “Yes.” Miss Ling took a deep inhale, and Chanda knew that she was smoking a cigarette. Sometimes she would go behind the salon and have a cigarette after particularly hard days. “You come back. You one of my best girls. But you treat my customers nice.”

  “I promise that I will. I want to explain –“

  “No. I know that girl is a bad girl. I know why you yell at her. But no more, OK?”

  Chanda smiled. It was nice, to be chastised as if she were a girl again, in trouble with her mother. In many ways, Miss Ling was like a mother, helping Chanda flourish in her new nail career. They had very impersonal conversations, but there was an air of stern affection in Miss Ling’s treatment of Chanda.

  Chanda returned to Chris. “I can go back to work tomorrow. Miss Ling says it’s OK. But today we work on your problem.”

  Chris shook his head. “I can handle this on my own.”

  “No, you can’t. You will not do it. I must make sure that you do it.” Chanda picked up Chris’s phone and tossed it into his lap. “Please, Chris, you must.”

  Chris reluctantly picked up the phone. “I don’t have their numbers in here. But there’s an address book in my foyer table drawer. It’s small, with a red leather cover. Will you get it for me, please?”

  Chanda fetched the address book and Chris rifled through it. First he located his aunt Carol’s number. With shaking fingers, he dialed the number, then hesitated. Chanda gave him an encouraging prod. He resolutely pressed “Dial,” then waited as the phone rang.

  “Hello?” a sweet woman’s voice answered.

  “Aunt Carol?” Chris sounded like he was about to burst into tears. “It’s Chris.”

  There was silence. “Chris,” she said finally. “I have been thinking of you lately.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes….I have wanted to speak with you. I just didn’t know what to say.”

  Chris let out his pent-up breath, and then half-laughed in relief. “I have wanted to speak with you too. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. I feel that there is a lot left unsaid between us.”

  “I didn’t mean to kill Jake, Aunt Carol. I promise that I didn’t. You know how I loved my brother.” Tears began to spill down his cheeks but he maintained control.

  “I know. I know you didn’t. It had just been very hard accepting what happened. But I have been meaning to write you a letter. I wanted to say…I wanted to tell you that I forgive you. All is forgiven, Chris. And I have prayed long and hard and I know that Jake forgives you, too. He is at peace and he is watching you from Heaven.”

  Chris suppressed a sob.

  “I am sure that you are very guilty. Now you must forgive yourself. Just know that I still love you.”

  “I love you, too. And I want us to be a family again. I got married and – I wish that I had had a wedding. A proper one, with you and Grampa there.”

  She paused. “Congratulations,” she said finally. “I would like to meet your new wife….Can I see you sometime soon, Chris? Can we sit and talk?”

  “I can fly to Austin tomorrow and meet with you,” Chris said excitedly.

  “Please do. I think we need to sit down and talk. Perhaps you can bring your wife.”

  “She – she is working tomorrow.” Chris glanced up at Chanda with regret in his eyes. “But you will meet her soon. Whenever you like. I can even bring you back here to meet her.”

  “That sounds good.” Aunt Carol exhaled long and hard. “I need to go. I’m sorry, Chris, but I am just very overcome right now. Please come tomorrow, all right?”

  “Can I see Grampa?” Chris added. “Is he still living with you?”

  “We will visit him at his assisted living home together,” she assured him. “Good-bye, Chris….I love you.”

  Chris hung up and sobbed for a long time. Chanda held him as he cried. Finally, he gently pushed her away. “I have another call to make,” he reminded her.

  She nodded. “You can do it. You are doing so well. See, that went well, didn’t it?”

  “Aunt Carol was my favorite. I can’t bear to hear what Aunt Linda and Uncle Jerry have to say. They’re much…different.”

  “Call them,” she urged. “It may go better than you assume it will.”

  He found their number and called them. But he received an error tone. He sighed in frustration. “Just when I was ready,” he grumbled.

  “Can you look it up?” Chanda asked.

  “I suppose so. I guess they moved.” He went to his computer and looked up a phone book. When he found their number, he nodded. “They did move.” He swiveled on the chai
r to face Chanda. “Can I have a moment, please, honey?”

  Chanda nodded. She looked stung that he didn’t want her there, but she seemed to understand his need for privacy. He didn’t want to be humiliated in front of her. His stomach twisted in knots as he dialed the new number with courage that he didn’t know that he had. Chanda had only unlocked something that he had wanted himself anyway: to make amends.

  The phone rang three times. Just as Chris almost lost his nerve, Aunt Linda answered. Her rough voice was unmistakable.

  “Hello, Aunt Linda?” his voice trembled embarrassingly.

  She was silent.

  “It’s Chris,” he managed.

  “I know who it is,” she responded crisply.

  “Oh. I…”

  “Is this some part of a twelve-step program? Making amends?”

  “Something like that,” Chris said forlornly. “Only it’s not a program. I wanted to do it of my own accord. I know that you are – hurt. I know that I tore this family apart with what I did. But we have all suffered so much. I don’t want to be apart any longer.”

  Aunt Linda was silent again. The suspense was killing Chris. At last she said crisply, “We are aware that it was an accident. But what I – what we cannot forgive is how you were involved with him in drugs. If you hadn’t been messing around with those bad people, this never would have happened.”

  “I just don’t understand why you get that idea,” Chris faltered. “There were no drugs on the scene.”

  “Oh, Chris, don’t lie to me,” she snapped. “We all knew what you two were. What you two were up to. He would still be here if not for your poor choices.”

  “Those were poor choices he made himself. I have worked very hard to forgive myself, and I still kick myself every day. I miss him, you know?” The amount of emotion that this venture had unearthed scared Chris, as he felt as if he were losing complete control. But as he started to cry, he could sense his aunt softening.