Daddy’s Dirty Boss

by West, Jade

  “We’re going to take you out tonight to celebrate, sweetie,” he said. “Me, you and Mum, to get pizza at Francesco’s.”

  I loved getting pizza at Francesco’s, and loved going out with Mum and Dad, but I saw Miles’s smile drop hard behind Dad, and knew full well he’d been hoping for an escape route too.

  Crap, how we needed one.

  “Great, thanks,” I said to Dad, and meant it, even if it was a poop of a fly in my Miles Lindon hopes and dreams for the night.

  Dad gave Miles a slap on the shoulder before he left. “I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night,” he told him. “Thanks again for helping Faith this week. She did so well, and so much of that is because of you.”

  He was right, but Miles took none of the credit, shaking his head and grabbing Dad’s shoulder right back.

  “Faith has to take all the credit for this,” he said. “She was truly exceptional today, and that’s all down to her. She’s a truly talented auctioneer. We’re lucky to have her with us.”

  My cheeks burned up and my heart swelled and I couldn’t hold back the smile as the both of them nodded their heads at me.

  This was really it. Here and now on this Friday afternoon. The chance I’d been hoping for. The chance to fully explore my chance of a career on that podium.

  It had been every single thing I’d been aiming for. And more. Always so much more.

  The Miles Lindon effect. The Miles Lindon world as well as the man.

  It was just such a shame it put all my future plans into perspective, and made me realise with a cold, hard reality that a career in finance really wasn’t ever going to be enough to capture my heart. Sensible road of a career or not.

  I didn’t want it. Not finance and not Warwick. Everything I wanted was here and now.

  “Come straight home after work,” Dad said, and as usual I found myself nodding. “We’re going to have such an excellent celebration to mark such an excellent day.”

  I didn’t doubt it. Not for a second.

  I only wished it could be the celebration that would mean the full deal for me. The real full deal in my real world, so hidden.

  I only wished Miles could be there too.

  Chapter Thirty

  Miles

  There is only one thing to do when you have a churn of chaotic feelings in my experience. You force your brain through the whole sorry lot of them and concentrate on something productive.

  That is what I did on Friday evening when I would have loved to be out celebrating an excellent first auction attempt with my beautiful princess. I pulled my mind out from the pit of guilt, and the want, and the despair at needing something so badly forbidden. I pushed myself past the pondering of what if and set myself onto the task of what would.

  What would be for Faith, that is.

  Seeing her up at that podium, leading the auction like a woman at place in her true vocation, was magnificent. Her enthusiasm was fierce enough to light up the room and keep it ablaze the whole way through.

  It had made some things so shockingly clear to me. Far too clear to ignore.

  Watching her set off for the conventional accountant’s study in Warwick would be a travesty without helping her stay fixed on her true ambition. And I could do that. I could be the one to help keep her heading for the real stars in her sky.

  So I started.

  I fired off some emails to friends and acquaintances in the antiques industry close by to the university, requesting they offer some training and support opportunities for Faith around her studies. I did some research into the university itself and how flexible they were in their degree placements, and was becoming pleasantly optimistic by the time I’d finished.

  There was a chance, even if just a sliver of one, that Faith could step away from the road she didn’t want to walk down, and take a leap for the path she really craved. And I could help her do that.

  I could give the university a testimonial on her industry experience and talents, and how she was already a skilled student for their antiques and collectibles degree course. I could offer some expertise free of charge to their education services, as an incentive to them helping, and financial assistance in a sponsorship capacity as an additional incentive on top of all that, should I need to.

  It was an extended hand to help my beautiful girl step up onto her own ladder ahead. For her benefit, not for mine, and certainly not her father’s. It wasn’t some precursor to a magical universe where we could miraculously be accepted as a couple by her parents and the wider world. But that was ok. It had to be.

  My motivations for everything in my world right now were solely for her, not for me.

  My Friday evening turned into a work from home Saturday, which slowly morphed from that into a looming Saturday evening. I had an impending sense of doom as I showered and dressed myself in one of my casual suits for the night, certainly not looking forward to sharing a dining table with Erica and the poor people whose friendship I’d been betraying like a prick of late.

  I picked up some flowers and a bottle of wine en route and ended up pressing the doorbell at their place with a glittering false smile, feeling extremely awkward as Diane opened the door with a grin on the entirely opposite side of the spectrum.

  Hers was genuine. Genuine and thoroughly pleased to see me.

  It only made me feel even more of a Judas.

  “Miles!” she gushed. “So glad you could make it!”

  She leaned in for cheek kisses, and let out a very polite thank you as I handed her the roses. I hung my coat on the rack, then gave her the wine bottle, and she read the name out loud as we headed on through to the dining room.

  I could have cursed aloud to find Erica was already there and seated, her fingers wrapped tightly around her glass stem as she raised it to me. Holy fuck, it had been a while since I’d had to socialise with her outside of the office.

  I was already relishing the prospect of being able to bail home for the night.

  “So lovely to see you,” she sneered, acting like such a fucking superstar in her posh little dress with her posh little jacket.

  I played ignorant, casting her a token smile as I took my seat beside her. Her perfume was strong and reeking of violets, always so heady. It reminded me of her moans in the bedroom, and my gut did a lurch at the disgust of the memories. The disgust of her.

  I genuinely had no idea what had kept me indulging in her bullshit for so fucking long. Or so I thought for one solitary second.

  Because I did know. I knew exactly what had kept me indulging in her bullshit for so fucking long.

  I put up with her bullshit, because I was so convinced of my own. My own bullshit. My own sordid nature. My own disgust at myself.

  But a little girl with a beautiful heart had changed all that.

  Changed me.

  I shot my eyes around the room, but that beautiful girl was nowhere to be seen, and it didn’t look like she was going to be.

  There were four places laid, which didn’t really surprise me. Not once had I ever seen Faith included as part of the grown up’s social activities in her parents’ house. She was still their little girl, upstairs for an early bedtime most likely.

  I only wished I could be upstairs joining her. Yet again it felt such a fucking travesty to have to hide so fucking much.

  Erica raised her glass again as Colin headed on through with his. The easiness at which he grinned at her showed full well how long he’d been working in the property office. He was oblivious to every little crap of disdain we’d been growing between us, smiling across at us like we were some loved up couple over for a double date.

  “Really great that you’re here,” he said, and Diane came to pour me a glass of wine to match theirs.

  We held them up, for a great to see you toast, and the whole thing was such a shitty charade when all I really wanted to do was confess everything. My sins. My betrayal. My love for the woman upstairs.

  Instead we spoke about the office. About Jim from the renta
ls team and how he had a new puppy. About politics and the crap going on with Brexit for the five hundredth year in a row and whether we were ever going to resolve it.

  We ate a delicious shepherd’s pie and talked the regular chatter, and it was nice enough, but still all I wanted was that girl upstairs.

  It was only a matter of time before Diane grinned over at me with a sparkle in her eyes.

  “I heard our little girl was quite an auctioneer today.”

  I felt Erica bristle next to me, doing an ok job to hide her fury under another swig of wine.

  “She was an incredible auctioneer today,” I told the mother of the woman I loved. “She is quite a talent. Her natural calling, it would seem.”

  That’s when Colin butted in with a scoff.

  “You sound just like Dad used to, always going on about following your calling in life.” He paused. “Really it’s less about the credenzas and more about the credit control.”

  I held my glass steady. “You really think accountancy is the best route for Faith?”

  He nodded. “I think accountancy is the smart route for Faith. The sensible route for Faith. She can chase after fun little hobbies when she’s earned her staple income from her real job.”

  “Your dad did alright from antiques,” I countered, and he laughed out loud.

  “Dad did ok kidding himself that his collectibles meant something. We sold it all off as worthless when we cleared his house, and you know it. You were there.” He sighed. “So much money wasted. He could have done so much more with it.”

  It was true that Bernard’s antiques had taken a nose dive in valuation before he passed away, but that hadn’t counted for much in his eyes. I remembered talking to him before he took the last turn in ill health, and he was still alive with love for those stunning pieces of furniture he’d valued so much.

  Colin used to be right there alongside him, but his cynicism had grown so much.

  “You know I like them, but you know as well as I do that antiques are always turbulent,” Colin said, interjecting a relevant point to my thoughts. “Careers are not. You know how excitable Faith gets about these auction shows. She’ll still be able to watch them, she’ll just have more of a steady career in front of her to thank me for down the line.”

  Erica nodded along, clearly aware of how counter to my opinions Colin was talking.

  “Faith should crunch the numbers,” she said. “Be the sensible girl enjoying a sensible career. Nothing too adventurous.”

  I despised how both Diane and Colin nodded along with her. Despised how all of them wanted to mould her into a shape so nondescript when she was a creature so vibrant.

  I cleared my throat. “She really did succeed today,” I told them. “She was such an individual at that podium, expressing herself so uniquely. It really did work for her. You saw it yourself, Colin. She was so herself.”

  “Just another reason she needs guiding along the right road,” her father said. “Too much freedom and she tends to veer off on her own little path.”

  “A great path, surely?” I asked, trying not to inject too much venom in my tone, and he managed a nod, but then a laugh.

  He raised a fresh glass of wine to both Erica and me. “Maybe one day, you two will have a sunset baby, and you can see for yourself what you end up wanting for your little girl.”

  Erica didn’t say a word, just swirled that wine in her glass. And it was strange, just how bristling she was. Burning up with so much unspoken, just fuck knows what.

  I didn’t have a clue what to say either, just stared over dumbstruck at the implication that I would have a daughter with Erica Tate. She would be a black widow that would likely kill me once I’d knocked her up, if getting pregnant was seriously on her radar.

  The thought almost made me retch.

  “Your daughter has so much passion,” I insisted, pulling the conversation back to Faith. “It will be wasted if she doesn’t express it.”

  It was Diane’s turn to pipe up next.

  “Maybe she can express a whole load more of it before she settles down for university,” she said, and I raised an eyebrow in query. She turned to Colin to convey some thoughts before she continued, and he looked quite aware of where she was headed.

  “There’s a cat sanctuary fundraiser happening right now,” she said, and I nodded a little, vaguely aware of it from the local newspaper.

  “The volunteer sanctuary with charity programs for the city kids?”

  “That’s it,” she said. “They’re doing loads over the next few months to get the initial building budget together.”

  “Go on,” I pushed. “You think that could be an outlet for Faith?”

  Her smile was a mother’s so loving of her daughter. It gave me another guilty pang in my ribs.

  “Well, you know how she is about cats,” she said. “You are the one who got her Miss Tiddles, after all. If there is any way she could put some of her time into helping with a charity fundraiser, I think it would be a good thing. To keep her occupied.”

  “To keep her away from Stephen fucking Jones,” Colin sneered, and it was obvious they’d both been talking about this distraction from this imaginary shit storm.

  I wondered if that was why they’d really invited me over tonight. Not for the company, or for indulging me in one of my favourite shepherd’s pies, but to step my involvement in keeping Faith away from Stephen Jones up to a whole other level.

  “You think I could help?” I asked, perfectly ready to cut the fluff and pomp and get down to the detail.

  They looked at each other, and I could feel Erica looking at me.

  “We were thinking maybe she could use her experience in the office, with the antiques world, to maybe organise a charity auction to help with the cat sanctuary.”

  My heart started thumping at the thought. Of Faith being so involved with something so powerful and so structured.

  “Of course, it would be out of office hours,” Diane added. “Not taking out of her work time, and we appreciate that she’d need your help, but it would be for a good cause, and we really think that–”

  “I’ll do it,” I said, without so much as flinching. “I’ll happily invest time into helping Faith create and run a charity auction. I’m sure the cats will appreciate our efforts hugely, as will the kids who benefit from taking care of them.”

  Erica’s eyes were still scorching, trying to weigh me up.

  Diane and Colin gripped each other’s hands on the table top, clearly relieved to have some imaginary solution to keeping Faith busy and out of mischief.

  Holy shit, how reality could be such a mirror image to the one set out in front of people. They were pushing her right into me. Us right into each other. All for the stupid illusion that they were protecting her from a guy she’d never wanted.

  Still, at least the cats would do alright out of it.

  In the strangest of cues, I felt my phone buzz in my inside pocket. I took it out as Colin poured another wine for all four of us, being careful to call up my message under the table and out of Erica’s stare.

  It was just as well I did.

  The message was from the pretty girl upstairs, complete with a photo.

  A photo of her in bed in her bedroom. In a pink lacy nightdress, with the straps down low.

  She looked absolutely fucking beautiful, and clearly fucking hungry for it.

  Come up if you can, her message said, even if just for a minute.

  I didn’t waste a fucking second, getting right to it.

  I placed a hand on my belly, and let out a polite little belch, mocking up my imminent need for a trip away from the table.

  “Please excuse me for a few minutes,” I said. “May I use your bathroom?”

  “Be my guest,” Colin said, and laughed, clearly a few wines in. “You may want to use the upstairs one if you’re needing to hang out there a while.”

  I laughed along with him. “I may well take you up on that,” I told him, and got to my feet
.

  Diane and Colin were oblivious to everything, chatting away quite happily while I headed from the room.

  But Erica’s eyes followed me. Suspicious of something.

  Turns out that it was just as well that even she thought more of me than a fucked up cunt who would fuck the Martins’ little girl.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Faith

  It was so bizarre waiting for Miles in my bedroom, just like I had so many times as a little girl. My heart was thumping, and I was tingling all over, still so damn frustrated I was barred from dinner downstairs with the man I loved.

  I was so excited as the door handle turned. He was so quiet, creeping on in so slowly and closing that door right up behind him.

  Hell, this felt so naughty with Mum and Dad downstairs. I’d never felt like such a bad girl as I did with Miles Lindon in my bedroom with those dirty eyes eating me up.

  “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, but he was straight on over, pacing super quickly across the room and dropping down onto my bed. My arms were up and at him, holding him so tight. Needing this.

  I needed this so much.

  “I’ve missed touching you,” I told him, and he squeezed me back so tight. “I’ve missed being able to see you.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’ve missed this too.”

  He sighed into my hair, then kissed me. My temple first, and then my cheek, peppering kisses to my mouth where his tongue claimed mine.

  I wanted to say so much, but wanted to kiss him more. I wanted to smash all the communication bridges into oblivion and tell him that I loved him. That he was my everything. That I needed him so much it hurt.

  I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want university. I wanted here. I wanted now. I wanted him.

  But I didn’t. I didn’t say a word, just enjoyed the wetness of his mouth against mine and craved so much more.