Page 64 of Daddy's Princess

“Brat.” Oliver gives my bottom a firm spank. “Be good.”

I flutter my eyelashes at him. “I’m always a good girl.”

Oliver laughs at that and squeezes my butt hard enough that I moan at the slight ache. God, I love that feeling when something rides the edge between pleasure and pain. “I sincerely hope not. I like you a little bratty.”

Reluctantly, we both get up and dressed. Thankfully, Oliver has two spare shirts in the closet because, somehow my shirt ended up ripped in whole yanking off clothes frenzy. Even though the shirt is definitely oversized, it doesn’t look horrible once I tuck it into my skirt and roll the sleeves.

“So, what do we do about Britney?” I ask once we are both fully dressed.

“I think we should invite her to a little meeting and make her an offer she can’t refuse. What do you think?”

“Is it a swim with the fishes kind of offer?”

“More like an, I-will-ruin-you-if-you-don’t-agree kind of offer.”

I pout. “Not nearly as fun as my idea.”

Oliver laughs. “No, but my way is a lot less illegal.”

“Legalshmegal. She deserves to take a long walk off a short pier.”

“Maybe so, but we’ll do this one my way.”

“If you insist. The next girl that kisses you gets a dip in the ocean, though.”

He pulls me in for a kiss. “That seems fair.”

23

Oliver

It doesn’t take longto get everything in place for a very special presentation of the new storyboards for the author of Wildwood. When I called Britney and asked if she would be interested in hearing about a new contract opportunity with Titan-Rose and a presentation to the author, it took her about two seconds to say yes. Then I had to bite my tongue as she gloated for ten minutes about how she knew I’d come crawling back to her eventually.

What Britney doesn’t know is that the presentation of the storyboards happened an hour ago. Contracts were signed between Titan-Rose and Sugar for the rights to use her artwork for Wildwood. The one condition that Sugar set was that she be given complete creative freedom and that she be the only artist that touches them from start to finish. She doesn’t want her artwork to be treated like an assembly line.

The way she said it stung because that was one of the things Jeff talked me into starting shortly after I took over. He said it would cut back on time and drive productivity without sacrificing quality. Obviously, that was wrong and will be the first thing to change after I do a little restructuring in the design department.

Britney shows up just on time, dressed in a bright red power suit. Unfortunately, she’s chosen to leave one too many buttons of her shirt undone, and the skirt is about three inches too short to be professional. She looks more like a streetwalker turned office worker than an actual professional.

“Good, you’re here. Have a seat we were just about to get started,” I indicate the seat to my left, directly across from Sugar’s seat at my right.

Britney gives Sugar a sneer but otherwise doesn’t act in the least bit concerned that she’s about to present artwork she stole. She’s got balls, that’s for sure. I click on the first picture, so it projects on the screen behind me. “How about we start with this one.”

She doesn’t miss a beat in telling the author, my mother, Theo, and two attorneys Titan-Rose has on retainer the same thing she told me in my office Monday. “And what about this one?” We go through all the images, Britney bragging about what her thought process was for each drawing. When I click to the next image, her words falter as she tries to take in what she’s seeing. It’s a zoomed-in look at the patch of flowers where Sugar showed me her signature.

It takes her a moment to realize what she’s seeing. Once I’m sure she sees it, I click to the next. It’s the image of the old woman, zoomed in on her hair where Sugar has very cleverly hidden her name. Britney’s eyes widen once she sees what we’ve all already seen. I click to the next. Sugar’s name is in the bark of a tree in this picture. I end on an up-close look at the naterwhals’s nose. Within the delicate groves is Sugar’s name.

Britney’s mouth is agape, and her eyes are wide from shock. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to sign this,” I push a carefully drafted letter that states she has no claim on any of the images she tried to pass off as her own and that she agrees to return the sketchbook to Sugar. “Or we are going to have to press charges for stealing and attempted fraud.”

She doesn’t even argue or try to deny it. Without a word, she signs the documents agreeing to everything. She gives Sugar one more ugly look before walking out the door and out of our lives forever.

* * *

A couple hours later,Sugar’s sketchbook is returned by courier. The look of pure joy as she flips through the pages is a sight to behold. She’s so fucking beautiful and seeing her happy like this is my ultimate goal. For the rest of my days, I want to see that level of happiness radiating from her.

“Let’s go home, babygirl.”

She directs that beaming smile at me. “Okay, daddy.”

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