Page 14 of Dating the Daddy

Me

I don’t give a flying fuck what anyone thinks. I’ll meet you at eight o’clock.

She sends back a thumbs-up emoji and I drop my phone on the counter.

Curiosity burns in my gut as I attempt to figure out how the fuck the shadowed nuisance became the most important thing in the world.

The week crawls by in a blur of mundane meetings and never-ending paperwork, a relentless grind I can’t seem to escape. Each night, I find myself calling my baby girl and exchanging quick-witted banter. Our nightly sparring somehow manages to lift the weight off my shoulders. In fact, I’m having to face facts—I’m fucking addicted to her.

But life has a twisted sense of timing, and Thursday rolls around like a freight train barreling toward me. From the get-go, it’s a charade of chaos at the oil company. The morning starts with an unexpected drop in crude prices, and before I can catch my breath, my phone starts ringing off the hook. I’m slammed into crisis management mode, pacing the hardwood floor of my office, running a hand over my face in frustration.

Then I get a call that pulls a rug from under my feet and leaves a pit in my stomach. An oil rig has gone up in flames, thick smoke curling into the sky like a hellish beacon. At that moment, I’m no longer just the grumpy CEO of Steele Oil who grumbles about board meetings and market trends. I’m a man who’s responsible for others’ lives, and the weight of that hits hard.

I rush to the site, my mind racing as I juggle logistics and the health of the injured crew. Thank God the men got out with severe but non-life-threatening injuries. I’m relieved, but guilt gnaws at me like a feral animal. I should have done something to prevent this. It’s my job to ensure safety on the rigs, and the thought of my men being hurt under my watch is crippling.

After the emergency crew leaves, I stand alone on the edge of the site, surveying the damage, feeling the ash swirl around melike some toxic confetti. I pull out my phone, staring at it like it’s a loaded gun. There’s only one person I want to talk to. My matchmaking fairy has become a surprising anchor in my stormy sea.

I shoot her a text, fingers trembling slightly as I type out my fears.

Me

There was a fire on one of my rigs. Three men were injured.

Fuck. I probably shouldn’t be announcing this to anyone before our PR firm has a chance to do its job, but I need her calming influence right now. So, I quickly add.

Me

It’s not public knowledge yet, so I’m trusting you with this.

I hit send, the anticipation curling in my gut as I wait for her reply. It feels like sharing a piece of myself that I’ve locked away for so long. But there’s a trust forming, even amidst the secrets between us.

Her response comes quicker than I expected.

Baby Girl

I’m so sorry to hear that. Is everyone going to be okay?

Her concern hits me like a warm wave, and I find myself letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Me

They’re going to survive. But it’s my company and my responsibility.

Baby Girl

You’re human, Aidan. You can’t control everything that happens.

Her words slot into place, soothing something deep in my soul.

Me

Doesn’t mean I can’t try. I should have done better.

Baby Girl

Just worrying about shows what a great boss you are. I’m here if you need anything, and I’d never hurt you.

The sincerity in her words washes over and I believe her.

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