Page 12 of Daddy's Game

“Shut up.”

He fell silent, and I gestured at the door.

“Get out. You’re fired.”

“Fired?” he said in a tiny voice. I ignored him and took his place at the podium.

“All right, people, I want ideas on how we can turn this around….”

In the end, I fired two more execs I felt were underperforming and promoted new ones to take their places. We had a pretty solid plan in place to turn things around for Technodyne when I left the meeting room three hours later.

I asked my secretary to make arrangements for the parking lot repair. I couldn’t help thinking about Grace all day long, even when I’d been running the Technodyne meeting.

Part of me wanted to just get her into bed and get it out of my system, so to speak. I told myself she was too young, and in opposition to me to boot.

And yet, as I looked over the construction crew’s estimate for the center parking lot, I realized the truth. I was hooked on Grace.

What was happening to me?

5

GRACE

The dinner with Brock Richards did not go the way I expected. At all.

I had thought he would try to work me, to get me to sell the center. Yet he’d only made one attempt all night, and the rest of the time he was both attentive and thoughtful. I realized just as the door closed behind me that it had felt very much like a date.

And then, I’d gone and told him that I would go out with him again if he fixed my pothole ridden parking lot. The lot certainly needed the help, but I couldn't deny that part of me had wanted to say yes regardless.

A lot of men I’d dated before spent all of the time talking about themselves. Brock hadn’t felt any need to justify what a great guy he was. He’d been calm, relaxed, and confident almost to a fault. I found him amusing, even charming.

I undressed for bed and lay on my back, staring out the window at a neon sign flashing on and off. Brock was living rent free in my mind. I couldn't get him out of my thoughts, but what was really disturbing was that I didn’t want to.

If only he weren’t so much older. If only he weren’t my enemy, trying to get my center out from underneath me. If only I weren’t so jaded about matters of the heart that I could see the possibilities…

If, if, if. I could have killed myself with so many ifs. In the end, I drifted off into a restless, haunted slumber. I couldn’t remember my dreams, but I had a feeling they were fiery and involved a certain billionaire industrialist.

The next day, I went into the center to work. I was surprised to find a construction crew hard at work, preparing to resurface the parking lot.

The crew had enough foresight to do the lot half at a time, so I still had a place to park. I gave them a wary eye as I walked into the center. It looked like Brock really was putting his money where his mouth was, again.

I made it inside and went to my office. After a short while of pretending to work, I heard a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I called loudly, so as to be heard over the construction crew working outside.

The door opened and Selma walked inside. Her eyes lit up, and her mouth stretched into a grin.

“So…how was it?”

I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“How was what?’

“Don’t even play dumb with me, girl. How was your date with Brock Richards?’

“Oh please, it wasn’t a date,” I said with a sigh.

“So you say. What happened? Spill the tea.”

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