Accidental Sugar Daddy: A Single Mother, Billionaire Romance Read online

  I'm still thinking of ways I could use the money when his voice pulls me back to Earth.

  "So, you said you want to do some writing while you are part-time?" He asks, remembering an earlier conversation.

  "Yes, I've been working on a book but never have time to write. I think I’ll try this month."

  "What kind of book?"

  "It's kind of like a travel guide to the Smoky Mountains National Park. It has all the historic spots. I have the pictures done and laid out; I just need to get the writing finished. Then start pitching it or maybe I’ll self-publish, who knows."

  "Well, I have some friends in the publishing field, I'd be happy to have them take a look."

  "Of course, you do but, no I want to do this on my own."

  "Listen passing off the book, it's just getting your foot in the door. It will be all you. If it's good they will contact, you if it's not you won’t hear from them. I’ll ask them to take a look, then I’ll stay out of it. The rest is all you. It's not a bad thing to have some connections, you know."

  I know he's right and I guess it can't hurt if he is around when I finish the book. If I finish the book.

  So, I nod my head. "Well, if I get it finished."

  "What are the chances you’ll show me what you’ve done?"

  I shake my head, "I can show you some of the photos I’ve taken for the book." I pull them up on my phone and hand the phone to him.

  "You took these?"

  "Yes."

  "These are amazing," he says. "Is this what you want to do? Books like this?"

  "Yes, I love taking photos and I want to travel and see the national parks. I like writing. This seems to combine all three, but the chances of me making a full-time income are slim, I guess. It's not a traditional travel guide."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The area was settled by people over a hundred years ago. I'm following the life of a family that settled there. It's kind of their story told with photos and info on where to see things today in a guide part in the second half."

  "So, it's like a novel and a guide all in one?"

  "Yeah, kind of like here is their story, now go and trace their footprints yourself thing."

  He just looks at me and doesn't say anything. I start to wonder if he thinks my idea is stupid. I've been doubting it since day one, but Mia keeps pushing me.

  "What?" I finally ask.

  "That's really amazing. I want to read it and I'm not just saying that."

  I know I’m blushing and turn to look out the window trying to hide it. A minute later we are pulling into the restaurant and you can tell just from the parking lot this place isn't going to be cheap.

  All the Lamborghini's, and Mercedes, and a section for cars with drivers like Owens. I start to get a little nervous, but Owen is the perfect gentleman helping me from the car and offering me his arm as we walk inside.

  We are shown right to our table. As we head toward the back, I try to take in the décor.

  It's done in a nautical design that looks expensive. Lots of reclaimed wood. Massively tall ceilings.

  The accent wall in the waiting area has a compass outline painted on it and has to be over twelve feet tall and covered in reclaimed wood.

  The tables have all-white tablecloths, the backs of the chairs have a rope design on them, but the chairs themselves look comfortable. There are candles at every table in what looks like old ship lanterns. I'm not an expert, but they look real and not replicas.

  As we get to the table my eyes go wide, we are sitting next to a window and they are floor to ceiling, overlooking the river. On the other side of the river, you can see downtown, and I can't wait to see it all lit up once the sun sets.

  We get to our table and Owen pulls out my chair before sitting down himself. The hostess hands us our menus and gives him a wink, which causes me to roll my eyes. I guess he sees it because he smiles.

  He orders a bottle of wine that I notice is almost six-hundred dollars, and I have to remind myself he has money and isn't living paycheck to paycheck. The feeling is still weird for me.

  I notice there are no prices for anything on the menu. So, I ask him about it.

  "Don't worry about price Ellie, get what you want."

  I guess he can still see my wheels turning, so he takes the menu from me.

  "Tell me what type of seafood you like, and I’ll order for you. Will you let me do that?" He asks.

  I nod my head, a bit relieved. It takes the pressure off because I know what I like it's the prices I can't get over.

  "Well, my parents used to take me down to Myrtle Beach and we'd eat at those all-you-can-eat seafood places. I loved the crab legs, and the lobster mac and cheese, hush puppies, I even liked some of the fish I think it was red something, and mahi-mahi, I liked the crab cakes and even the calamari just not the tentacle pieces." I take a breath and blush and shut my mouth before I keep blabbering.

  He reaches across the table and takes my hand. "It's nice to see a woman know what food she likes and not just wants a salad. I know exactly what I'm ordering you."

  I smile until the waiter comes back, and listen to Owens order, then my jaw drops. I know at this place, the dish he ordered is easily going to be well over a hundred dollars. He ordered me a 7oz lobster tail, a pound of snow crab legs, with a loaded sweet potato and an order of hush puppies for the table.

  He ordered himself a seafood duo platter, swordfish, and a Key West spiced grouper over rice pilaf, with a loaded baked potato.

  I am now so excited for my meal to come I could hardly wait.

  "Thank you, Owen that was perfect."

  "I mean what I say, I want you to order what you want; money isn't an issue, and I don't want you going home hungry either."

  Over dinner, we take in the views and talk about the memories we have at the river. We discuss the restaurant décor and once the food comes, we talk about the food. He lets me try both of his fish dishes and they are delicious.

  He seems to enjoy watching me eat my dinner and I will say I was disappointed that the crab legs were already cut and open and the meat was ready to just pull out, instead of me having to crack them open.

  The conversation over dinner is easy and because we are both full, he orders the house special cheesecake to share.

  After dinner, we walk along the river. We talk about my book and about his work, though I'm still not sure what exactly it is he does. We then discuss the function next Saturday.

  "It's a charity event for a women's shelter," he says.

  "Does it hold a special meaning to you or just some random charity?" I ask.

  His face clouds over and his mask goes back up. "It holds meaning, but not very many people know why."

  I hold my hands up, "Okay, I'll back off." I try to smile and lighten the mood again.

  We walk in silence for a minute before he speaks again.

  "I'll tell you why if you tell me why I can't pick you up at your door."

  I shrug, "Because my house isn't clean."

  "Come on, lie better than that," he says with a smile.

  So, I think about it. He has my attention and I do want to know about his connection to the women’s shelter. If we do this for the next month and even three more months beyond that, he's bound to find out anyway. I’ve got the money from tonight, so if it’s a deal-breaker the night isn’t a total waste.

  "I'm a single mom of two girls and I don't want you around them. As far as they know, I'm at a meeting tonight."

  He is quiet for a minute before he starts speaking again.

  "My father was an abusive drunk and thankfully I was an only child. My mom left him one night when he was on a bender and the women’s shelter took us in. When he finally sobered up, he found us there but they protected us. They had security there." He stops walking and looks out over the water.

  "They helped my mom get on her feet, get her a job, and later a place to stay. It wasn't the best place, but it was ours. They even helped her with the
divorce and filing charges against my dad. If it hadn't been for the people at that shelter caring about my mom and me, she wouldn't have been able to leave and I know he would have killed her. I don't want to think where my story would be now."

  He's quiet after that and I'm not entirely sure what to say, I know like me he doesn't want pity.

  I lightly touch his arm to draw his attention back to me and out of those painful memories.

  "Does the money from this function help that woman’s shelter specifically?"

  "Yes."

  "Good." I nod my head. We continue walking.

  "What about the kid's dad?"

  "Well, that's another story; do you have another story to tell me?" I ask with a smile.

  He takes a moment to think. "Does this need to be a relationship story?"

  "Yes."

  "I was engaged once, I thought I loved her, and she loved me. She had me fooled and was only after my money. Broke my heart. After that I decided it was best to be upfront about the time I spend with women. They want money so I give it to them instead of being fooled again."

  I shake my head. "How did you find out she was only after your money?"

  "My company was just getting off the ground. I had money but I was still growing it, still busting my ass, and the advisors at the company suggested I get a prenup to cover the company so in the event something happened she couldn't touch it. I hadn't thought of a prenup at all, but my mom convinced me to do it."

  We turn back towards the car. "When I brought it up to her, she went ballistic, yelling and screaming refusing to sign it. Not in a hurt oh you don't trust me way, but saying things like oh no when we divorce, I want my share, I deserve it."

  "Ouch."

  I can tell his smile is forced. "Yeah, the fight ended with her laughing saying she couldn't believe I thought she was in love with me that this is how all rich marriages are and what a naive idiot I was. I've seen her at a few social events still trying to land her rich husband."

  "I hope you don't believe what she said, that is not how rich marriages are. Some of them, sure, heck, maybe a lot of them, but that's their choice. You hold out for the right girl, she's out there."

  "It's easier this way, I have the company when I need it, dates to events, and none of the stress of what they’re really after."

  "That's sad. You’re using it as a way to keep people at a distance."

  He gives a halfhearted laugh, "You aren't the first person to tell me that."

  Deciding it’s time to change the subject, I launch into my story.

  "I was married at eighteen to my high school sweetheart and we’d been together since we were thirteen. We had two kids and when my youngest was almost two, he just up and left. Came home to an empty house and a note saying I can have the saving account, but he moved his paychecks out of the joint account, and he was gone. Changed his phone number and just poof."

  I paused for a moment. "I didn't look too hard for him though. I guess you can say it wasn't love because I cared more about the kids and making sure they were taken care of than finding him. A year later divorce papers showed up. It was smooth, we didn't have much to split up. He has paid child support on time every month and hasn't seen the kids, but once the day the divorce papers were signed. He was in town, saw them for maybe an hour and hasn't since. That was two years ago. I didn't even care enough to find out why he left though I assumed he cheated. I had to have that ‘fun’ talk with my doctor. He takes care of the kids though, they’re on his medical plan, and he sends Christmas and birthday gifts."

  "Do they ask about him?"

  "Yeah, well they did, I said he was on a business trip and didn't know when he was coming home. After a while, they just stopped asking and I stopped making excuses. They asked me once if we were divorced and I said yes. My oldest said good, and there has been no more talk since. They never care much for his gifts, so I don't know."

  He nods and we walk in silence for a bit.

  "When people ask about us when we are out, what do I say?"

  "That we’re dating. No titles needed; they don't need to know more. They might ask or assume, so let them think what they want," he says.

  I nod and we make our way back to the car. On the way home the topics are light, we talk about a few new places opening up to eat at and I just shake my head and say it's up to him.

  Once we get to my place, he helps me from the car and walks me to the front door of my building and reminds me to use the clothing credit this weekend before heading back to the car.

  Soon as I walk in Mia wants a recap of the whole night.

  "And don't you dare leave anything out," she says.

  So, I tell her about the restaurant and him ordering for me. I leave out the story of his mom and dad but tell her about his engagement and that he now knows about the kids. I also leave out the comment about going clothes shopping.

  I tell her how he seemed interested in my book and how he would be willing to ask one of his friends to take a look at it.

  "That's a good thing, right?" Mia asks.

  "Yeah, I guess so."

  Mia heads home across the hall and I head to bed.

  I have trouble sleeping thinking about Owen's story and how he seemed to actually pay attention to what I had to say and even remembered things I've said before.

  I have to remind myself this isn’t real because after one date it’s starting to feel very real.

  Chapter 3

  Ellie

  I don't go clothes shopping that weekend. The thought of asking someone to watch my kids as I go clothes shopping isn't something I can do when there is cleaning and homework and movie night to take care of.

  By Monday I've forgotten all about it. As I'm getting home from picking the kids up from after school care, Owen's car is there.

  Fuck. This right here is why I didn't want to give him my address. I tell the girls to stay in the car and turn on the Frozen soundtrack for them to jam out to.

  "You can't be here," I look at the girls in the car. I look back and see that he is looking too. When he looks back at me, understanding crosses his face.

  "Why didn't you go clothes shopping?" He asks.

  I shrug, "I hate shopping and didn't have a babysitter."

  He looks away like he’s trying to control his emotions, and then looks back at me. "I'll find you a babysitter to be on call."

  "No, I can handle it. I have people I trust. I don't just leave my kids with anyone."

  "What if they aren't available like this weekend?"

  I roll my eyes and realize I'm doing that more around this man than I did during my whole teenage years.

  "They were. I just didn't ask. Asking someone to watch my kids so I can go clothes shopping seems a bit..."

  Before I can finish my sentence, Mia pulls into the parking lot honking her horn. She jumps out of her car with way too much energy and bounces over to me.

  "Hey is this him?" I roll my eyes because I can't seem to stop. "Yes."

  "What's he doing here?" She asks me like he isn't standing a few feet away.

  "He's harassing me because I didn't go clothes shopping this weekend."

  She laughs until she sees my face and his, "Wait, you serious?"

  "Yes," I say.

  "Well clothes aren't cheap," she says looking at him.

  "I set her up with a clothing allowance."

  Her eyes go wide as she takes it in.

  "Free clothes! Girl, why didn't you go?" She elbows me.

  "You know why."

  "Girl, get over this guilt of having to be with your kids twenty-four seven. It's not a sin to go out and have someone watch your kids," she says.

  "Stop it," I say, getting irritated. I don't want to get into this with her, and especially not in front of Owen.

  "Look, I'll watch them right now, why don't you go?" She says.

  "No, they have homework and just got home from school, we still have dinner too."

  "All of which I can
take care of."

  "Let me take you clothes shopping," Owen offers, his tone softer.

  "And maybe dinner," Mia hints.

  Owen grins, "And dinner." He looks me in the eye and gets all serious and, well, cute. "Please."

  I huff, knowing I'm cornered and out of excuses. "Fine, let me go change. You wait here I'll be right back." I throw a pointed look at Owen.

  I wait until he's back in the car before going to get the girls and their school stuff out of the car and heading upstairs.

  The girls are of course excited to spend time with Mia, especially when she says they are making homemade pizza tonight which is their favorite thing to do. They like to make silly designs out of the toppings.

  Though my girls are too smart for their own good.

  "Who’s the guy?" Allie asks.

  "Just a friend from work," I tell them. Not a complete lie.

  "But he doesn't work with you," Allie continues.

  Damn these kids are smart having visited me at work, with Mia or my mom the many times when I've picked up extra shifts.

  "Remember, Mommy took up a second job to make a little extra money." Mia helps out.

  "What kind of job?" they ask as I'm getting dressed in my room. I decide to go with something more casual and dress in jeans and a nice top and ankle boots.

  "Well, it depends, it changes each week. This weekend I'm helping him with a charity event, it's like a way to raise money for a good cause."

  "Like an assistant?" Allie asks.

  "Yes, just like that." They both nod accepting it, thank God.

  I head to my bathroom and touch up my makeup and check my hair that was up in a braid for work. It still looks good with just a few pieces that have escaped, so I grab my purse, give the girls a kiss and head out the door.

  When I get close to the car Owen gets out and opens the door. He helps me into the car before getting back in himself.

  "Impressive that in fifteen minutes you can go from working mom to beautiful date."

  Heat rises on my face at him calling me beautiful.

  "This isn't a date."

  "I'm taking you to dinner so, yes, this is a date."

  "No, it's not."