Page 17 of British Daddy to Go
He pauses. “If you say so. I’ve been with you for a while, and I know you’re not yourself. It’s not in my job description, but if you need someone to talk to…”
Most men would send their assistants to the curb for such a declaration, and I’m tempted to do just that. However, most of my friends are married with families, so I don’t have a line of people willing to listen to my girl troubles. I appreciate Greg’s interest in my life, even if he is probably only asking out of obligation. “There’s just this girl, Greg. I guess she’s taking up more of my head than I expected.”
My assistant grins. “I thought it might be something of the sort. Should I pencil this woman in?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. I’ll let you know after my meeting at Havisham’s.”
He hides his surprise well. “Okay. So, is that where you met?”
“Listen, we’re not going to do the whole gossip thing. We’re not ladies.”
Greg shrugs. “I wasn’t trying to be a girl. I thought you might want to talk about the reason I’ve read your schedule twice and yet you have no idea what you’re doing today.”
That makes me chuckle. The guy is right. “This doesn’t leave the room,” I tell him. “Take a seat.”
He sits excitedly. While Roger’s sexuality is an enigma, I’ve known about Greg’s preference for men since I hired him. His flamboyance is clear from his purple suit. When I first brought Greg on as my assistant, I tried to get him to dress in black, gray, or even white, but my attempts never worked. It’s impossible to cull the guy’s sense of style, but that doesn’t really make a difference to me. His attire doesn’t affect my business in any way. If anything, it makes work more interesting. I never know what I’m going to find when I get to the office.
“You can start by telling me her name. Her full name, if possible. I can run a background check on her.” Greg poises his pencil over the assignment book like he’s ready to take notes.
“That won’t be necessary,” I assure him. “Her name is Maggie, but I don’t know her last name.” It’s only after I say this aloud that I realize how bad that sounds. It’s normal for me to hook up with anonymous women, but I don’t usually think about them beyond a night. Shouldn’t I know her last name if I want to hook up with her again?
Greg’s eyes widen. “You don’t know her last name? How far have you gone with her? There’s no chance she could be pregnant, right?”
“No, not a chance. We didn’t go that far.”
“Good. The last thing we need is a paternity case.”
He’s right, of course. Not that I think Maggie would do that, but the possibility is always there. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to clean up a mess like that. I’ve never been the father, for the record, but the zeroes in my bank account make me an easy target.
“No need to worry about that.”
Greg nods. “Do you think this one might be for real?”
“I have no idea. I guess we’ll find out.”
He stands up, clearly done with our brief heart-to-heart. “I hope it works out. You seem to like her.”
“I do like her. I don’t know how or why, but that’s where I am with it.”
His laughter fills the large office space. “Hopefully, your meeting on Thursday helps you figure it out. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”
Greg dismisses himself, leaving me alone at my desk to wait for the conference call I have scheduled. Why do I need to talk to the partners? They’re supposed to be silent. I handle the day-to-day work at our trading firm, and they reap the rewards. They also fund most of the trades, but that’s beside the point.
I just have to get through that ridiculous meeting and talk with some traders, and then I can leave for the day. I’m not up for more than that. At least I have something to look forward to. I get to see Maggie in less than two days.
It is possible to survive until then. It won’t be easy, but it’ll have to do.
Knowing that I’ll be in Maggie’s presence again is almost enough to get my motivation levels up. That, along with a cup of coffee, and I should be in tip-top shape for the meetings on my agenda.
“Greg,” I call out. “Can you have an intern bring me an espresso? And make it a double.”
“Yes, sir,” he responds.
A Botox-filled college student scurries into my office with a mug of coffee. This girl would have been my exact type last week. In fact, in the past, I would have locked my door and bent her over the desk for a morning delight.
Now, though, I thank her and send her away. The only person I want to bend over is Maggie.
Thankfully, I’m going to get my chance again in a few days.
I only have to hold out until then.