Page 24 of Single Daddy To Go

“Who’s Bernard?” I ask.

“My assistant,” he says nonchalantly. OMG. I’ve never met anyone with a personal assistant before. Well, I have but they’re more like an administrative assistant. They might get you a cup of coffee at work, but they wouldn’t whip together a giant breakfast and bring it to you in bed.

Everything about this experience is so surreal, but it’s just Mr. Lockhart’s day to day reality. I try to keep my surprise from showing as he saunters off to the shower. Wow, this guy has an amazing back view too. His ass is toned and bronzed, and not at all like someone who spends ten to twelve hours a day sitting at his desk. I hear the water running and leap out of the huge, soft bed and find my discarded clothes. I locate my dress and heels and my bra, but I can’t find my panties anywhere. Oh shit. I put the rest of my clothes on. I give up looking when Rob returns from the shower, smelling fresh, his face newly shaved. He’s wearing only a towel around his waist and my insides go mushy again. Water droplets run down that thick, muscled chest and I long to trace each one with my tongue before pressing a kiss to his perfectly sculpted mouth.

But Rob doesn’t seem to take much notice of me as he gets dressed. Of course, all I’m doing is watching him. His closet is vast and expertly organized. I can smell the musky odor of his cologne above the spicy notes of his body wash. He selects a pair of boxer briefs, and then a charcoal grey suit from his massive collection.

When he’s done getting dressed he looks over at me, as if he’s just realized I’m there. The billionaire smiles, making me feel hot all over. I want to pull him back down to the bed, but he’s stronger than me. “Come with me,” he growls.

I follow him, like a house pet, into what I guess is a breakfast nook, some room with wide open windows and a stone counter top with black leather topped stools. Ithinkthis is what passes for a casual space in a billionaire’s penthouse.

“So sweetheart, ready for breakfast?” he asks with one black eyebrow arched. I sit up straight and smile.

“I’m always ready for breakfast,” is my smart reply. Rob grins.

“Good, I like a girl who eats,” he growls approvingly.

At that moment, a man appears dressed in slacks and a sport coat. He has dark hair and eyes and olive skin, and is carrying two silver trays, which he sets down on the counter.

“Morning ma’am,” our server says. “I’m Bernard.”

I nod, trying to act like I belong here.

“Hello,” is my shy reply.

Bernard lifts the silver domed lids to reveal thinly sliced ham and thick waffles, drizzled with syrup and sprinkled with powder sugar, with strawberries on top before disappearing into the room from which he came.

“Dig in,” invites Rob with a smile, and I do.

The first bite is heaven, the waffles the exact right amount of sweetness, not too much and absolutely perfect. The flavor of the strawberries complements the crispy batter. The ham is out of this world, like everything else about this meal. I savor the slightly salty taste, and can hardly prevent myself from smacking my lips with appreciation.

“This is so good,” I murmur almost orgasmically.

“Mmm-hmm,” he concurs, his mouth full of waffles.

When we’re done eating, Rob gives me another kiss and instructs Bernard to drive me home. I’m grateful that I don’t have to make the full walk of shame on the subway and back to my apartment. Instead, I only have to walk into the car and back to my place. Dating a wealthy man sure does have its perks.

When I get back to my place, Haley is eating breakfast. Her spread is a lot more modest than the one I shared with Rob this morning. She’s got a piece of toast with jam and a bowl of cheerios.

My friend takes one look at me in my dress from last night and gapes, tossing her long red mane.

“Oh my god, Ally. Your date must have gonereallywell.”

I feel my cheeks coloring as I remember the details of last night.

“Yeah, it did,” I smile.

“Want some Cheerios?” she offers. “Tell meallabout it.”

But instead, I shake my head.

“No, I already ate. He has an assistant. When we got up in the morning, he called the guy and had him deliver food. He lives in this enormous penthouse uptown and it’s like a hotel. I mean, the size of it is incredible. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She laughs.

“Enough about his apartment. What’shelike? How big is he?”

I don’t even pretend to misunderstand. I can’t believe she’s acting like this.