Page 5 of The Daddy’s Girl

He chuckles at me. “Working hard?”

“Umm…yeah. Just a little side project actually.” I prop my hip against the table, crossing my arms over my petite breasts, letting my crop top lift in an attempt to draw his eyes to the exposed skin of my midriff. God, I’m desperate.

His eyes don’t stray from mine for even a second.

“Don’t work too hard,” he jokes. As he leans against the door, I drink in the sight of him like I’ve been parched for days. With mostly dark hair—lightly dusted with gray around his temples, I swear it must be a crime to get this much better looking with age. Has anyone considered reporting him? Surely it’s witchcraft and frankly a major threat to all other men on the planet who might one day even hope to compete. They should be concerned.

“Yeah well…” I say, clearing my throat to try and make a joke back at him. “Not all our dreams include leather and whips.”

He laughs again, those dimples in his cheeks so prominent they could start wars. “Pity.”

I know from the naked eye, it would appear as if Matis is flirting with me. Unfortunately, I’ve learned with time that this is just how he is. It’s how he speaks to everyone—with alluring sarcasm and dripping sex appeal.

Again…he’s so charming it’s quite dangerous.

“Are you here for a meeting?” I ask, trying not to sound too desperate. Every day, I dream the same thing: that Matis has decided to come out of retirement and will attend all our board meetings. And since we’re out of office space upstairs, he’ll just have to share this one with me since it’s the biggest.

I can share.

“You six don’t need me anymore,” he replies with a wink. “I think you have it all under control.”

“That’s not true,” I reply as I blow some stray bangs from my eyes. “I mean, don’t tell anyone I said this, but Jack and Julian are falling apart. This place is in shambles without you.”

Clutching a colored pencil between my fingers, I roll it back and forth, rubbing each individual ridge as I grin up at him sheepishly. Matis laughs and shoves his perfectly aged hands into his pockets with so much swagger, I nearly faint on the spot.

“You’re just saying that,” he quips back.

To that I can only shrug. Then he takes a slow step into the room, sucking every ounce of air from the space as he does. I gaze up into his eyes, wondering if today is finally the day he starts to see me as a real woman and not the little girl I once was.

“It’s true,” I whisper, my eyes locked on his.

Standing just a foot away from me, the rich aromatic scent of his cologne—bergamot and sandalwood—drifts to my nose, and I inhale it as if I could store it and keep it forever.

His sultry expression suddenly melts into a playful smile as he reaches out and taps me gently on the tip of my nose. I flinch as I stare at him with confusion.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite,” he says as if I’m an ice cream flavor or a well-behaved pet.

I swallow down my disappointment. I mean…at least I’m his favorite.

But then the guillotine strikes. With an air of casual confidence, he leans against the table and adds, “No, I’m not here for a meeting. I’m renting the playroom with that beautiful woman from last week. The one with the colorful tattoos.”

My heart plummets to the floor like a water balloon, bursting when it meets the hardwood. And it’s a struggle to hold a fake, enthusiastic smile when your heart is soaking the rug. But I do it anyway.

“A little early, don’t you think?” I stammer awkwardly.

“It’s never too early for sex,” he laughs. If he notices my devastation beneath the bubbly facade, he doesn’t let on. Instead, he shrugs. “Besides, I was thinking…maybe I’ll take her out for drinks first. Get to know her.”

When I swallow, bile rises in my throat.

“How romantic.”

“Or…maybe not.” He winks again, and I think for a moment the building might actually be careening to the cobblestones. In fact, I wish it would.

To some, it might be strange that my godfather talks so openly about his sex life with me. Trust me, I wish he didn’t sometimes. But Matis has never had a modest view of sex or any semblance of inhibition. I could count on two hands the times he’s tried to openly discuss my own parents’ sex lives in front of me and Julian. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole just as much then as I do now.

“Well…” I say casually, not knowing how on earth to end this torment. “Have fun.”

It’s not a genuine sentiment. I don’t actually want him to have fun. I’d actually prefer he take one look at that woman and decide that he’s not attracted to her and in fact only has eyes for me. Then I’d like him to rush up the stairs to my office and take me right here on top of this messy table.