Page 138 of Sugar Daddies


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“That’s something,” he said. “At least she didn’t run screaming.” He smirked. “And where does she want this to happen? We could take her out, a nice bite to eat, somewhere tasteful. Impress her with culinary delights.”

“We already decided.” I looked at him. “The Cheltenham Chase. I mean, you are coming right? You are coming to see me and Samson?”

He squeezed my knee. “Of course we’re coming. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

And so it was settled.

Mum would meet my boyfriends at the Cheltenham Chase.

Right after Samson and I had kicked Verity’s nasty little ass to the kerb.

It was that same snooty receptionist at the Stroud office, the same one who’d judged me on interview day and found me severely lacking in mybite me, babyt-shirt. She didn’t give me any such look this morning, not in my posh little suit and my posh little heels.

“David Faverley,” I said, and my tone was confident, demanding.

She dialled him without hesitation. “Mr Faverley, your daughter for you.” A pause. “No, sir. Miss Smith…”

She gave me a smile as she disconnected.

“He’ll send someone right down.”

“I’ll find him.”

She didn’t even try to stop me.

I checked out my reflection in the elevator mirrors, so different than the girl who’d stared back at me last time around. Had I really changed so much? Inside as well as out?

I wasn’t sure anymore. Wasn’t sure of anything. I took a breath and willed my heart to calm itself the hell down as the doors pinged open, and I was back on the executive floor, back amongst director’s offices and board level meeting rooms and all that crap.

Another of the neck scarf brigade was heading down the hallway. “Miss Smith, I was just on my way. Your father is right down the hall, on the left. I’ll take you.”

“No need,” I said, and I was off.

I found his office right on the end.Mr David C. Faverley. CEO.

I knocked once before I opened the door, took one last deep breath before I pushed my way into his office like a bull entering a china shop.

He didn’t even have time to stand. No time to greet me.

“I know,” I said. “I know my mum lied. I know she told you I was… aborted. I know you didn’t know about me.”

His face turned pale, so pale.

Just like I imagined mine had.

Just like my mum’s had.

“Katie… good Lord, I…” He gestured for me to take a seat. Picked up his phone, dialled out with a cough. “Cancel everything for today… yes everything… I don’t care, he’ll have to wait… thank you.” He put the phone down.

I stared out of his window, and the sky was blue. Just a smattering of cloud. Just a nice normal summer’s day.

He coughed again. “Was this… your mother? Did she…”

I shook my head. “Carl.”

He nodded, just a little. “Carl, yes. Of course.”

“Why didn’tyoutell me?” I asked. “Youcould have told me.”

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