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I dropped my gaze to my feet and nodded.
Hooking a finger under my chin he brought my attention back up to his face. “Yes, Daddy,” he coaxed gently.
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied diligently.
“Good girl.” Smiling, he pulled me into his chest and sighed. I felt his tense muscles loosen as he held me and my heart soared. He really was worried about me. I’d spent the entire night mad and frustrated, and he spent it worried. If I wouldn’t have been acting like a total spoiled brat, I would have seen his messages and probably would have felt a whole hell of a lot better about the night apart. It really was unfair. I made a mental note not to put either one of us through that again.
He broke the hug and for the first time stopped to look around my apartment. It was small, a hell of a lot smaller than his, but I loved it. It was decorated exactly how I liked with eclectic art and tchotchkes scattered around that brought me joy and peace. Most of them were thrifted, but I still had little pieces of memorabilia from all different times in my life. But somehow with him standing there looking around, I could see every flaw and I felt very inferior.
“Your apartment surprises me.” He finally spoke.
“How so?” I was more taken aback than insulted and I genuinely wanted to know.
“You just strike me as the minimalist, contemporary type of person and this is very… homey.”
I could totally see where he was coming from because I was very careful about the picture of myself that I presented to the world, but this was my home, my safe haven. I could be whatever I wanted or needed to be in this space.
“I like it,” he finished with a smile.
“Thank you. Umm… how was your meeting last night?”
“It ran long, but pretty normal stuff. It’s a good time for us all to touch base and discuss things.”
I nodded, hating his cryptic answers. Who was ‘all of us’ and what did they need to ‘discuss’ late into the night every Friday?
None of your business, I reminded myself. I didn’t know who this jealous and possessive woman was who lived inside of me, but I kinda hated her and wished she would just go away and let me live my life. I wanted to be with Archer. I wanted him as my Daddy and if I wanted those things then there were other things I was just going to have to learn to deal with. There really was much else to say about it.
“Why don’t you take a shower and get out of yesterday’s clothes, and I’ll order us some lunch.” Archer sat on the couch, and Archie jumped up next to him.
“Hey, buddy. Miss me?” he asked my cat. The little traitor purred at him. Actually purred. The only time he purred at me was after I fed him. All Archer had to do was exist. What was it about the man that was so… magnetic?
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I nodded.
“I’m assuming you didn’t do any of the things around here that you mentioned wanting to do?”
My mind drew a blank having no recollection of what I had wanted to accomplish while I was here. My face must have given my secret away. Archer shook his head.
“You mentioned wanting to clean out your refrigerator and do laundry, which I told you I could take care of but you refused.”
“Oh, yeah. I… uh… was going to do that stuff today. I didn’t expect to sleep so late and we weren’t supposed to see each other until later,” I reminded him.
“I’m aware I flipped the script, but you still have time to do whatever you need. I’m in no hurry.”
“I’ll just be a few.” I pointed down the hall to indicate I was going to shower.
“Take your time.”
I scurried away, but once I hit the hallway, I turned to look back at him. He was watching me and a slow smile spread across his face when I turned around. Without another word, I retreated for real, forcing the images of Archer Brennan lounging on my couch petting my cat out of my head.
Archer
As soon as I heard the water turn on, I got up from the couch, grabbed Audrey’s bag off the floor and went in search of the washer and dryer. Finding a small stacked unit behind a door in her kitchen, I put each piece of clothing in, making sure to read the tags and set the correct settings on the machine. After adding the soap, I started the load and then went to the refrigerator. Opening it, I revealed an array of foods and I felt a pang of guilt hit me at the idea that it all might have gone bad. Starting with the yogurts, I looked at expiration dates and threw away anything that was past its point of being edible. I hated wasting food. It stemmed from my childhood. My mom never let anything go to waste, and she drilled it into us how we should never take advantage of the fact that we could have full bellies. I may have come up in the world, but my family had been lower middle class before I hit the lottery.
The once-fresh produce followed the yogurt cups into the garbage bin and so did the lunch meat. After I was satisfied that anything that could be spoiled was in the trash, I took out the rest of the items and wiped down the shelves. Sure, I could hire someone to come in and clean for her; she’d never lift a finger again if I had it my way, but I wanted to show her a different side of me. I wasn’t only willing to throw money at her and lavish her with gifts. I was also able and willing to give her my time and my effort. I wanted to show her what it was really like to have a Daddy.
I was just finishing up cleaning the rest of her kitchen when she came in.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” Her eyes were wide as she took in the collection of cleaning supplies I’d found. “Why are you cleaning for me? I told you I was going to do it.”
