Baby for Sugar Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance (Heartstring Dating Agency Book 6) Read online

  “Daddy,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around him. With one quick hug, she straightened her suit jacket and cleared her throat, then shook her father’s hand instead. She wanted to be taken seriously. She was a businesswoman—not just Mark Whitaker’s daughter.

  Then her striking eyes turned to me again. “Jordan Ashford,” she said. “I haven’t seen you since…gosh, I must have been fifteen.”

  “Must have been,” I nodded, trying to hide my obvious attraction the best I could. Mark was giving me a dirty look out of the corner of his eyes, which was more than enough inspiration to get myself under control.

  “Shall we?” she motioned to the elevators. “I already let them know we were here. Jack and Lucas are waiting for us in their meeting room on the top floor.”

  “Waiting for us,” Mark mouthed to me, lifting his brows. Things were already going according to his plan.

  Cat leaned in and whispered, “I might have told them we’d be ready to meet twenty minutes ago, so they’d have no choice to wait.”

  “I taught you well,” Mark smirked. “Better for them to be waiting on us, then for us to be waiting on them.”

  “You two are aware that some people consider it unprofessional to be late?” I teased.

  “Not when your last name is Whitaker,” Cat noted snidely, taking her stance in front of us inside the elevator.

  I couldn’t help but take stock of her ass as she pressed the button for the top floor. I didn’t remember her having such luscious curves before, but maybe that was for the best. She would have been certified jail bait then, and I didn’t need that kind of temptation. Hell, I didn’t need the temptation even now that she was of age.

  The elevator filled with an air emanating from her. There was the musky crisp scent of her perfume, but also just the confidence she exuded. It was disarming, and she hardly seemed like a twenty-five year old fresh out of college. Where did someone her age get that kind of confidence anyway? Was that another perk of her father’s last name?

  “Here we are,” she chirped with the ding of the elevator.

  The doors slid open to reveal a nervous, frazzled assistant glaring at her watch, but she lit up with a polite smile the moment she saw us.

  “Mr. Whitaker,” she sang out. “And Ms. Whitaker. Mr. Ashford. Glad you could make it. Right this way. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, champagne?”

  “We’ll save the champagne for after we determine if there’s anything to celebrate,” Mark huffed.

  “Of course,” she replied.

  “I’ll have a seltzer water please,” Cat requested.

  “Sure, why not. Same for me,” Mark said before turning to me.

  “Just regular water,” I rasped. The longer I watched Cat’s tight, perfect ass swishing through the halls of Heartstring headquarters like she owned the place, the dryer my throat became.

  The assistant set off to fetch our drinks after leading us into the boardroom where Lucas Meadows and Jack Landson were waiting. We went through the rounds of shaking hands, though none of us really needed to introduce ourselves. Jack knew Cat personally, which was part of what brought us all here. He and Lucas both knew me and Mark through past business dealings and updates they heard through the grapevine.

  “We’re glad you agreed to meet,” Jack said as we took our seats. “I had a feeling Cat would work her charms to convince you.”

  “She’s good at that,” Mark smiled over at her.

  Cat offered a smile but shifted uncomfortably. I was quickly realizing through the smallest, most subtle moments that she was determined to make her own name. This was not about riding her dad’s success. If she could have secured a meeting without her dad or me along, I’m sure she would have.

  The only thing trickier than Cat outrunning her father’s shadow was going to be focusing on anything but her through the whole damn meeting.

  2

  Cat

  I kept my eyes trained to Lucas and Jack as they made their pitch, just as my father and I planned. We didn’t want to be the ones pitching to them. They wanted us to buy their company because they knew we could handle it, and they knew we could bring it a new level of success that would pay off handsomely in their kept shares of the company.

  The thrill of the prospect was already rushing through me, but there was another kind of electricity in the room…one that had nothing to do with the deal on the table or the many promising proposals Meadows and Landson had to offer.

  Jordan was just as good looking as ever. No, better in fact. I thought I was prepared after my extensive Googling and tracking down every business magazine cover he had appeared on in recent years. But seeing him in person again…he blew me away.

  Now that we were both grown up, the age difference was less cringe-worthy. 25 and 35 was far less taboo than 15 and 25. And now all of that attraction translated into a whole new level of sexual tension. One that made it hard to breathe or think of anything else, even with a major deal like this at hand.

  “So, as you can see…the numbers keep growing all across the board,” Jack explained. “And they’re only projected to keep growing. Lucas and I were right when we picked this new trajectory for his career. Love and romance never go out of style, and the demand never stops.”

  “You can see the spike here, when Jack joined our team full-time,” Lucas pointed to the sharp inclining point on the chart on the screen. One that made my heart pound harder than the smell of Jordan’s cologne wafting from the seat next to mine. That hike meant users and memberships, which meant money and success. Money and success that could be mine if I could get my dad and his partner on board.

  “It just goes to show you how much untapped potential there is, and how it all explodes in the right hands,” he continued. “We’ve taken it as far as we care to at this point, but we’re eager to see someone else take it to a new level. A group of talented individuals such as yourselves, we hope.”

  “I’ve done my research,” Jordan commented. “If you two were trying to abandon a sinking ship, you obviously know something the rest of the world doesn’t.”

  “Nothing to hide here,” Jack smiled, spreading out his hands. “All of our cards are on the table.”

  “I can vouch for that,” I nodded.

  I caught a warning glare from my father who always said not to invest your trust in too many places, spreading it thin and making you vulnerable. He had seen too many of his associates brought down catastrophically from trusting the wrong guy with his books, his ideas, his career, his life.

  But if Jack was going to sell off a sinking ship, he would have done it with someone he didn’t know. They wouldn’t bring close friends in on a bad deal. I knew that much was true, and nothing would make me doubt it. Heartstring was the real deal, and in ten years or less—I could be just like them. Incredibly rich, infamous, and confidently passing it off into someone else’s hands so I could move on to my next big adventure.

  “We’ll have some things to discuss, obviously,” my father concluded, keeping his cool—never looking too impressed, even though what was in front of us was beyond impressive. “We’ll have to think it over.”

  Another expert move. Always demand what you want. Never ask for it. When I got my first job offer from a local bank so I could build up my number and accounting skills, Dad never let me hear the end of it when I asked, “How much time can I have to think about it?”

  Never ask, always demand. Say it as an expectation rather than treating it like an apologetic favor. Don’t leave the terms up to them or the ball in their court.

  “Of course,” Lucas submitted, but it was obviously not the response he was hoping to end the meeting with.

  But Jack just smiled and scratched his chin because he knew how we operated.

  Dad stood and began shaking their hands with me and Jordan following suit. Another thing he didn’t mess around with was fraternizing with potential clients. While some people might have thought it wise to extend an invitation to lu
nch to build good, he always insisted you didn’t share food or drinks with anyone until after decisions were finalized with a signature on the dotted line.

  They showed us out, and without business to focus on, all I was left with was the suffocation air of Jordan’s closeness. Every darting glance, every polite smile…it made my hands sweat. Of course that wasn’t the only thing on my body that was wet, but it was the most obvious—making me cringe with every handshake goodbye.

  We were silent on the elevator…just in case there were cameras with audio. A nice place like Heartstring could afford something like that, and Daddy told me lots of execs installed that kind of thing to catch unsuspecting traitors in their midsts. The business world was more cut throat than anyone on the outside would ever fully realize.

  Jordan’s car was waiting for us out front and we all filed in. Thankfully, Dad sat between us because I didn’t think I could handle sitting side by side with Jordan in such close quarters. Not with my father watching over us.

  “I made us lunch reservations at Castise to discuss the deal,” Dad announced, flicking down the sleeve of his suit to check his watch. “Which by the looks of it, we’ll be early for.”

  “I need a drink,” Jordan said, loosening his tie. “We can wait at the bar.”

  I sucked in a deep breath with as much subtlety as I could, trying not to let on how difficult all of this was for me. Not only was I making my big break into the business world I had always admired over my father’s shoulder, I was about to sit down to lunch with my teenage crush who would be otherwise fair game to me now…if it wasn’t for the fact that he was Dad’s partner, of course. And at that lunch, as I pulled my chair up to their table, I would be their equal, their partner. Dreams were coming true left and right.

  I was teeming with excitement as the car pulled up in front of Castise. I wanted to take the deal, and I knew every reason why we should beyond my own personal motivations. I was also prepared to present them in perfect bold confidence. Jordan’s presence may have been enough to throw me, but when I was fighting to have my way, everything else vanished. I had tunnel vision all the way through to getting the answer I wanted. Nothing else existed at those times—not even someone as delicious as Jordan Ashford.

  I could see it all playing out like a movie in my mind. I’d impress them both with my points and by the end of lunch, I’d be on track to be one of the newest executive owners of Heartstring—a billion dollar company.

  But the rug was ripped out from under all of us when my father’s phone rang, and after stepping away to take it, he returned to inform us he couldn’t stay.

  “Sorry, something urgent came up. I have to run,” he told us on the sidewalk, just outside the entrance of the restaurant where the doormen awkwardly froze in their spots as they continued holding the doors open for us, probably wishing we’d make up our minds and go in or out.

  “You two go on without me,” he suggested, practically with one foot already back in the car to rush off.

  “No, we can reschedule,” Jordan argued. “We’re not going to discuss this deal without you.”

  “I told you I’m too busy for this thing, and now you see I meant it. If we’re going to do this, you two have to get used to discussing things and making decisions without me.” He reached out and placed a firm hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “I trust you.” Then he turned to me with a loving, proud gaze. “And I expect you to take it easy on this guy. Don’t hardball him too much.”

  I tried to smile, but it seeped across my face in a cringing grin. Hard and balls were the last words I wanted to hear come from his mouth with Jordan around, especially when he was abandoning the two of us alone together.

  Neither of us seemed too thrilled to be left alone to this conversation over lunch. Now I needed a drink with the same desperation I heard in Jordan’s voice when he first brought up the bar.

  “To the bar it is then,” he said quickly, reading my mind, as we watched my dad’s car drive off.

  “Well, like he said…I guess we do have to get used to this kind of thing. And we should get comfortable with each other.” I knew it was true, and I meant it in the most innocently professional way possible. I just hoped he didn’t notice the red flush of my cheeks that implied I wanted us to be comfortable with each other in more ways than one.

  “That we do,” he nodded. “I guess even though I’ve been around your dad and your home since you were a kid, we’ve never really known each other on a personal or professional level.”

  He placed his hand on my back to lead me inside, and I swore it felt like a branding iron—even through my blouse and thick jacket.

  We walked inside and slid onto two stools at the bar. I ordered a vodka cocktail, he ordered bourbon. Then there was nothing to do but make small talk. Obviously the real business at hand wouldn’t begin until food was served. This was all just an ice breaker, but there was nothing cold about the energy crackling between us.

  “So, I’ve heard all about your time in college and everything you’re hoping to accomplish with your career,” Jordan started. “But what about the rest of it? What have you been doing with yourself?”

  “Well…I am my father’s daughter. I’m a true workaholic and don’t have much time for hobbies or ordinary fun and social events. The only socializing I do is at business meetings and networking over cocktails.”

  He flashed his perfect white teeth with a chuckle. “Your father’s daughter indeed. That makes three of us. So I take it you don’t have much time for dating. Are you sure we’re qualified to take on a dating app company?”

  “Oh, actually…,” I stammered. I had to tell him. I couldn’t believe my dad hadn’t already. There was no reason to keep it a secret. In fact, telling him would only build up the much needed wall that needed to remain between us.

  “I’m engaged,” I blurted. “His name is Drew and he’s a financial analyst. My father set us up.”

  For some reason I felt the need to hold out my hand so he could see the ring, as if I needed some kind of proof. I didn’t know why I couldn’t control my awkwardness. I only knew my body did not react well to admitting to Jordan, the guy I had lusted after since I first learned what lust even felt like, that I was seeing someone. Much less set to be marrying someone.

  Oh well, I thought. Better he knew it right off the bat. It was just another reason to add to the long list of reasons my fantasies about him would never be more than just that. My biggest dream would be coming true if this deal went through. It seemed only fair that I sacrifice another dream in the process, even if it was my desire to see Jordan naked and sweaty on top of me.

  As if it even mattered. Jordan obviously had a girlfriend…or five or six. How could someone who looked like him not?

  3

  Jordan

  “What about you?” Cat asked as she leaned over her cocktail, sucking the straw in between her plump, glossy lips.

  It took me a moment to snap to and realize what she was asking. Why did her admitting to having a fiance feel like someone punched me in the chest?

  “Me? Oh…” I shook off the blow. “Nothing serious.”

  “Then you know the dating game well,” she decided. “Perfect. Between the two of us…I’m confident we can conquer a dating app.”

  A contagious smile spread across his mouth, then my own. I found myself getting sucked into her gaze for a moment. She had this self-assured, wild look in her eyes that made me believe even more than I did before that we could take on this new venture without a hitch.

  “Mr. Ashford?” A busty waitress appeared behind us with two menus in hand. “Your table is ready. Follow me.”

  I hated to be sucked out of Cat’s gaze, but the moment we sat down—it picked up all over again without missing a beat. We ordered another round of drinks and talked over the menu.

  “The steak is good here,” she told me. “But I also recommend the veal.”

  “Damn, woman,” I chuckled. “I know we’ve already said it�
�but you are your father’s daughter for sure. You eat like a middle-aged businessman. I expected you to order a salad, like most women do…no offense.”

  She raised a brow. “I inherited my mother’s good genes and metabolism. Besides…I work out like a twenty-year old gym rat.”

  “I bet you do,” I teased, finding it hard not to fantasize about her glowing tan skin beading with sweat, stretching over her fit muscles. My eyes drifted to the hint of cleavage poking out over her tight blouse and I could vividly picture drops of perspiration dripping down between her breasts…inviting me to follow them. Of course, going to the gym wasn’t the only thing that could make her sweat like that.

  Thankfully, Cat had already turned her attention back to the menu—so she couldn’t catch me staring at all the places I shouldn’t have been looking at.

  I was having a hard time keeping my libido in check around this grown version of Cat with all of her charms. I couldn’t help but want her, despite the suicidal nature of that desire. There were a million reasons not to. First, there was her dad, who was my business partner going on over ten years. He’d kill me if he saw the way I was looking at her, or if he knew the kinds of things I was thinking about her.

  Then there was this jerk fiance of hers named Drew. Financial Analyst, psh. Everyone knew they were bad in bed. No wonder he put a ring on her. She was probably way out of his league and he knew he had to call dibs before she had a chance to realize that.

  “So, I see no reason not to dive in head first with Heartstring,” she announced after we ordered our food. “Given their history, reputation, and numbers…It’s a low risk investment of our time and money. Our only challenge is to surpass the success Lucas and Jack built up, and then sell it off for at least double of what we’re buying it for…five or ten years down the road.”

  “Five?” I questioned. “That’s ambitious.”

  “But not impossible,” she grinned.