Anything For Daddy Read online

  “Yeah. Honestly.”

  “He let me study.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “What?”

  “He let me study. For my night classes. When I didn’t have something to do for him, I was allowed to sit in the library and study. It was maybe an hour or two per day, plus my lunch time, but it helped a lot.”

  “He seriously let you study? He knew about this?”

  “He caught me doing it one afternoon and was angry at first. But when I explained, he said I can keep it up, but only if there’s nothing else to do.”

  “Huh.” I sit back, genuinely surprised. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “I know. I was surprised too. I think he liked the fact that I was going to school at night. I think he liked hard work.”

  “That sounds like him.”

  She shrugs and smiles at me. “Maybe he wasn’t always a bastard?”

  “He was,” I answer softly. “But you can’t be a bastard every second of every hour, unfortunately. Even the worst of the worst are nice sometimes. That just makes them even more awful.”

  She goes quiet and we sip our drinks together in the short silence.

  “Anyway, it’s your turn,” I say.

  “Okay. Biggest pet peeve?”

  “Not using an Oxford comma. You?”

  “Answering a question with a question. Hold old were you when you lost your virginity?”

  “Seventeen. You?”

  “I, ah—”

  I stare at her. “You haven’t.”

  “I mean—”

  “You’re a virgin.”

  “You can’t just keep throwing my own questions back at me,” she says, frustrated.

  But I don’t care. I laugh, leaning toward her. “Holy shit. You’re a virgin for real.”

  “Leave me alone,” she grumbles. “I’ve been too busy to, you know.”

  “Fuck?”

  “Get a boyfriend.” She glares at me.

  “Oh, Lucy. Let’s go back to my room right now. I swear I’ll give you a better first time than most women could ever dream of.”

  “No, thanks.” She purses her lips. “I think it’s your turn, or can I have my book back now?”

  “Do you plan on waiting until marriage?”

  “No,” she says curtly. “This is really none of your business.”

  “Probably, but I’m half hard right now thinking about your tight, virginal little pussy wrapped around my throbbing—”

  “Okay!” she says, eyes wide. “Stop now!”

  I crack up. I can’t help it. I thought she might be a virginal little prude, but I didn’t realize she’d be a literal virgin.

  “Okay, okay,” I say, getting ahold of myself. She does not look happy. “Just one more question then for each of us.”

  “Fine. My turn.” She mulls it over for a second while I sip my whiskey. “What are you going to do with this company?”

  I cock my head. “What do you mean?”

  “You said something to Ken that’s been bugging me. You said you’re going to be powerful, and I realized… that’s true. Why do you deserve that sort of power?”

  I lean back for a second. “I’m not sure how to answer that without sounding self-aggrandizing.”

  “Try.”

  “Okay then. First, I’m not my father.”

  She nods. “Good start.”

  “I don’t believe in profit over everything. I believe enough is enough. I don’t believe in ruthlessly accumulating more and more cash until there’s nothing left of this world. I don’t believe in exploiting people for every single dime they’re worth. I don’t believe human life is disposable.”

  She arches an eyebrow. “So what do you believe in, then?”

  I look away, out at the crowd of people. “I believe that there has to be a better way. I don’t know what it is yet, but this company can be better than it is now. That’s what I’ve learned from my years of struggling with my father. There has to be a better way.”

  We’re quiet for a little while. That sinks down between us and I think back to all the hours I’ve spent working for my father, all the people I’ve fired on his behalf… and I feel angry.

  So much wasted potential, all for the sake of a few dollars.

  “Your turn,” she says softly.

  I look back at her and grin.

  “Right. Last question.”

  “Better make it good.”

  I nod once, steeling myself.

  “Will you take shots with me?”

  She smiles in surprise. “Seriously?”

  “Dead serious.”

  She purses her lips, trying not smile, considering. Finally, she nods once. “Okay, big guy. Serve them up.”

  The rest of the night is a blur of drinking and laughing, just like that first night. She doesn’t get her book back until we’re in the hotel parting ways, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

  That’s all I wanted anyway. Just to see her smile, make her laugh, get her talking to me again.

  But at the end of the night, back at the doors, there’s another moment. Nothing intense, nothing overly special, but a moment. Her hand lingers on mine, her arms brushes against me. She looks up and smiles when our eyes meet.

  And I know, without a doubt, that I’m going to take her virginity.

  Sooner, rather than later.

  I’m rock hard the rest of the night just thinking about it.

  7

  Lucy

  God, please, if you’re listening, never, ever, ever, ever let me take shots with Cade Morris ever again.

  I roll out of bed like a corpse. My mouth is dry and sticky. Something smells like a dumpster and I’m pretty sure that something is me.

  I groan when I hit the floor. I stay there for a few seconds. It feels nice and cool on the floor of my room.

  The alarm just keeps blaring away. Finally, I manage to get up without puking. I turn it off, get to my feet, and stumble into the bathroom.

  Where I promptly lose it.

  This is not my finest hour.

  About ten minutes of that and I’m in the shower. I’m groaning, swaying like a zombie, but I’m determined. There’s so much at stake and I’m not about to be the one that lets this all go to hell, even if I feel like I’m already there.

  Out of the shower, teeth brushed, minimal makeup. Then clothes on, minimal hairstyle, grab coffee, and out the door.

  Cade is standing next to the elevator, looking at his watch.

  “You’re late,” he says with a big smile.

  “What?” I frown and look at my phone.

  Sure enough, it’s three minutes past six.

  “You’re late,” he says again, almost gleefully. “Although I gotta admit, I thought you’d be later.”

  “How… are you functioning?” I pull dark sunglasses from my bag and slip them on my face. “How are you standing?”

  From my hazy memory, I recall him taking a shot and laughing with me, his arm around my shoulders. “To never waking up alone, fiancée!” he shouted before firing back another one.

  “Seriously?” I press. “How are you alive?”

  He just shrugs. “I can hold my drink better than you.”

  I glare at him. He doesn’t see it through my sunglasses, but I’m in too much pain to care.

  “Come on,” he says, putting an arm around my shoulder. “I’ll help you through today.”

  “Asshole,” I grumble but I let him lead me onto the elevator and down into the lobby. I should bristle at the arm draped so casually across my shoulders but I can’t help myself.

  “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Morris!” the front desk girl calls out.

  I groan and Cade just waves back, chipper as can be.

  We head outside, across the street, and into the studio.

  “Are you sure we have to do this?” I ask him.

  “We can go back,” he says. “It’s your call, you’re the minder here.”

  I glare at him. Bastard.

 
“Fine, go inside,” I say. “Come on.”

  He laughs and leads me in. Patricia waves happily as we pass and I manage a smile for her.

  “I want to die,” I whisper to him.

  “I know,” he says loudly.

  I wince. “Stop. That.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m serious, Cade. I’ve been nice so far, but I will kick you so hard in the—”

  “Good morning,” Ken says as we head through the bullpen.

  I glance over and frown. He’s sitting at a random desk shoved up against a cube farm, just hanging out in empty space. It looks odd and it takes me a second to realize that’s because we stole his office.

  “Morning,” Cade says, smiling huge.

  We hustle on past the stage and into the little office where I collapse on the small, stinking couch and groan.

  Cade sits down behind the desk and laughs at me. “Seriously, we’re not drinking like that again,” he says. “I feel too guilty.”

  “You feel guilty?” I sit up and stare at him angrily. “I’d kill to feel guilty. Right now, I feel like death and maybe that’s even being a little generous.”

  I collapse back down onto the couch with another groan.

  Cade laughs again and shakes his head at me. “You’re truly pathetic, Lucy. You went to college, didn’t you? You’re still young, too.”

  “I didn’t drink like this in college,” I grumble. “I was too busy working and studying.”

  “Of course not,” he says. “I knew you were no fun.”

  “What, did you just party your way through Harvard while your daddy bribed everyone to pass you?”

  “It was Yale,” he corrects, “and no, I barely passed. He would’ve loved to watch me fail out.”

  I sigh and rub my temples. “Good for you then.”

  “Look, you’ll be okay. Just gut it out for a few more hours. By this afternoon, you’ll start to feel more human.”

  “I’d better. Seriously, Cade. I might throw up again.”

  He hesitates. “You puked?”

  “Yep. Happy?”

  “Not really.” He sighs. “You’re in a sorry state.”

  “Now you’re getting it.”

  He opens his briefcase and takes out a small roll of something that looks like Mentos. He pops one out, pulls a bottle of water out, and grabs a plastic cup from one of the desk drawers. He fills it with water and drops the round white pill inside.

  It starts to fizz instantly.

  “What is that?” I ask, making a face.

  “This, my dear, is a certain special Mexican hangover cure.”

  I frown, lip protruding. “I don’t believe you.”

  “You wanted to know how I’m not feeling awful, and darling, this is how. I got a crate of them when I visited down south a couple years back. Here in the States, this shit is behind the counter and prescription only, but down there…” He just shrugs a little and carries the cup over to me. “Drink.”

  I stare down into the cup. It’s fizzing still. There’s no smell I can detect although I’m not sure I’m capable of smelling much of anything right now.

  “Are you kidding me?” I ask him. “This is some… Mexican hangover cure?”

  “It’s not a hangover cure,” he says. “It’s high-grade medicinal painkiller.”

  My eyes widen. “You’re high?”

  “No, I’m functioning.” He shakes the water at me. “Drink it.”

  “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, starting to feel furious. “Absolutely no way.”

  He shrugs. “Fine. Suit yourself.” He walks back over and puts the cup down. “It’s here if you change your mind.”

  I glare at the floor and try not to puke while he turns on his laptop and starts typing away.

  Of course he’s taking drugs to keep his hangover away. What a privileged rich boy thing to do. He can’t just suck it up and gut it out like the rest of us, he has to have some magical expensive illegal cure that’ll zap the pain from his skull in seconds.

  I glance at the cup. And it’s right there, waiting for me…

  But no, no, no. Screw him.

  I’m not stooping to that level.

  So I sit on the couch and I suffer. Just being awake and alive is suffering right now, unfortunately, but I do it. For ten whole minutes, I survive.

  Until someone bangs on the door, sending new shockwaves of pain through my already exploding brain.

  “Cade!”

  He glances over at me with a frown before getting up. He opens the door and Ken storms in.

  “Can I help you?” Cade asks him.

  “Our weather girl went home,” he growls.

  Cade blinks. “Excuse me?”

  “Our weather girl, Tina Lee.”

  “She’s good,” I grumble.

  Ken shoots me a look then goes back to yelling at Cade. “Her kid’s sick, apparently, and we have one last segment to do. And since you fucking fired our backup girl, we have nobody right now.”

  Cade sighs. “You’re just here to shove that in my face, right?”

  “Pretty much since I assume you have no solution to my fucking problem.”

  I want to kick him out since his yelling is making me want to die but I can’t move, let alone fight back.

  “Calm down,” Cade says, which has never in the history of the world successfully calmed someone down.

  Ken glares at him. “Fuck off,” he says.

  Cade sighs. “Do you really want to do this? We already established that you have no spine. Don’t push me again.”

  The other man glares at him but doesn’t say a word for a long beat. I think they might come to blows for a second, maybe start swinging wildly. I almost want to see it, just on the off chance that Cade might get hit in the eye.

  Instead, Cade smiles.

  “I have an idea,” he says.

  “Let’s hear it then,” Ken growls at him.

  Slowly Cade looks at me. His smile widens. Ken follows his gaze and grunts softly. The two men stare at me, Ken thoughtfully, Cade with a malicious little grin.

  “Oh, fuck no,” I say.

  “Can she read a cue card?” Ken asks Cade.

  “Definitely,” Cade says.

  “She’s pretty, I’ll give her that. She’ll need a dress though.”

  “You got some in wardrobe?”

  “Probably.” Ken sighs. “Think she can hit her marks, read from cue cards, and not fall over face first like a moron?”

  “I’m confident,” Cade says.

  “I’m right here,” I snap at them. “And there’s no way I’m getting in front of a camera right now. I think I might puke.”

  Ken sighs. “Get her in makeup in five. I’ll hunt down a dress.”

  “Will do.”

  He turns and leaves without another word.

  “Cade,” I say, glaring at him.

  “Lucy,” he answers softly, kneeling down in front of me. “Lucy, my darling.”

  “Cade. No.”

  “You’ll be great.”

  “No.”

  “It’s so easy. Stand there, read a card, smile. No problem.”

  “Cade.”

  “Please?”

  “No.”

  “You’ll look so fucking hot in that weather girl dress,” he croons. “Imagine me bending you over, spanking your tight ass, making you moan. Come on, Lucy. I know you have it in you.”

  I groan. I want to throw up. “I can’t,” I whisper.

  “You can. Save the show.”

  I stare into his eyes and for a second, I think he really wants this. I think he wants it, not just to humiliate me, but because he wants to help the show out.

  And I realize I want to help too. I know I’ve only been here a little while, and Ken’s a total dick, but everyone else is nice. If I can help… if they need me…

  I stand up. He moves back, smiling.

  I walk over to the desk, pick up the cup with the stupid Mexican drugs in it, and I drink the
whole damn thing.

  It tastes like chalk.

  I gag but I keep it down.

  “That’s my girl,” he says softly, proudly.

  “Come on,” I shoot back. “I’d better get in makeup. And if you ever do this to me again, I’ll kill you.”

  “Duly noted.”

  We walk out together, a huge grin on his face. I’d be mad at him, but I’m really just trying not to fall over and die, so I have no excess energy at all.

  This is going to be a disaster.

  I think I’m melting.

  That’s all I can think about as I stand in position. I think I’m made out of wax and I’m melting right down onto this stage.

  I’m wearing this tight dark blue dress. It’s a weather-girl dress, you know the type, super-contoured and simple. I swear, there’s some kind of company that just cranks these weather-girl approved dresses out because they all look exactly the same.

  And I’m shoved into this one. It’s a size too small, which Ken wasn’t happy with, but delighted Cade to no end. I’m melting and I’m wearing a dress that doesn’t fit and I think I might puke.

  But I’m standing. And I don’t feel too bad. Whatever crazy Mexican drugs Cade gave me are probably working at least.

  Ken walked me through it while they did my makeup. I just stand here, gesture twice, and read the cue card. It’s a short segment, just a quick weather update, nothing special. I start when Ken points at me and the light on the camera turns bright red.

  I’m so nervous I think I might pass out. It’s not the hangover anymore, although, well, yeah, it’s also the hangover. But I’m also just straight up nervous. I’ve never been on TV and I have no training for this. I don’t know what I’m doing really. The cue cards are big enough and easy enough to read, but the lights are so bright that they’re making me sweat.

  This is a horrible idea.

  I blink rapidly and scan the faces behind the camera. Ken looks miserable and Cade is grinning. He gives me a thumbs-up and I manage a smile back at him.

  The news anchors are saying something that I can barely hear.

  “And now, to our special stand-in weather girl, Lucy, ah, Sinclair! Lucy?”

  It happens so fast. One second, I’m just standing there, and the next that little red light comes on and Ken is frantically pointing at me.

  I plaster a smile on my face. I’m going to get through this. I’m not going to die.