Daddy Knows Best (6 page)

I couldn’t bring myself to back down, couldn’t admit that I hadn’t known either. I was too fucking angry.

“A rubber you said,
always.
”

“This was different, I didn’t think!” she sighed. “I’m on the pill, Andrew. It didn’t seem such a big deal.” She yanked the door aside, forced her way in. “I said I’m sorry, ok? I won’t do it again.”

“No, you won’t,” I snapped.

“Am I forgiven?”

I ached to say no and tan her hide with the belt, just because I could. “Wash him off you.”

She grabbed the body wash, lathered right the way between her thighs. I smiled as she grimaced. “Stings like a sonofabitch.”

“Was it everything you hoped for?”

She threw me a smile, a genuine glint in her eye. “More than I hoped for.”

“Count yourself lucky, sweetheart,” I growled. “I’m not so sure I’ll want to share next time.”

“Andrew Priestley,” she laughed. “Are you jealous?”

I reached for her body, mashing her tight against my chest. “You’re mine,” I said. “All of you. I don’t want another man’s mark on you.
In
you. Only mine.”

She pouted. “No fun, spoilsport. You know I love you best.”

I lifted her up, pinning her against the tiles. “Say that again.”

Her smile was pure wickedness. “I love you best,
Daddy.
”

“Prove it,” I groaned.

She proved it all fucking night long.

***

“Is this love?” she asked. “For you, I mean.”

Georgia was a very different creature from the girl I met six months earlier. She looked up from her laptop, eyes sincere without the slightest hint of brat. I was at peace, finally. No guilt remaining. The time I’d spent with her had been some of the best I’d ever had. She laughed, and teased, much more like the twenty year old college girl she should have been. Sometimes the greatest transformations happen in the greatest darkness.

“Do you want it to be?” I smiled. “I’m twice your age. A greying, old bore with a penchant for filthy rotten sex.”

“You’re not a bore,” she said. “And I like the grey. It’s distinguished.”

“You don’t know me, Georgia, don’t know the things I’ve done.”

She grinned. “Show me
your
journal then. Let me into your darkest secrets, Andrew Priestley.”

I was out of time, and I knew it. Twenty four hours before Cynthia was home. Time to come clean.

“My confessions are much simpler. I don’t love your mother,” I said. “I never did.”

She pushed the laptop aside, attention all mine. “Why marry her then?”

“Necessity,” I admitted.

“Necessity?”

“I’m a loser, Georgia. A wash-out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was on my final warning with work when I took that trip, my last ditch attempt to save my job and become part of the team again.”

“Did you steal some office stationary or something?” she smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Hardly. I over extended myself financially before the market collapsed. Buying property to let like it was going out of fashion. I stood to lose everything, my houses, my car, my holiday home and all the trappings of status that go along with them. I was a desperate man trying to save my fortune.”

She didn’t even blink, just stared over at me with curious eyes. “How?”

“Gambling,” I said. “I was trying to catch a lucky break. Aren’t we always? Instead I ended up with massive debt and an addiction I couldn’t control.”

“Ladyluck69,” she said. “Your laptop password.”

“It was my poker pseudonym. Didn’t turn out to be quite so lucky.”

“So you had a bad streak? So what?” she shrugged. “No big deal, right?”

“I’ve got nothing left, Georgia, just a poxy downgrade job with the management breathing down my neck.”

“Does my mother know about all this?”

I laughed. “Of course she knows. I had nothing when I met her, just a suitcase of clothes and a soon to be repossessed apartment.”

“I don’t get it,” she said. “So, she loved you but you didn’t love her?”

“How likely does that scenario sound?”

She frowned, weighing it up. “I don’t understand. Why get married then?”

“I got a new start. She got a husband.”

“I wanted her to get a husband my whole life, Andrew. I wanted it more than anything, but it didn’t matter shit to her. I figured maybe one day I’d have a proper family, and maybe then she’d love me. I never even
saw
her with a man until you, but still I wished for it. Stupid, hey?”

“Not stupid,” I said. “Normal. Everyone needs love, Georgia.”

“Yeah, they do,” she snapped. “I’ve always had money, Andrew. It doesn’t mean anything to me. Someone who’ll hold me through my nightmares and ask how my day went. Who’ll expect me to behave like a civil human being and put me in my place when I don’t. Who’ll look at me like I’m the hottest, sexiest piece of ass he’s ever seen, and ravage me like a monster,
that’s
what means shit to me. If you think you’re little
I’m broke
confession is enough to put me off then you’re a fool, Andrew. A stupid fool.”

“You can do better,” I smiled. “A lot better. Look at you, sweetheart, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”

“I didn’t
have
a life before you,” she snapped. “Nothing that meant anything. I was a drop out too, remember? On the edge of college expulsion without a single clue what I’d do with the rest of my life.”

I took her hand across the table, squeezing her fingers tight in mine. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

“Deadly,” she said. “Another stupid word and I’ll put you over my knee,
Daddy.
”

She had me, finally, coaxing a smile despite my better senses. “This may well be love for me, Georgia Tate,” I said. “It’s yours if you want it.”

“I want it.” She squeezed my fingers right back, brushing angel curls from her eyes. “Now, tell me about my mother...”

Oh shit.

***

Cynthia was furious, but not for reasons expected. She didn’t give a shit about me boning her daughter, or about confessing my financial insufficiency. As usual Cynthia Tate cared only for herself, and her guarded little reputation.

“Let’s get this straight, Andrew,” she snapped. “I leave you alone for three weeks. Three poxy weeks to keep up appearances, and in that time you manage to fuck my daughter, spill the guts of your unfortunate predicament and tell her our marriage is a sham. That’s good going.”

“You could see it that way,” I said. “Alternatively you could examine the facts. Georgia is back in college. She smiles these days, and she does her assignments without question. She doesn’t drink, doesn’t screw randoms whenever you’re not looking, and has embraced an all-round happier demeanour.”

“Well, bravo,” she snipped. “Wonderful. Let’s have a celebration shall we? Champagne and cake, anyone?” She pulled a face, like she wanted to crush me under her boot. “All she’s ever wanted is a big, hunky dad on the scene. I got one for her, finally, and all she wants to do is jump him. Good job I didn’t love you, isn’t it? The little madam would have wormed her way in regardless.”

“She’s not stupid,” I said. “She knew you didn’t love me.”

“Lucky guess.”

“Not a lucky guess. She does know you, Cynthia, she’s lived with you for twenty years. Well, on paper anyway.” I sighed, running my hands through my hair. “Why don’t you just tell her about Helen? She’ll understand. This isn’t the middle-ages, they don’t burn lesbians at the stake.”

“Not on the surface, no, that would never do, but behind the scenes I’d be the talk of the town. I’d never hear the end of it at work. And Georgia’s a snarky little madam, anything she could get her hands on to use against me would be dangerous ammunition.”

“I don’t think so, not anymore. And about the work thing, who really cares?”

“I care,” she said. “It’s easier being married, Andrew. None of the old pervert clients hit on me anymore. One flash of my wedding ring and all extra commission propositions fall flat on their face. I’m more free than I’ve felt in years.”

“Not free enough to be with the woman you love, or be honest with the daughter you should.”

“I
do
love Georgia,” she snapped. “Of course I do.”

“So talk to her,” I said. “She might surprise you.”

“Thanks to you I have no choice now, do I?”

I weighed it up. “Probably not.”

“This doesn’t leave this house, understood? Not a bloody word of it, Andrew. If we’re lucky we can keep this contained, play happy families for anyone who’s watching.”

“And what if I really did want to get married one day, Cynthia?”

She laughed. “You’re a free agent, aren’t you? There was no
actual
wedding, Andrew, in case you’ve forgotten. Marry who you want, just don’t tell the world about it.”

“Sure thing, Mrs Priestley,” I smiled. “I’ll keep the peace, but I’ll be expecting Helen at dinner next Sunday. It’s time we all had a fresh start. Let’s work on the happy family shall we? For real this time.”

“We’ll see,” she said.

I guessed that would have to do.

***

“I like Helen,” Georgia said, draping herself across my lap. “She seems nice.”

“Your mother actually smiled today,” I laughed. “Did you see?”

“I put it down to trapped wind, but I think you maybe right. More of an upturned mouth than a grin though, I’d say.”

“It’s a start.”

“A good start,” she laughed. “So, Mr Priestley, now we’ve got the house to ourselves, what are we doing this weekend?”

“I haven’t decided,” I smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“How about I decide for once?” Her eyes were mischievous, sparkling with delight.

“Now now, Georgia, you know the rules. Who makes the decisions around here?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not this old chestnut again.” She poked her tongue out, and laughed as I caught it tight between my fingers.

She mocked me so perfectly, matching my words with her own.

“It’s true what they say, Georgia Catherine Tate...” I laughed. “Daddy knows best.”

--The End--

Acknowledgements

I’ll keep it short and sweet – like Daddy Knows Best.

Massive thanks to Jade West, who convinced me to put fingers to keypad in the first place, and held my hand all the way through.

I owe tremendous gratitude to Tracy Comerford Smith for her tireless work in promotion. She’s a real gem.

And, of course, thanks to Letitia Hasser, of RBA Designs. What a cover. I’m incredibly impressed.

About the author

You can find out all you need to know over at
www.facebook.com/vincentdrake
.

Come hang out, I don’t bite unless you want me to.

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