Wyatt Preston

As I drove through the sprawling country club estate, I couldn’t help but think that there was such a thing as too much money. Did grass really have to be that green? I mean, kids in Africa didn’t even have water and these fancy pants were worried about a dry blade of grass? People and their priorities. I shrugged my shoulder to hide the obvious chip I had growing there and parked my sedan at the front of the valet booth. A young teenage kid walked up, clearly unenthused with my generic vehicle – he was probably used to sports cars and convertibles. Sorry, kid, I thought as I threw him the keys.

I jogged up the marble steps and couldn’t help but smile when I saw the event board: “Victoria ‘Tori’ Elliott Birthday: in the Main Hall.” God, even her name made go all doe-eyed. I had worked for the Buchanan Industries in the Finance division for a few years, starting fresh out of college. I got hired on thanks to my best friend, Jeffrey Buchanan, and I met Tori my second day on the job. She was one of the head honchos’ personal admin assistants, but I swore her actual job was making my heart skip three or four beats whenever she walked into a room. She didn’t even know I existed, or ignored me because she thought I’m too young and too damn stupid. She wouldn’t be entirely wrong.

I was only 24 but I knew my eyes look older; most of the women at the office mentioned something about my baby face and old soul not mixing. It turned out that, if you grew up in the foster care system, you didn’t come out as shiny as the kids who had healthy parents and an actual home. But nobody wants to attend that pity party, I thought to myself as I breached the double-wide, massive mahogany doors that opened into the Main Hall. Of course, Carter, one of the older Buchanan brothers and Tori’s boss, had gone all out for his cherished personal assistant. So had his fiancé, Emma.

Tulips were everywhere and I internally high fived myself for remembering my allergy pill that morning. There was some sort of sheer, fluffy fabric on the backs of the chairs, some shiny silk on the tables, and there were glittering lights everywhere. Even the dense bulk of male I was could see that this setup was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the woman who stood, surrounded by her coworkers, just to the side of the hors d’oeuvres table. God, she’s radiant.

Her auburn hair was flowing down her back, a rare and cherished sight as far my dick was concerned. She wore some sheer, violet blouse and slacks with these sky-high fucks me pumps that just made me want to cry. Deep brown eyes closed in laughter as some schmuck from Data Processing made a joke. Tori’s teeth were bright white, perfect, and there was a flush to her cheeks that I assumed was from her champagne glass. Whatever it was, it looked good on her. I took a deep breath and tried to act cool, smoothing my blonde fade cut like there was ever a chance that a hair was out of place.

I moved to straighten my collar and remembered that I hadn’t worn a tie. I was grateful that Jeff had mentioned this would be a semi-casual event, which meant I still wore my cobalt blue pressed suit set with my white linen button up. While I had no idea what cobalt blue is, I did know that women stared at my dark, ocean blue eyes a hell of a lot more when I had the suit on. I hoped Tori wasn’t impervious to its charms. Oh, who are you kidding, Wyatt?

Like the total dweeb that I was, I walked closer to the hors d’oeuvres table, chickened out, and began saying hello to my coworkers instead of the Birthday Girl. I made small talk and tried to moonwalk inconspicuously closer to her little cluster of females, hoping that I would turn around at just the right moment and make eye contact with her. I got distracted for a moment by Carter and Emma who swung through my group to say hi to everyone. Emma looked great – almost as luminous as Tori, and Carter had his hand possessively on her waist.

As I daydreamed for a split second about being that way with Tori, Carter and Emma broke off their conversation and stared at me. With a shake of my head, I came back from my little trip down Never-Ever Lane and returned to the conversation. Act cool, Wyatt!

“Are you OK, Wyatt?” Emma asked, putting a light arm on my shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just need to eat I think,” I mumbled as I moved towards the food. The last thing I needed was people thinking I was going to pass out. Carter chuckled and winked at me knowingly, glancing over his shoulder at Tori.

“The Birthday Girl is probably waiting for you to say hello, Wyatt. Get your ass over there,” he grunted at me, and I felt myself go a little red. Shit, your boss knows you’ve got a crush and you’re too chicken shit to do anything about it! I collected myself a little, nodded at Carter, and walked my way over to Tori. I made sure to place my trajectory to go around her in case we made eye contact and I lost my nerve, though.

But just as I was approaching from a safe distance, I heard the women in her little circle start to ooh and ahh over a coworkers’ cell phone. She was showing them all photos of her newborn baby and I couldn’t help but smile. What could I say? I loved kids. I decided to let the ladies do some more fawning over the pictures before I made my suave entrance, so I curved around the group and made my way to the snacks.

I had my back to the group and was waiting for my cue to turn around when I heard Tori take a deep breath. She let it out roughly and declared, “I’ve decided to visit a sperm bank. That’s my gift to myself for my 30th birthday. I’m going to have a baby – no man necessary.” The women took a few beats to collect themselves before they all closed in on her with congratulations and feigned praise.

“That’s so brave of you!”

“You’re going to make a great mother!”

“Wow, that’s a huge step. Good for you!”

All of these women were just as shocked as I was, but for obviously different reasons. They probably thought that raising a child was freakishly hard - even with a partner - but I couldn’t help but wonder why in the hell she wanted a sperm donor. A real man would have given her children and helped her care for them. I felt the caveman in me beat his chest a little at the thought of some random dude getting to spread his seed on territory I had claimed. And one of the things I wanted most in this world was to have a family – a real family. One that didn’t leave you alone. And now Tori wanted to have that by herself.

I realized I was distraught, more than I had a right to be. I thought I had a few more months – or maybe even years – to woo Tori, to make her to see that I was six years younger but I wasn’t like other guys. Fuck! This was all my fault; I thought I had time. She said multiple times in the office that she had sworn off guys, but I didn’t think she wanted a baby without one. I gathered myself enough to storm to the men’s room, hoping for all the world that I didn’t look like my ass was on fire as I did.

Once I got into the (ridiculously over-marbled, overly-carved) restroom, I made sure nobody was sitting in the stalls before I laid into myself. “You dumbass, Wyatt! You shoulda moved on this sooner. You shoulda told her how you felt, screw the age thing. Now she’s gonna go get jiggy with a turkey baster and you’re gonna be stuck holding your dick in your hands!”

I let out a big groan of disgust, messing up my hair as I paced back and forth. I let out another long, painful sigh and turned towards the sink. As I smoothed down my hair, I looked directly at myself and felt the deep bullshit I had brewing start to bubble just below the surface.

When I met Jeff in college, it was pure luck. I had barely made it into college by the skin of my teeth, but at that point I was out of the system and on my own. I worked my ass off for that degree and managed to meet Jeff in my last year at university. Despite my efforts to stay on the right track, though, being the illegitimate son of a deadbeat dad and a crack addict had its downsides. I was totally lost, even though I’d worked so hard to put the pieces of my life together and it looked like, from the outside at least, that I had done it.

But the first day I saw Victoria Elliott, my second day on the job at Buchanan Industries, I thought, “That’s her. That’s the girl that’s going to make me get my shit together. I’ll do it for her.” And even though she didn’t seem to know I existed, I worked every day a little bit harder to make myself better for her. So that one day, she’d look up from that damn copy machine and see a man, not a boy. A man who was worthy of her.

And now she was going to get knocked up by some cold-pressed sperm with her legs in stirrups at a clinic. Instead of in the arms of someone who loved her, who wanted to share a life with her. Who wanted to be a father.

I stole one last glance at myself and said, “It’s go-time, Preston. Get your shit together. It’s time to take your hand off your dick and keep her off the turkey baster.” I turned to exit the marbled bathroom and almost ran into an elderly man who, apparently, came out of nowhere. I blew out all the air in my chest and turned bright red – there was no way he didn’t hear all that. Shiiiiit.

He looked at me with cataract-covered eyes and eyebrows that look like caterpillars and said, “We all have to give ourselves a pep talk from time to time. Go get her, kid.”

You’re such a fucking loser, Preston, I thought as I sidestepped the man and thanked him. I shook off my run-in with Father Time and headed to the Main Hall to get my future baby mama. I’d find a way to convince her that a sperm clinic wasn’t the only option. I have to find a way, I thought as I sped up the pace. I’m running out of time.