ACCIDENTAL daddy (Sample)

A Billionaire’s Baby Romance

By R.R. Banks

An Amazon Top 20 Bestseller

*370 Customer Reviews – 4.5/5 Stars

She gave me her innocence. I gave her a baby.

As a billionaire, I’m used to getting what I want.

And that night I wanted her.

It was only supposed to be a one night stand.

No names, no numbers, only searing passion and lust.

I took her virginity.

Felt her sweet submission.

I knew she was meant to be mine.

To touch. To command.

But she left before I woke the next morning.

It’s been a year and I find out that she has something that belongs to me.

Lorelei, my daughter.

I will do everything in my power to find her.

Make her mine.

And complete our family.

Will I get my family or is one night all I’ll have forever? 

Chapter One

Beatrice

“I’m not wearing a thong and bra in public no matter how much fake fur you glue to it.”

“I’ve taken your laundry out of the dryer before. I hold it in good authority that you wear thongs in public all the time.”

I glared at my roommate as she reached for her hot glue gun again and continued adding patches of black faux fur to her own barely-existent panties.

“Under clothing, Nia. I wear thongs under clothing. Oddly enough, the same thing goes for my bras. I’m funny like that with underwear.”

“Oh, come on, Bea. It’s Halloween. Loosen up a little.”

I hated that she called me Bea. It made me feel like I should be wearing shoulder pads and eating cheesecake.

“I am loosened,” I argued. “I agreed to go to your party this year, didn’t I?”

“Only after I held it over your head for the last two years and started my unrelenting campaign of persuasion in June.”

She means nagging.

“The point is, I’m going. I will finally bear witness to the famous Nia Johnson Halloween Extravaganza. But I’m still not wearing a fur-covered thong and calling myself a koala.”

“A sexy koala.”

“Koalas aren’t sexy. They are furry little grey marsupials that eat eucalyptus.”

“So, toss a breath mint in their mouths and they’ll smell like your linen spray. It doesn’t matter. They’re adorable, and on Halloween anything that is adorable can be turned into something sexy. That’s just how it works.”

“Not with me. I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in years and the last time that I did I was wondering which costume would get me the most candy from my neighbors.”

“Well, now you get to decide what costume is going to get you the most treats from the sexy men that are coming to my party,” Nia said with a mischievous smile.

“Sexy?” I asked. “Does that mean that they are dressing up like koalas, too?”

She shot me a glare that rivaled my own.

“No,” she said. “These are some of the very powerful, very handsome, and very eligible men who frequent the hotel.”

In this instance I could only assume “eligible” was Nia’s codeword for wealthy. The hotel where she worked specifically catered to those with discerning tastes. That only worked to make me further question why any of them would want to come to the bawdy, decidedly unsophisticated Halloween bash my roommate was known for and where I knew she was hoping to rope one of them in. I wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as she was. The truth was that I rarely went out of the house, wore clothing that actually covered most of my skin, and used thongs only for the purpose for which they were designed – allowing me to wear close-fitting pants and skirts at work without falling victim to the ultimate shame of the visible panty line. All of this added to distinctly less excitement for the upcoming party that Nia was having, but I had already committed to attending this year. We had gone through ideas for several costumes, and so far, koala was the frontrunner.

“I am not putting my ass on display in front of men I don’t know, even if you make me mittens and furry ears to accompany it.”

Nia let out an exasperated sigh.

“Then what’s your idea? Because you have to have a costume. It’s absolutely required.”

Somehow, I didn’t see her enforcing that rule on the men she had invited, requiring them to don plastic super hero suits or construction worker outfits that would put the Village People to shame.

“I was thinking I could be a bee.”

Nia looked at me like I said that I was going to dress as Halloween itself.

“You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“No one named Bea is allowed to dress as a bee,” she said with all the authority of someone quoting a historic treaty.

“Well, that’s good, then, because my name’s not Bea.”

“Look, Mrs. Potter, you’re not wearing stripes and running around my apartment buzzing at people.”

I didn’t know if I should commend her for knowing that there was a Potter of relevance before Harry, or if I should correct her for apparently not knowing that person’s name. I went with correcting.

“Bea- trix ,” I said. “Her name is Beatrix.”

“That’s so much better,” Nia said. “Your name should be Beatrix.”

“You know what? I’ll just go right on back in time and let my parents know to make that little tweak. Be back in a bit.”

I started for the door, intending on hiding in my section of the house that I shared with Nia and one other woman until November.

“Fine,” Nia said. “You don’t have to be a koala. But you aren’t going as a bee, either. We’ll figure something out.” She glanced at her phone to check the time. “You want to run to the grocery store with me? I want to grab a few things for the party.”

“It’s midnight,” I said.

She shrugged.

“So?”

**

There’s something almost unsettling about the glowing interior of a 24-hour grocery store in the middle of the night that always makes me a bit hesitant before I go inside them after a certain hour. There wasn’t anything like this back home and even though I had been living what my grandfather would call a highfalutin life out where such wonders were commonplace for a few years now, I still wasn’t entirely accustomed to them. The doors sliding open always felt just a shade too much like I was being lured into something that looked like it was holding promises of fabulous things, but was really only holding mischief and mayhem…and calories.

“I love midnight grocery shopping,” Nia said as the sliding doors parted before her and light that should have been accompanied by angels singing burst out toward us.

Of course, you do.

I blinked against the sudden contrast between the vibrant light and the darkness that we had been walking through in the parking lot as I stepped inside the store. The floors were shimmering from a new layer of wax that had just been put down by those hopeful workers who I felt must go into their shifts each night hoping that no one will do something as nonsensical as shop for groceries in the middle of the night and ruin all of the hard work that creates approximately 10 minutes of pristine perfection in the store. I had the compulsion to take off my shoes and slide down the cereal aisle in my socks, and knew that the craftiness of the 24-hour store was getting to me. I had to wonder what had happened in our society that created a need that could only be filled with the ever-present availability of high fat snack foods, high fiber cereals, and a fully-stocked pharmacy section.

I watched as Nia gathered several bags of Halloween candy from the towering display at the front of the store and then headed directly for a nearby table filled with pumpkin spice cake rolls, cookies, and all other means of autumnal sweets. It was that time of year when the combination of gourd, cinnamon, and nutmeg rose up and tried to take over all of civilization. I was fairly certain if I looked long enough I would find pumpkin spice dental floss and edible underwear. Possibly not in the same store, but likely similar customer bases.

Nia grabbed an armful of the sweets and then headed for the doors again, coming back with a cart so she could manage more of a haul.

“You want me to eat all of that and also wear three threads short of nothing to your party?” I asked.

“Is this a party that anyone is invited to?”

A slick, hinting voice from behind me made my stomach roll slightly. Nia glanced over my shoulder then at me, her expression incredulous.

“Are you serious?” Nia whispered, but my eyes were closed as I shook my head, trying to convince myself that this wasn’t really happening. “Is this guy actually trying to pick you up?”

Taking a resolute breath, I turned to face the dark, perpetually slumbering eyes that made me feel instantly self-conscious and brought a sharp pain into the middle of my chest.

“Hello,” I said.
A familiar, tugging feeling in my gut made me blush and scold my biological makeup for its shameless reaction to the man that was staring at me. The pain should be enough to take away that feeling, but it wasn’t. It was there, just like it always was, and I hated myself for it.

“Hi, there.” Gregory’s eyes scanned my body. “Are you heading home or just going out?”

“Home.”

How could he do this to me? How could he fucking do this to me? Just go away.

“Want some company?”

Why now? Why not three years ago?

Nia gasped, then became deeply engrossed in an investigation of the seasonal desserts.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, looping an arm through Nia’s and pulling her closer, “I’m having a slumber party tonight. No boys allowed.”

Gregory laughed the laugh that used to melt me and approached me. Cupping a hand around my face he leaned down to kiss me. His lips felt like they seared mine, bringing tears to my eyes and the same sick feeling to my belly. I had to fight the reaction that rushed up within me, not wanting to make a scene in the middle of the store. He brought his mouth to my ear, close enough that I could feel his breath on me as he spoke.

“I’m jealous,” he whispered and walked away.

I restrained myself long enough for Gregory to get out of the aisle before flailing around like a cat climbing out of water, trying to shake away the feeling of his eyes, his hand, his lips.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Nia asked, sharply depositing another box of pumpkin pastry into the cart. She stared at me and then in the direction Gregory had sauntered for a second before adding a container of caramel and another bag of candy. “Did that man seriously just do that? I’ve spent three months planning a Halloween party in hopes of getting a little bit of trick or treat action, you don’t even want to go to it, and you still get a guy just ringing the hell out of your doorbell. Are you wearing some sort of neon ‘open’ sign that is only visible to men? And, if so, can I get the dealer’s number?”

With that Nia snatched a bag of licorice and started with a resolute stride toward a rack of fudge sauce she likely had plans for that I didn’t want to know about. I sincerely wished that there was some way that I could transfer any of the attention to her. That way I wouldn’t have to deal with him and maybe she would consider canceling the Halloween party before I had to go to it. Of course, that would mean that she would be afflicted by Gregory, and that’s not something I would wish on an enemy, much less a friend.

“That was not a new one,” I assured her, picking my shoe up off the floor where my convulsions had flung it, “That was Gregory.”

Nia stopped and peered over her shoulder at me. A sympathetic look had taken over the angry glare.

“Oh, that was Gregory.”

I looked at her painfully and stuffed my foot back in the shoe, nodding. We headed out the aisle, both of us moving a bit faster as if needing to get out of the environment tainted by his presence.

“So, you never told me the entire Gregory saga,” Nia said a few minutes later.

We had finished scavenging for provisions and were moving toward the check-out lines.

“Nor will I,” I responded, not looking at my roommate.

“Oh, come on. That is not fair. I have told you all the details of my sordid love life.”

I slid my eyes over to Nia, my eyebrows raised.

“Ok, I’ve told you all the details of my moderately interesting, semi-existent love life,” she rushed through the words as though she didn’t really want to admit to them. “But all the sordid ones of my imaginary love life,” she finished emphatically.

“Alright, I know, but Gregory…” I paused, flipping through a few glossy pages of my mental scrapbook. “I don’t really think it’s the same situation. You know the essentials. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Fine, but one of these days…”

Nia was cut off by me grabbing her and yanking her behind a display of books. The junk food she had taken out of the cart to put on the self-checkout station slid and Nia juggled it for a few seconds before regaining control.

“What happened?”

I gestured for her to be quiet and pointed toward the row of cash registers ahead of us. Nia assumed a convincing mission-impossible stance and gazed around the white metal shelves of paperbacks to where I had pointed. At the register, three down from where we hunched, Gregory had his arms wrapped around a giggling, well-augmented blonde, his face buried in her neck. The cashier was swiping a rather scandalous array of purchases while simultaneously trying to keep down her dinner.

This. THIS is why 24-hour grocery stores are a murky place.

“Ewwww,” Nia said in evaluation.

“Yeah. That chick probably has Mattel imprinted on the bottom of her foot.”

Nia nodded in agreement then glanced back around the corner. Suddenly she pushed back against me, shoving me towards the back of the square book area.

“He’s coming!”

I grabbed the nearest book and buried my nose in it. I peered over the top of the book and watched as Nia looked around for a few frantic seconds, noted the food in her arms, and turned her back. I rose up on my toes slightly to look over the white racks of books, trying to find where Gregory had gone. He was standing a few yards away in a pharmacy aisle.

“That is so ghetto, Bea, look, this says ‘Fo Tracey’, can you believe that? Oh, wait, never mind, there’s the ‘r’. It was under the price sticker.”

I could hear Nia whispering behind me but was too busy watching Gregory to focus on what she was saying. He took a box of Double Lubricated, Ultra-Sensitive, Assorted Flavor, Ribbed for Her Pleasure and Your Reputation, Mentholated, Spermicidal, Extra Strong ‘Cuz You Don’t Know Where She’s Been and She Doesn’t Either, Bonus Glow-in-the-Dark pack condoms, thought for a beat and took another then headed back toward the register. I quickly hid behind the book again, feeling like I was back in high school and hating myself a little bit more for it.

“Hope they come in small,” I muttered.

“What?” Nia asked, taking a step backwards to stand beside me.

“Nothing.”

I was embarrassed by how childish I was being, hiding from a man and wishing plagues and shrinkage upon his nether-parts, but that was how Gregory affected me. No matter how hard I tried not to be, no matter how hard I tried to just put him behind me once and for all, he seemed not to want to let me recover. Even when I felt like I was getting close to not caring, he would appear again, trying to lure me back into him just for his amusement. I waited for as long as I thought it would take for him to make his purchases, scoop up that night’s acquisition, and leave the traumatized cashier before relaxing. For the first time I looked at the book I had been using as a shield.

“What are you reading?” Nia whispered, still staring at the far wall.

I elbowed her.

“It’s ok, I think he’s gone.” Nia turned around. “It’s a book of a zillion and eight baby names,” I told her, scanning the list I had opened to. “Maybe a new name will inspire me.”

“Inspire you for what?” Nia asked.

“The new identity that I’m going to create for myself.”

Nia sighed as we made our way back toward the cart of goodies that we had abandoned running away from Gregory.

“What the hell did this guy do to you?” she asked.

“You know very well what he did to me,” I said, not wanting to elaborate on it.

“No. I know that he left you. Again, you’ve never told me the whole story.”

“And again, I’m not going to. It’s not something that I like to talk about.”

“Well, whatever it is, I can’t believe that it could be anything bad enough that it still does this to you years later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped. “You think that I’m just being dramatic?”

“No,” Nia said, shaking her head. “Just the opposite. You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever known and I can’t imagine anyone being able to do this to you. I know heartbreak. I get it. But it was years ago. You’re a grown ass woman now, with your own life, your own everything. Why let him still have this hold on you? He has you dangling. I just watched him come up to you in the middle of a grocery store and totally take over your mind. He had you wrapped around his little finger.”

“No, he didn’t,” I argued.

“Really? Then why didn’t you just walk away from him?”

Damn. Told.

“I just feel like I can’t get myself away from him. He completely messed me up.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Bea. You let him talk to you like that and actually kiss you, then he waltzes out of here with some tricked out bimbo and you did nothing.”

“What was I supposed to do?” I asked.

“Throw things at him. Hit him in the backs of the knees with the cart and then run over him. Jump over the cash register and tackle him. Shame him for his bedroom prowess. There’s a plethora of options. It’s really up to your personal style.”

“Well,” I said, not really sure why I was choosing to admit this but feeling like I couldn’t stop myself now. “I don’t really have the necessary information to shame him for his bedroom prowess.”

Nia stopped and stared at me.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“I don’t really have ---”

“No, no – I heard you. I just…. really?”

I sighed.

“Really.”

At 21, being a virgin wasn’t something that I frequently talked about. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I was ashamed of it, but I also wasn’t going to splash it across the front of a T-shirt and wear it on all of my outings. It wasn’t the best conversation starter.

“So, you’re letting a guy who you’ve never even had sex with still totally control your life?” Nia asked.

Well, damn. It sounds really bad when you put it like that.

“Um….”

That was about as much as I could figure out to say.

“Girl, you’ve got to get the hell over that. You have a life to live, and Skeezy McSlimeball shouldn’t be a part of it, even in your thoughts. You’ve got to prove to yourself – not to him – that you’re worth more than what he thinks you are. You need to start living.”

I felt her words filling my chest and pushing into my mind, reaching into a place that felt raw and uncomfortable, but that was something I didn’t want to deal with anymore. I nodded.

“Where do I find a costume?”

Chapter Two

Beatrice

Open-air malls were another evolution of modern society that bothered me. I thought that malls had been invented so that people didn’t have to wander around outside to get to different stores. Several dozen shopping locations under one roof was a comfort and convenience in the rain, cold, or heat but now somehow it had become a status symbol to shop in coiling trains of interconnected stores that looped around to create a shopping mall with no overhanging roof. But since it was still not trendy or fashionable to be wet, shivering, or sweaty, these malls asked a lot of shoppers. I didn’t care how snazzy the landscaping in the courtyards was or how tall a replica grandfather clock the mall developers could place in the center (this, I believed, was the teenage girls’ version of the biological clock. It constantly reminded them of the seconds ticking by until it was too late to get what they wanted). I wanted to spend my shopping hours in the mind-numbing monotony of a florescent-lit, faux marble cocoon. Nia, however, was drawn to the sprawling outdoor mall that had sprouted right outside the city and that was where we ended up in search of an appropriately inappropriate costume for the party.

“It makes me feel like an adult,” Nia insisted as she pulled into one of the thirty thousand parking spaces outside of the mall’s arched stone entrance and caught the sour expression on my face.

“You are an adult. You have been for many years now.”

“It makes me feel like a classy-ass adult then, ok?”

“The phrase ‘classy-ass’ just brings it home for me.”

The cobblestone walkways were swarmed with designer barely-clothed teenagers brandishing their daddies’ credit cards, bored wealthy women walking bored spoiled dogs, and the occasional hoodlum weaving through the horrified crowds with neon hair and skateboards thinking it would earn them punk-outcast points if the rent-a-cop chased them out. I walked closely alongside Nia, ready to shove her into any store not dripping with obscenely over-priced materialism and that looked as though the clothing inside would preserve at least most of my dignity.

“You’re simmering on the evils of brand-names and commercialism again, aren’t you?”

Nia had stopped in front of one of the few stores whose easily-identifiable logo wasn’t plastered on the chest, back, and underwear of every mainstream middle-class teenager in the country.

“Not evils, per se, just…non-goodness. I think it’s just one more thing to make kids self-conscious and that it damages individualism and open self-expression.”

I sound like an after-school special.

“You sure are deep and hippified for someone who wears mascara to the mailbox and whose nails could kill someone.”

I glanced down at the acrylic nails that had become a fixture of my personal look in the few years that I had been away from my childhood home.

“And you sure do hate me, for someone who proclaims they are my best friend.”

“I don’t hate you. What makes you different makes you beautiful.”

“I thought we agreed that you would destroy the bad nineties music collection.”

Nodding guiltily Nia led the way into the store.

After several minutes we both had armfuls of garments that Nia was doing her best to convince me she could transform into amazing costumes, and were searching for fitting rooms. A falsely cheerful-looking girl with a heavily overloaded lanyard around her neck approached us.

“Are you looking for a dressing room?” she asked, surveying the stacks of clothing each of us held.

No. We’re going for a brazen daylight robbery.

We nodded and followed the girl to a row of skillfully camouflaged doors along a back wall. Selecting two keys from the hundred on her lanyard she opened two of the doors and gestured Nia and me inside. The key plethora reminded me of an old-time prison warden and I had the distinct feeling that I was being punished for something that I did to offend the Great Celestial Greatness.

“What do you think the rest of those keys are for?” I muttered to Nia who slid her eyes toward the lanyard.

“My name’s Chloe if you need anything. Different colors or…sizes,” the girl said with a distinct slide of her eyes up and down our bodies.

Chloe turned on her heel and stalked away.

“Did she just call me fat?” I hissed.

“Try on the blue one first.”

**

A full hour was devoted to that store, locked in dressing rooms working through what felt like endless mountains of dresses, skirts, tops, and pieces of glittery, state-of-matter questionable cloth that could probably function as two or more articles depending on size and adherence to the laws of the area in which they were worn. Chloe continued to perfectly perform the pantomime of the sulking teenager until my dropped credit card and Nia’s non-too-subtly flashed threatening glare sent the salesgirl skittering through the racks of clothing with renewed verve. Unfortunately for her and her verve, soon after she decided our discovery of the ideal articles for our Halloween celebration was her personal mission, she returned to the dressing rooms to find that Nia and I had escaped and run from the store like we were making a break for the border.

“So, you voluntarily come out in the sunlight now?”

I turned sharply from where we had paused to catch our breaths around the corner from the store. Behind me a tall, middle-aged, self-described voluptuous man stood holding six shopping bags in one hand and an antiqued bronze lamp in the other.

“Mr. Adam?” I said, stunned to see him out in the wild rather than in the confines of our usual context.

“Oh, Honey, flashbacks, flashbacks,” he said, squeezing his eyes closed as though he couldn’t bear hearing the name again.

“Sorry. It’s so good to see you.”

I rushed forward and tried to hug him, got tangled in his bags and smacked with the lamp, and settled on a modified headbutt into his chest. I turned to Nia who was trying to maintain the same frustrated, astonished look she had when we had encountered Gregory in the grocery store, but was only managing to look confused and slightly afraid.

“Nia, this is my old manager from the restaurant, Adam Gillis.”

My year-long stint as a hostess at a tiny, locally-adored, strawberry-themed restaurant had brought me bitterness, an ulcer, and Mr. Adam. There were days when he was truly the only thing that had kept me from smearing strawberry juice across my cheeks as war paint and raising a rebellion against the rude and stunningly dumb guests that wandered in.

“Actually, not anymore.”

“You aren’t at the restaurant anymore?”

“Oh, no. I’ll be there until Hades does a tap dance with Jesus backed up by the Ice Capades. What I mean is I’m not Adam Gillis anymore. Andy and I finally changed our last names. It was our twelfth anniversary gift to each other. Now we’re the Gilliamses.”

“Gilliamses?”

“We were considering Williamillises but that was too difficult to pronounce.”

“Good choice. Have you eaten?”

Adam looked down at himself, twisting back and forth as if examining his girth.

“Far too much for far too long, but that’s not stopping me from doing it again. Lunch?”

We wove through the crowd with both Nia and me using Adam as a human battering ram to form a path on our way to a bistro at the front entrance to the mall. Inside the pseudo-fancy restaurant, a disturbingly thin girl with eyes I didn’t want to look at too hard for fear they would pop out flashed a smile with at least double the number of teeth she should have had.

“Hi!” she chirped, and I took an involuntary step back. “How many?”

“Three,” Adam told her.

The hostess’s smile widened as she looked to a diagram of the restaurant and a waitlist on her podium.

“I didn’t get a podium,” I muttered to Adam.

He waved me toward a bench near the door.

“It’s going to be a fifteen-minute wait,” the hostess announced as Nia and I walked toward the bench.

I recognized the tone as if-I-am-exuberantly-optimistic-about-making-you-wait-you-are-less-likely-to-get-mad-at-me. The other hostesses at the little restaurant where Adam and I had worked had learned to master that tone, but I had never bothered. If these people wanted to wander into the packed restaurant on a Friday night, get told that there were twelve reservations in front of them, and still choose to get put on the wait list, they could damn well wait without complaining.

Which is probably why it’s a good thing that I left the restaurant when I did.

After giving our name, Adam joined us on the bench. Ten minutes later Nia glanced impatiently at her cell phone. Five minutes later she started to stand up but I grabbed her and yanked her back down.

“Don’t do it.” Nia looked at me strangely and went to stand up again. “Don’t do it,” I repeated and pulled her down again.

“What?” Adam asked, looking up from his bags of goodies.

“She’s going to go ask the hostess where we are on the list.”

“No, I wasn’t. I was going to…” I tilted my head at Nia, “Ok, I was. But it’s been fifteen minutes!”

“She can’t make the people move. Don’t be one of the people I hated.”

Twenty minutes later the hostess had stopped giving us the encouraging looks she had been flashing us every thirty seconds in hopes of seeming like we were on the same team and lulling us into complacency. Five minutes after that she was hiding behind a column.

“Remember the princess?” Adam asked.

I laughed, shaking my head at the memory. The woman we were talking about had trained me when I started working at the restaurant. In fact, she had been one of the first people I had met after leaving home and having my heart drop-kicked by Gregory. If it hadn’t been for Mr. Adam I would have thought that all people outside of my hometown of Whiskey Hollow were like her and would have run home even faster than Gregory had traded me in for a woman who as at least three-quarters peroxide and silicone.

“The doctor?” I asked

Before we could explain anything to Nia, who was staring at the empty podium as if she was afraid that there had been a very localized rapture and she had been overlooked, the hostess appeared from behind the column clutching menus and grinning nervously.

“Angola, party of three?”

My eyes widened. Adam gathered up his purchases and stood without looking at us.

“Single-file everyone.”

Mouth hanging open, I watched Adam swish subtly after the hostess, holding the lamp to his chest as if to protect it from any lamp-snatchers that may have stopped for a quick bite to eat.

“I thought his last name was Gilliamilles-thingy,” Nia whispered from beside me.

Without looking at her I pressed three fingers to Nia’s lips and shook my head.

“Follow him quickly before he asks her where the showers are.”

My salad closely resembled grass clippings and my iced tea was so saturated in sugar I was relatively confidant I could float my spoon in it Dead Sea-style, but I was laughing so hard I barely noticed.

“How many times was she pregnant before she quit?” Adam asked.

He sliced into his salmon with a delicateness that belied his life’s goal to be rolled up in the world’s largest pancake (cooked in the world’s largest skillet located in Dollywood, also known as Adam’s Mecca) armed only with a bottle of syrup and with the mission of eating his way to safety.

“At least three.”

“How did she support so many children just as a hostess?” Nia asked, shocked.

“She didn’t have any children,” I told her.

“That’s terrible! Miscarriages?”

Her voice dropped when she said ‘miscarriages’ in that way that people whisper words that they don’t want to put out into the universe.

“Delusions. Girly was the compulsive liar to end all compulsive liars.”

“Oh.” Nia sat back, comforted that the other hostess wasn’t some blighted, dysfunctional mother and was just crazy. A moment later her face contorted as though she had just processed something that we had said. “Why was she a princess?”

“Well, apparently she came from royalty on top of being direct from Zimbabwe. I’m guessing there was some end-of-the-spectrum Black Irish thing going on. Her family was on a horribly misdirected cargo ship and became a small, highly specialized clan that produced a sickly pale, Southern twanging white girl.”

“And she was a doctor.”

The confusion was settling in now, reflecting how all of us at the restaurant had felt about this girl before we had caught on to her craziness and just found her exhausting.

“Apparently. When she quit she announced she was leaving to be a doctor for the Red Cross in Africa. She was very excited because they had provided her a waterfront house…in Johannesburg.”

I choked on the gulp of iced tea I was taking. Laughter overflowed as I remembered the map of Africa Adam had printed out and posted on the wall of the wait station, a bright red star indicating the land-locked Johannesburg. Dr. Princess left quickly thereafter. Only following a drama-soaked breakup with her boyfriend/imaginary baby daddy. We never heard from her again.

Because I still felt underlying anger towards the groups that would linger endlessly in the restaurant, especially at the specific tables I needed for that huge reservation that walked through the door twenty minutes early with three extra people, a baby that needed a highchair but wasn’t counted as a person, a wheelchair, two cellos, balloons, a cake, and a seeing-eye dog, I ushered Adam and Nia out of the bistro within ten minutes of finishing our million-calorie dessert.

I might have a little touch of restaurant worker PTSD.

As we walked down the gradually clearing sidewalk Adam took a very shiny high-tech communication gizmo from his pocket.

“Let me get your phone number. We should do this again.”

He pressed a few buttons and the little machine made a noise and glowed happily.

“That’s cute,” I said.

“Isn’t it? It’s new. This thing does everything. It holds your phone book, keeps your schedule, sings to you, wakes you up…calls your mama a whore.”

I recited my number while Adam fought to program it into the device.

“I’m pretty sure that’s how I do that. Damn, I’m old. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Andy is making dinner and I think I have at least four things in these bags that he’s going to need.”

Adam leaned in to hug me but one of the frolicking punks broke in between us and rolled into the distance. Holding his packages and lamp in the air Adam gave a flailing kick toward the boy’s back then a decidedly shimmying advance.

“That would have been a lot more effective had you not wiggled like that,” I told him.

“Float like a butterfly, bitch, float like a butterfly.”

Adam turned with a flip of his head and walked away.

“Love you,” I called after him.

“Love you,” he responded over his shoulder before disappearing behind the huge, booming clock.

Nia lifted her cell phone to check her lipstick in the reflective cover and started when she noticed the time.

“We need to get our asses in gear. I have to leave in an hour.”

“Why?” I asked. “The party isn’t until tomorrow.”

“I have to go to a family reunion tonight.”

“You didn’t mention that to me.”

“That’s because I’m not terribly excited about it. It’s nice to see the family and all, but it always ends up with at least three arguments and usually a curse or two.”

“That sounds delightful. Why would your family keep getting together if that’s how it turns out?”

“Because way down deep we’re still pretty tight. And everything always works out by the time that the reunion is over. I am a little bit excited for this year, though, because my cousin is coming.”

“Don’t your cousins always come? Isn’t that the point of a family reunion?”

I, for one, didn’t have enough family to actually warrant a reunion, but I had been witness to some in my day and they tended to seem like whole family trees had exploded onto the lawn in front of the host house for the event.

“Most of us do, but my cousin Roman hasn’t been in a while. He’s quite a bit older than me, but we were always close when I was growing up. Then he and the family had a falling out.”

“Over what?”

“He decided that he didn’t want to follow in the footsteps of all of our parents and their parents before them and their parents before them and be a part of the family business.”

“What did he do instead?”

“I’m not entirely sure of everything, but I know he’s a pretty powerful business mogul. He owns three chains of hotels and a couple of specialty resorts. A few years back he made some mutterings about starting a custom yacht tour business, but I don’t know if that ever actually came to fruition or if he moved on to something else.”

“It sounds like he does pretty well for himself.”

Nia scoffed.

“I should say so. He was a billionaire before he hit 35.”

“ Billionaire ?”

“Yeah. With a ‘B’. Like that thing you wanted to be for Halloween and got banned from.”

“If your cousin is a billionaire, why do you have roommates and work in a hotel?”

“Because he’s my cousin, not my daddy or my husband. Besides, who says he hasn’t helped me out some?”

“The hotel,” I said, catching on.

Nia nodded.

“Besides, I like having roommates. I’m not a live all by myself type of person.”

“But if he’s so successful, why is the family still mad at him?”

“It doesn’t really matter how much money he’s made. He rejected the family tradition. But it’s not really the whole family that wanted him gone. His father pushed him away years ago, but we’ve kept up over the years. Now he’s coming to the reunion and I’m really looking forward to seeing him. But with the reunion tonight and all of the preparations that I have to do for the party tomorrow, we have exactly 45 minutes to finish up here and get back to the car.”

“Should that inspire some panic in me?” I asked.

Nia stopped and took me by the shoulders.

“We came here on a mission to find Halloween costumes, and we found absolutely nothing.”

I glanced in vain at my hands where I had hoped the cute clothes fairy had deposited something sassy and, dare I hope, sparkly.

“We didn’t do that, did we?”

“We ran away before we could pick anything.”

“Alright, well, then we have to dive back in and not be frightened by the native mall people.”

Throughout the rest of our scouring of the mall I had performed a clandestine mission looking for yellow tights, determined that she wasn’t going to keep me from being the bee that my soul told me to be, but I had been unsuccessful. Now the plan has shifted and I was looking ahead to pouring myself into at least a yard too little of black mini-dress I was fairly sure was woven partially out of ultra-sparkly aluminum foil and black leggings I prayed would conceal a multitude of things I didn’t feel needed to say hello to the world. A pair of murderous shoes waited conspiratorially in a box at my feet. I hoped that if they sat near my feet for a little while before I strapped them on they would come to an understanding and the shoes wouldn’t want to hurt their new friends.

Chapter Three

Roman

Why in the hell am I doing this to myself again?

I stared out of the window of my plane as the ground started to come closer, the tiny pinpricks of illumination growing until they became distinct safety lights along the runway. I sighed and leaned my head back against the seat, swirling the drink in my hand as I went over every scenario of how this reunion was going to unfold in my head again. They had been tormenting virtually my every waking moment since I had agreed to go to the reunion and now I was experiencing the gnawing feeling in the upper part of my belly that I usually got when I thought about seeing my family. That was one of the delightful things that I had discovered when my age tipped over forty. Rather than just getting angry butterflies when I was nervous or dreading something, I got a raging case of indigestion. It felt like a reminder from the universe, as if because I didn’t feel like I was getting older I needed to have my ass smacked down a few pegs every now and then to remind me of the years that I had lived.

It had been several of those years since I had taken this trip back home to see my family. I wasn’t in a private plane then, and there were considerably fewer hotels and businesses with my name on them dotting the world, but even with all of that backing me up, I still felt nervous about walking into the reunion and seeing my family again. The truth was I probably wouldn’t have even considered attending the annual event if it hadn’t been for Nia. Still my “little cousin” in my mind even though I was aware that she was now a fully-grown woman, Nia had been one of the few members of the family who hadn’t totally turned their back on me, and the only one who I connected with on a regular basis. Though I had secured her a job in the biggest of my hotels in her area and occasionally encouraged a bonus or two on her paychecks to make sure that she was doing alright, I hadn’t seen her since the last time that I attended a family reunion. It was her, though, that told me that this reunion was also acting as an anniversary party for our great-grandparents. Considering they were both 101, I figured that now was probably the time to go visit and try to make amends.

As the plane slid down toward the ground, I started to question whether this was actually a good idea. I could have planned a visit to my great-grandparents without having to involve the rest of the expansive family. I felt like I was building myself up for disaster. I took a breath as I stood and slipped my jacket back on, buttoning it and smoothing it into place before the door to the cabin opened so I could walk down the steps onto the tarmac. On the other hand, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It had been years. Maybe that had given all of them the opportunity to cool down and gain some perspective about my choices. It was possible that I could walk into the party and they would welcome me with open arms. Or at least look at me in vague anonymity. Even that would be better than the last few minutes of the reunion the last time that I saw them.

I accepted my bag from the attendant when I reached the tarmac and started toward the limo that was waiting for me. It would bring me to the hotel where I was staying and from there I would take my own car, one of a fleet that I kept stashed throughout the country to ensure that I was never without personal transportation when I was traveling. Hopefully not having a driver bring me should make me seem a little more approachable to the family who thought that money had somehow put me on another plane of existence than them – or at least that I thought that it did.

I arrived at the hotel and inquired at the front desk about Nia, wondering if she was working that day or if she had already taken off to go to the reunion. They told me that she wasn’t there and I started upstairs feeling a touch of disappointment.

Damn. My escape hatch plan thwarted.

Once in the penthouse of the hotel I changed into a pair of grey slacks and a sweater, gathered up the gift that I had ordered for my great-grandparents’ anniversary, and headed down to the parking garage. My car was waiting for me in its reserved spot just as it always was and I let out a breath as I climbed behind the wheel. It still had the fresh new car smell, something that was to be expected of a car that was so rarely used. In fact, I had myself only driven it twice. Those two times were the only two times that I had been back to the area, once when the hotel opened and once when I planned on surprising my mother with a visit, but found the home empty when I arrived. I later found out that I had skillfully planned my visit for the one time that the family took a vacation together, heading to the islands for a brief trip.

The car rumbled smoothly beneath me despite its age and I knew that it was being driven once a month like I requested.

I kept the radio off as I drove, my own thoughts distracting me enough as I made my way along the familiar route. I had followed it countless times during my childhood. So many that I probably could have done it with my eyes closed. The silence meant that I was able to hear the reunion in full swing before I even saw the house. Music blared and the voices of dozens of relatives spilled out into the street.

I’m sure the neighbors are just loving this. Considering virtually all of them are relatives and in attendance, though, that was actually probably accurate.

I parked behind an uneven row of vehicles from the relatives that didn’t live on the street and actually had to drive to the reunion, including Nia’s, which I recognized by the employee decal from the hotel on the back window and a bumper sticker I had sent her a couple of years back during one of my trips. I felt a smile come to my lips, remembering the two of us when we were younger. Though I had already been a young teenager when she was born, we were instantly bonded and it seemed that whenever the family got together, she was attached to my leg, going where I went, trying to do what I was doing. I didn’t mind. I enjoyed playing with her and as she got older, her sass and spark was enough to make even the tensest moments with my father bearable. The thought of my father made the burn in my chest worse and I had to grit my teeth to keep walking down the road. With any luck he wouldn’t even be here and I wouldn’t have to deal with him.

“Roman!”

I heard my name and looked toward the voice, seeing someone running toward me. It took a few seconds for me to realize that it was Nia. It had been so long since I had seen her and she had grown up in those years, going from the awkward, gangly teenager to a tall, confident-looking woman. I smiled and she opened her arms, jumping toward me to gather me in a tight hug.

“Nia!” I said. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I can’t believe you actually came.”

“I told you I was going to.”

“You’ve said that before,” she said, sliding down out of my arms and taking a step back to look at me. “I didn’t know if you were actually going to do it this time.”

“Well, people only celebrate their eighty-third wedding anniversary once,” I said.

Nia laughed.

“Or not at all.”

I nodded in agreement.

“It’s definitely not something that you see every day.”

“I can’t believe that they’ve been married for longer than a lot of people live.”

“I can’t believe that they’ve tolerated each other for that long.”

Nia tilted her head at me and gave me a disapproving glare.

“Well, that’s a depressing perspective.”

I knew most people would think that she was right, but I couldn’t help it. I had just never been able to wrap my head around the thought of sharing my life with one person. A night, sure. A weekend even. More than a month? It just wasn’t happening. I had no need to share my life with anyone. I had everything that I wanted, and the resources to get anything else that I might want. As much as I heard about the fulfillment that came with finding that one person and sharing your life with them, I honestly couldn’t think of any way that having someone I had to think about before I made any decisions, justify my every action to, and limit my activities because of, would be worth it. My life was mine. I had sacrificed enough for it, and I wasn’t going to give up any of it just for a woman.

“It happens, little cousin,” I said. “I’m just not the mate for life kind.”

“I think you could be,” she said. “You just haven’t found the right woman.”

“They haven’t made the right woman.”

I heard my grandmother calling everyone into the house for the lavish dinner that she prepared, the highlight of every family reunion. Nia grabbed my wrist as I started to walk away.

“I don’t want for this to be the last time that I see you for another decade or so,” she said. “I’m having a Halloween party tomorrow night at my house. I’ve invited some of the men from the hotel, so you won’t be the only upper crust crumb there. You’ll be the king of the crumbs, admittedly, but I’m sure you can blend in if you really try. Say you’ll come.”

The thought of a Halloween party with a bunch of people that I didn’t know was more appealing than this reunion, but I still wasn’t sure that it was something that I really wanted to do. I reached out and wrapped my arm around my cousin.

“Let’s see if I survive tonight first,” I said.

Seemingly assuaged by my even noncommittal answer, she wrapped her arm around my waist and we started for the house together. I felt myself relaxing, smiling at the relatives that I recognized and surprised at the number of young children who had sprung into the family tree in the time that I had been away. I was almost feeling happy about being there when I stepped into the house.

“Roman!”

My mother’s voice was the first thing that greeted me when I entered, quickly followed by the smell of my grandmother’s cooking, washing over me and carrying with it memories of my childhood. It was the food that I had been raised on, the flavors of generations passed, and things I hadn’t experienced since the last time that I stood in this place and promised myself that I wasn’t ever coming back. I turned toward my mother, smiling as she rushed across the entryway of the house toward me. Her eyes were wide and I could already see tears on her cheeks. I felt my breath catch slightly. She looked so much older than she had the last time I saw her and I felt a harsh breath of regret in my chest. I had never meant to leave her behind. She hadn’t been the one to push me away, but it had been her that had been hurt the most by my leaving.

I held my mother close to me, breathing in the smell of her that brought me back to being a child as much as the smell of the dinner now spread through three rooms in the back of the house. I was starting to say something to her, to apologize, to try to explain to her why I had stayed away, when I heard my name again. This time the word didn’t bring me the happiness that it had when I had heard it in the voice of my cousin and my mother. I felt my mother tense and take a step away from me. Steeling myself, I turned around to face my father.

“Hello,” I said.

He swaggered toward me, the wild look already starting to build in the corners of his eyes.

“John, please,” my mother said, her voice soft and frightened.

I took a step toward my father, putting myself between them.

“I hear you actually drove here,” my father said. “I’m sorry we didn’t clear enough space for you to land your helicopter.”

My muscles tightened and I felt my jaw twitch.

“John,” my mother said from behind me, “he just got here. We haven’t seen him in so long. Do you have to be this way to him already?”

His eyes shot toward her and I stepped to the side to further conceal her from him.

“He doesn’t know any other way to be to me,” I said.

All of the bitterness that had built up in me over the years burned in my throat and filled my mouth. Seeing him brought everything crashing back harder and more intensely than it had before, and part of me wished that I had never come. The other part of me, though, was tired of backing down, tired of letting him make me feel like a child even though I was now well beyond the point where I was a grown man. I saw in his face the cause of all the pain, fear, and disappointment as I grew up, all of the questions about myself that I had ever asked, and the cause of my break from my family.

“Is there any other way that I should treat you?” He laughed like he had made some sort of hilarious joke that all of us had missed. “Oh. I guess that you think that we should be throwing ourselves at your feet and worshipping you like everyone else does.”

“I don’t expect anyone to worship me.”

His face went dark.

“Of course, you do. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have turned your back on the family.”

“Turned my back on you?” I asked incredulously. “I’m not the one who said that I was no longer your son just because I wanted to pursue something else. Something that has brought me tremendous success, I might point out.”

“Success? Having money doesn’t make you successful. Just because you can throw around all the cash that you want to doesn’t mean that you’re successful. It means you sold yourself, and your family, out. Success comes from honor and hard work, two things that you know nothing about.”

I straightened, letting an angry breath stream out of my nostrils in an effort to keep myself from lashing out. My father might deserve to suffer my wrath, but my mother didn’t deserve to witness it. I forced myself to stay under control.

“I don’t know who you think you are talking to me about honor,” I said, keeping my voice low. “You were never there. You only cared about yourself. That,” I said, turning and pointing at my mother, “is my father. And my mother. She was everything to me. You never cared what we were going through when you were out chasing the next gig or running the next show. It didn’t matter to you how hard she was working or how much I wished that you were here for me the way that other people’s fathers were. The only times that you ever cared was when I did something that you didn’t like. The only attention I got from you was when you were punishing me.”

“Roman.”

I felt my mother take my arm, trying to pull me back away from my father, but I gently shook her off.

“No, Mama. He needs to hear this.” I took another step toward my father. “You don’t care that I’m not a part of the family. You only cared that I didn’t go into the business because you wanted to be able to take credit for anything that I did in it. You wanted to bask in my fame and take my money. It was never about honor. It was about you. And because of that, I lost everyone who ever meant anything to me. But you lost any chance of ever being able to take advantage of me again. I might not have the kind of success that you think that I should – but at least you don’t, either.”

I walked around my father, moving deeper into the house where my grandparents and great-grandparents waited. I knelt down in front of my great-grandparents and took their hands in mine. I kissed them and held them to my chest, apologizing for all the time that I had spent away from them. I could hear my father shouting in the front of the house and the slam of the front door, but I filtered it out. As long as my mother wasn’t with him, I didn’t care how he reacted.

By the end of the reunion, I felt like I had been gutted and filled with sand. Though I was relieved to have finally had this confrontation with my father, the stares and questions from my family and the years of pressure I had finally released pulled on me until I was exhausted. I kissed my mother goodbye and started out of the house, ready to go back to the hotel and sleep until I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer.

“Roman.”

I turned around and saw Nia coming toward me. She didn’t look as gleeful as she had when she first saw me and she came close to my side.

“Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Just because I just turned what is very likely the last anniversary celebration that my great-grandparents will have into a family smackdown? No. I’m great.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the party tomorrow?” she asked. “I promise it will be fun and we’ll be the only relatives there.”

I laughed softly.

“You know what? Sure. I’ll come. A little bit of time away from all the stress and focusing on having some fun will do me some good. You tell me when and where, and I’ll be there with bells on.”

“You better be there with costume on.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Chapter Four

Beatrice

“Why do you look like you’re going to your ninety-year-old husband’s funeral?”

Nia was looking at me with distasteful expression like I had deeply offended her with my choice of clothing. I glanced down at the floor-length black dress I was wearing and back at her.

“It’s chic,” I said.

“It’s creepy,” she replied.

“It’s Halloween,” I pointed out. “Isn’t being creepy a plus on Halloween?”

“Not at a party like this. You’re supposed to be cute and sexy. What happened to being a koala?”

“I told you I wasn’t wearing a fur-covered thong in public.”

“Public? I thought you were coming to the party tonight, Elvira.”

I looked over my shoulder to see the third roommate from the house, Alice, coming into the room. She was wearing essentially the same bra-and-panties ensemble that Nia had tried to convince me to wear, only hers was covered in faux fur in black and white stripes.

“I’m not Elvira. I’m just…dark and mysterious,” I said. “What are you supposed to be?”

Alice struck a few poses and twirled around to show off her costume, which barely contained all that was Alice.

“A snow leopard,” she said. “Isn’t it adorable?”

I was starting to respond when the door opened and our neighbor walked in carrying a huge plastic cauldron of candy.

“Why are you wearing old lady lingerie?”

I rolled my eyes and threw up my hands in exasperation.

“I put on a black dress and did my makeup for what I thought was supposed to be a creepy party.”

All three women stared at me and I knew that I had somehow totally missed the purpose of that night’s festivities.

“The party is about being sexy and trying to find somebody to enjoy a few sweet treats with,” Alice said.

“And here I thought it was supposed to be about Halloween.”

“Like I said.”

I let out another exasperated sound and stared at Nia.

“So, what am I supposed to do? I couldn’t find any yellow tights, so I can’t be a bee.”

“Your name is Bea so you can’t be a bee. We’ve been over this.”

“My name isn’t Bea. We’ve been over that, too. But that’s beyond the point. I can’t be a bee. I’m certainly not going to be a koala. And apparently I can’t just be something dark and sophisticated – “

“And non-descript,” Cheryl added.

“—so, what am I supposed to do?”

Nia glanced at the time and started toward me.

“Alright. The guests are supposed to be here in less than an hour. But that means that they probably won’t be here for an hour and a half. We have some time. Not a lot, but some. We’ll figure it out.”

“Oh,” Alice said as we started out of the room toward my bedroom. “I invited somebody to the party tonight. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Who is it?” Nia asked.

“This amazing guy I met the other night. He’s gorgeous.”

Her voice had gotten a distinctly dreamy tone to it and I resisted the urge to gag a little.

“You’ve known the man two days and you’re already inviting him to our home for my party?” Nia asked.

“I’ve known him three days, and did I mention that he’s gorgeous?”

Nia rolled her eyes and we continued on into my room to try to get me properly ready for the party.

There were already guests filtering into the house when Nia announced me ready to attend the party. She flung open the door, ready for my dramatic entrance, but I hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked.

“I thought we talked about this already,” Nia said. “I thought that you were excited to go to the party and get this Gregory guy out of your hair once and for all.”

“I am,” I said, then looked down at the costume that she had pieced together for me. “But are you really sure about this?”

I gestured at the tiny black dress and heels that I had bought during our excursion at the mall. Nia had refused to allow me to put the leggings on, replacing them with fishnets.

“You’re the one who picked them out,” she said.

“No. I’m the one who bought them. You’re the one who picked them out.”

“You could have refused.”

“Really?” I asked. “I could have just refused?”

Nia looked at me for a few seconds, then shook her head.

“Probably not.”

“Exactly.”

I let out a sigh.

“I’ve just never been seen in public like this before.”

“Like Cheryl pointed out, you aren’t going to be in public. You’re going to be in your living room. It just so happens that there will be other people here with you.” I sighed again and she walked up to me, turning me to look in the large mirror above my dresser. “You look amazing.” Suddenly her eyes lit up. “Wait right here.”

She rushed out of the room and then returned a few seconds later carrying something small and black in her hands. She stepped up behind me and brought it in front of my face. I realized that it was a small mask as she secured it behind my head.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Well,” she said, finishing the knot in the silky ribbons that held the mask in place, “you wouldn’t be a koala. So now you’re a raccoon.”

I looked at myself in the mirror.

I am the most BDSM raccoon that has ever existed. I am going to dominate the hell out of those trashcans.

The longer I looked at myself, though, the less humor I found in the look. I felt the sexy clothes changing the way that I thought about my body and the mask, though it only concealed part of my face, seemed to be chipping away at my inhibitions. I no longer felt like a meek virgin, out of place in both my inexperience and my teetotaling ways among the rowdy crowd that was rapidly filling the house. A new confidence rushed into my chest and I straightened my back, squaring my shoulders.

Maybe I could do this.

“Are you ready?” Nia asked.

I nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

We walked out of the room and started down the stairs. I was only halfway to the main floor of the house, though, when I felt myself stop in my tracks, all confidence disappearing and a painful, sick feeling coiling in my belly. Nia walked down two more steps before realizing that I had stopped. She turned and looked at me.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I was staring ahead, feeling unable to move. She followed my eyes, gasping as she saw what I had seen…Cheryl crushed up against the wall, her leg crooked over Gregory’s hip as he grabbed her ass and did his best to lick the inside of her throat.

My body started to shake and I felt my hands tingling.

What the fuck was he doing here?

I wanted to run. I wanted to turn around and run right back up the steps, strip off the ridiculous outfit, scrub my heavily made-up face, and spend the rest of the Halloween night curled up in my bed pretending that the party didn’t happen. Cheryl giggled and I saw Gregory’s lips curl up in the smile that had once seemed like the most alluring, beautiful smile in the world, but now only reminded me of the way he looked at me the night that I stood in the rain on his front porch and he laughed in my face for chasing him. My resolution returned and I started down the stairs again.

Cheryl looked up as Nia and I approached, a grin spread across her smeared lips. I couldn’t identify what animal she was supposed to be, but I felt that, much like our taste in men, we would probably be scouring the same trashcans together.

“Nia!” she said happily. “You have to come meet Gregory.” She patted him on the chest and swayed slightly. Apparently, she had already been hitting the glowing brain-shaped punch bowl. “Gregory, this is my neighbor, Nia. This is her party. And this…” she looked at me and gasped. “Beatrice! You look incredible!” She looked over at Gregory. “This is my other neighbor, Beatrice. We call her Bea.” She leaned toward her, lowering her voice to what I could only imagine she thought was a conspiratorial whisper. “She says she hates it when we do that, but I think she actually thinks it’s cute. Shhhhh. Don’t tell her.”

I gave a bitter smile, knowing that my misdirected neighbor not only had no idea that she was currently attempting to climb inside who I was coming to realize was probably Alice’s date, but how well said date and I already knew each other. Introductions were most certainly not necessary.

“Hello, Bea,” he said, laughing slightly as if he thought this was all hilarious.

Cheryl grabbed onto Nia and Nia guided her away, glancing back over her shoulder at us with a look that threatened me if I dare got real blood mixed up in her fake blood decorations.

“Hello, Gregory,” I said. “Should I let Alice know you’re here, or should I just let you tell her yourself?”

I started to walk away, but he reached out and took hold of the strappy back of the dress, pulling me back toward him and turning me so that I was in his arms.

“Don’t be like that, Bea,” he said.

I thrashed out of his grasp and whipped around sharply, trying to get away from him. As I did, I walked directly into a warm, bare chest. I stared at it for a moment, letting my eyes play across the deeply chiseled pecs and abdominals, then lifted my gaze to the man’s face. It was concealed behind a mask that covered the top half of his face, but the lush lips still visible beneath it curved up in a hint of a smile.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

The man shook his head slightly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

He walked around me and headed into the kitchen, and I spun back around to look at Gregory. My heart was pounding in my chest but I didn’t know if it was the fury that I felt toward him or a reaction to the brief encounter with the shirtless masked man.

Maybe a combination of both.

“She wasn’t wrong,” Gregory said, taking a step toward me. “You do look incredible.” He reached up and ran his fingertips along the neckline of my dress. “It looks like you’re finally coming around to what I wanted from you.”

I wanted to punch him. I wanted to grab him by those nether regions that I had cursed at the grocery store and toss him into the tower of pumpkin beer that Nia had created in the corner. I wanted to scream. Before I could select which one of them I was going to attempt first, however, I heard Alice calling his name from behind me. Gregory smiled as he peered over my shoulder at her, seamlessly forgetting the encounter with Cheryl had even happened. This was his master skill, and one day I knew that it was going to come back and bite him in the ass. For now, though, it just left him basking in as much attention as he could want at any given moment.

“There you are,” he said as Alice approached. “I was getting worried about you.”

You slimy, soul-sucking, twisted son of a—actually, son of a delightful woman. His mother was a wonderful person. I wouldn’t want to put the shame of raising him on her. Twisted waste of space and breath.

Alice came up smiling like a first grader who just got her first Valentine and draped herself over Gregory. She kissed him and stared longingly into his eyes for several seconds before even realizing that I was standing there.

“Oh! Beatrice. This,” she flattened her hand on his chest and smiled at him again, “is Gregory.”

“I’ve heard.”

“This is my roommate.”

“Oh, really?” Gregory asked.

“Well, I’m going to bring my piece of Halloween candy out onto the dancefloor,” Alice said.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at her. As they started away from me, Gregory leaned in.

“Roommate, huh? Now that I know you can look like this, maybe I’ll be visiting Alice more often.”

He walked away and I felt my hands ball into tight fists at my sides.

“Are you alright?” Nia asked as she stepped up beside me. “I’m sorry I left you here with him. I thought taking Cheryl away would distract him.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “What’s Halloween without at least one monster, right?”

I looked at Nia and saw that she was holding one of the bottles of beer from the tower. I snatched it out of her hand and downed a massive gulp.

“Bea!” she gasped.

I coughed as the alcohol burned my throat and the strange taste registered in my mind like spoiled pumpkin pie.

“Good lord, that’s awful,” I said, handing it back to her.

Someone walked past with a plateful of jello shots layered to look like candy corn. I took one and tossed it back. It jiggled across my tongue and slithered down my throat, mercifully very little flavor but the orange and lemon behind.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Nia said.

“No,” I said shaking my head. “That one wasn’t bad at all. What was in that?”

Nia glanced at the person who was carrying the plate and I followed her gaze to watch him hand one of the shots to a visibly pregnant mummy.

“Well, considering Ben just handed one to his wife who’s due in three weeks, I’m going to go with those are the plain ones I made for her. So…. nothing.”

“Shit.”

“What are you doing?”

She sounded worried about me, but I didn’t feel like stopping long enough to analyze what I was thinking or feeling. I just wanted it all to go away.

“You said that I should come to the party and have some fun, right? Forget Gregory? Well, since he’s decided to make that so very much harder, I’m just going to have to work that much harder to get him out of my head. So, let’s go have some fun.”

I pushed past her toward the living room where a tall, bearded man dressed appropriately as a Viking was mixing drinks. I danced my way over to this more sophisticated, and hopefully more palatable, version of the beer tower and accepted the clear glass that he held out to me. The red liquid inside glowed thanks to the help of an illuminated ice cube in the bottom and I swirled it around for a second before tossing it back. It burned through my mouth and down into my belly, but the sweet taste counteracted it and I didn’t immediately feel like returning it to the world. I reached into the cup with my fingertips to grab the cube and handed the cup back to the man. He started to fill it again, but Nia grabbed me by my wrist and started guiding me away from him.

“Thank you, Mark,” she said. “I think she’s OK for now.”

“I’ve only had one drink,” I protested.

“Yeah,” Nia said. “Ever. In your life. You keep going like that and you’re going to be blacked out before the party even gets all the way going. Just settle down a little.”

“I don’t want to settle down. I’ve been settled my whole life. I want to have fun.”

I rushed into the room where music was blaring and jumped into the people already dancing. I could feel hands gliding along me and bodies pressing against me as I danced, but I didn’t even care who was near me. My mind was starting to swim just enough that it was amplifying the uninhibited confidence started in me by the mask and costume and I could feel myself getting blissfully lost in the throbbing music, slithering bodies, and flashing lights around me.

As I danced I felt someone watching me. I looked up, dreading seeing Gregory, and instead found the shirtless man leaned against the doorframe, his eyes locked on me from behind his mask. I couldn’t see his entire face, but something about that only made him sexier and I felt my body responding to him. I knew he was older. Considerably older. When I first saw him, I had noticed the streaks of silver in his hair along his temples. This must be one of the men from the hotel that Nia said she had invited. I didn’t care. In fact, that only made it better. I enjoyed the way his eyes on me made me feel and by the next morning he probably wasn’t going to remember me, so it didn’t matter. I could go into November with Gregory out of my system once and for all.

Nia and Cheryl jumped into the crowd beside me and I took a sip from the drink that Cheryl was holding. It was much stronger than the other and I felt it hit me almost immediately. Everything around me was more alive and I didn’t care about anything anymore. I laughed, tilting my head back as I let myself drift away. I danced there until the heat of all of the people around me started to get to me and then broke away to go out onto the porch where some of the party had overflowed. The cooler air out there revived me and I joined another group dancing in an elaborate cemetery scene that Nia had built.

I had to give it to the girl, she knew how to throw a party.

I was twirling around, knowing that I was likely making a complete fool of myself but no longer caring, and shouting along with Vincent Price when I slipped off the edge of the porch. Taking a few running steps to catch myself so I wouldn’t fall, I ended up in the shadowy corner of the yard. The music wasn’t as loud here, creating the perfect environment for me to hear the low, rhythmic grunts and high moans that punctuated them coming from the small gazebo tucked in the corner. I took a cautious step toward it and saw two figures bent over the bench, their bodies pumping in time to the music and their own sounds. I was turning away when I heard a voice coming toward me.

“Hey there, Beatrice,” Gregory said. “Want to join us?”

Disgust rose up in me and I ran back toward the porch. In the blur of people, lights, and chaos, I tripped over one of the tombstones, twirled around to try to right myself, and fell back over another. Losing my balance completely, I started to fall, but felt myself get caught in strong arms. They guided me away from the tombstone and set me on my feet. I turned around and found myself staring at the masked man. My heart was pounding and my mind spinning. I didn’t know what was happening, but an instant later my mouth was on his. His arms looped around my waist and drew me up against the warmth of his bare chest and belly so that he could deepen the kiss. Our mouths tangled, catching and pulling at one another almost desperately. I felt him guiding me away from the crowd on the porch and into the shadows on the other side of the lawn.

He sat down on the bench that I had positioned on the edge of my garden and pulled me down into his lap. The straddled position pushed my skirt up nearly to my hips and I felt the cool night air rush over my upper thighs and against the wet heat that was building between them. I pressed that feeling into him and was rewarded with a subtle lift of his hips that nudged a rapidly hardening bulge against me. I gasped slightly and he pulled back, looking at me through eyes that I could now see were green, slumbering, and intense.

“Come to my hotel with me,” he growled.

I stammered for a moment, unsure of what to say. This was starting to feel like a runaway train and I wasn’t sure I was ready to go along with it.

“I think I should stay here,” I said.

He lifted his hips again, nudging me more insistently, and brought his mouth to the side of my neck. I felt myself and all of my resistance melting away in the kiss.

“Are you sure?” he murmured.

I was starting to answer when I heard a scream from across the lawn. I jumped off of the man’s lap and rushed toward the sound of the screaming, worried that something had gone terribly wrong. When I got to the other side, I found Cheryl and Alice standing a few feet from the gazebo, where a third woman I didn’t know was scrambling to return her slutty flight attendant costume to its full and upright position. Gregory was behind her, zipping up in a way that was far more casual than her apparent desperation to get away from the screaming women.

“What the fuck, Gregory?” Alice shouted. “What the actual fuck?”

Actual fuck? What does that even mean? Is there a hypothetical fuck? Metaphorical perhaps?

“Calm down, Alice,” Gregory said, stepping out of the gazebo after the flight attendant made her escape and ran into the house. “I was just spending a few minutes with an old friend. I’m still here with you.”

It was like I was looking back in time and I expected the same sickening feeling to rush through me. Instead, I only felt anger and pity.

“Like hell you are,” Nia said, coming down from the porch. “You aren’t here with anybody. Get out.”

The crowd roared around her and I felt like I had stumbled onto the set of a high school angst movie. Gregory scoffed, looking around like he thought this was all a joke, but then headed back across the porch and into the house, hopefully to sink away into the scum from whence he came and not return. His departure seemed to break down the camaraderie that had formed between the two wronged women and they turned on each other, screaming and flailing. Nia and I rushed toward them, peeling them apart and trying to calm them down. When we finally succeeded in getting them to call a truce long enough for Cheryl to go home, I turned back to the bench, but the masked man was no longer there. I let out a sigh.

Maybe that’s for the best.

Dammit.

The party went fairly downhill from there. People chose sides, battles broke out, I spent several minutes screaming at Gregory after finding him in my bedroom and chasing him out, and within a few minutes many of the guests had left. I stood out in the cemetery, looking out over the lawn as the relative quiet settled around me. Suddenly I felt someone step up behind me and warm breath touch the side of my neck.

“Trick or treat?”

I turned around, staying close enough to the masked man that my breasts brushed his chest.

“Treat,” I said.

He took his hand from behind his back and brought a piece of chocolate to my lips. I opened my mouth and let it settle onto my tongue. The explosion with Gregory and the women had taken away the effects of the alcohol from earlier, but the adrenaline was still coursing through me and just the slight touch of his fingers on my lips and the dark flavor of the chocolate melting on my tongue was electrifying.

“What would have happened if I had said ‘trick’?” I asked.

Without a word, the masked man scooped me off of my feet, tossing me easily over one shoulder, and started carrying me around the side of the house. I was too surprised to protest, and before I could fully process what was happening, I heard a car door open and felt myself get tossed inside. Seconds later he was in the driver’s seat and we were zooming down the street away from the lingering remnants of the party.

Chapter Five

Beatrice

I was breathless as we pulled into a reserved spot in the parking deck beneath the hotel and the masked man walked around the car to open my door. He reached in and took my hand to help me out, then scooped me up over his shoulder again. I squealed this time, but a sharp smack on my ass quieted me, a combination of surprise and scintillation stunning me into silence. I heard the door to an elevator open and he stepped inside, setting me on my feet as the doors slid closed. The instant that the elevator started moving, he pushed me against the wall, his body closing in over me so I felt fully enveloped by him. His mouth captured mine and I felt him reach down, grabbing both of my hands and bringing them up to pin them on the wall above my head.

My back arched as he dropped his mouth to the side of my neck again, kissing his way down to my collarbone before drawing his tongue back up in a long lick that made my body shiver. He pulled back, looking at me for a few long seconds before diving in again for another deep, passionate kiss. I could feel the bulge at the front of his pants hardening again, straining against the fabric as if toward me, and a new, almost foreign ache built between my thighs. It was a hunger, a need that I hadn’t felt before, and I threw myself into the kiss that was building it, rushing toward what would satiate the feeling.

When the elevator opened, the man stepped out, walking directly to the door in front of us and using his hand pressed against a sensor beside it to gain access. This struck me, but I was too enthralled by the sight of him as he stood in the middle of the room to think any further on it. I entered the room and reached down to release the buckle on one of my shoes.

“Stop,” he said.

I felt embarrassment burn across my cheeks as I straightened, but he stepped up to me and lowered himself to his knees, settling his hands on either side of my thigh and running them down my leg. When he reached the strap around my ankle, he released the buckle and carefully helped me step out of the shoe. He repeated the process on the other leg and I felt a shock roll through me as his fingers brushed my core when his hands touched my thigh. Once he got me out of my shoes, the man slid his hands under my skirt and grabbed the waistband of my fishnets. He drew them down, gradually revealing my legs to him. When he had tossed the hose aside, he stood and took several steps back from me. His hands went to his belt and I watched, trembling slightly, as he released it. His fingers made quick work of the button of his pants and then drew his zipper down. I was instantly aware that he wasn’t wearing anything beneath them.

My mouth watered as his thick cock sprang out. He dropped his pants to his feet and kicked them aside to join his socks, shoes, and my shoes and fishnets. His body looked even more delectable now and I felt the irresistible need to touch him. I stepped up to him, flattening my hands on his chest and stroking them up and over his shoulders. My fingertips played along the deeply carved muscles there and wove their way down his arms and over onto his back. They were unexpected, something I never would have thought that I would see on one of the men that Nia described, but that only made them that much more enticing to me. I wanted to run my mouth along them, to trace them with my tongue and discover all of their details.

I started that now, drawing up to the balls of my feet to make myself taller so I could brush my lips, still swollen from the intensity of his kisses, across one arm. He groaned softly as I let the tip of my tongue slip between my lips and taste his beautiful tan skin. One hand reached around to my back and he felt for my zipper, grasping it and drawing it down as I started around his body to kiss on his back. The flimsy dress was falling away from my body, but I made no move to correct it, instead letting it slip away as I explored his skin.

By the time I reached his other arm, the dress was pooling at my hips and he gathered it in one hand, pushing it down so I stood in only a black lace thong that had never been seen on my body by anybody but me. I liked being seen in it now as I watched his eyes rove over me, pausing briefly on my tightened nipples and then traveling to the apex of my thighs. One arm wrapped around my back and then the other swept behind my legs to scoop me up against his chest, his mouth dipping down to mine as he started carrying me through the room. He hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, but the far wall was comprised completely of windows and the moonlight shining in was enough for him to navigate through the sprawling room. It seemed bigger than my house, but I didn’t mind the time it took to make our way through it. It gave me more opportunity to savor the feeling of his warm skin against mine and the hardness of his erection against my hip.

Finally, we made it into the bedroom and he climbed up onto the small platform that held the bed. He lowered me to my feet, allowing me to slide down his body, and caught my face with one hand. Cupping my jaw, he tilted my head back so that I looked up at him, and lowered his mouth down slowly, pausing just before his lips touched mine. His tongue slipped across my lower lip, then along the part between them. I slid mine toward his, touching it with the tip. The slower, more concentrated movements made me tremble, the anticipation building within me until I felt like my body was going to ignite.

The masked man ran his hands down my body from my ribs into the dip of my waist and onto my hips. He turned me around and pressed me forward so that I leaned over, my hands landing on the bed in front of me. The guiding pressure of his hands continued until I was fully on the mattress on my hands and knees. His fingers ran down my spine, then I felt his tongue replace them, tracing back up to my neck, where he slipped his hand around to cup the front of my throat and kissed the soft dip beneath my ear. He was hovering over me and I could feel his cock dipping between my thighs and nudging at the wet heat that was soaking my panties and dampening my skin. I arched, pressing toward him, inviting him to relieve the pressure.

Instead, he pulled away, the presence of his body disappearing from around me. I was disappointed, but then I felt his hands come to the waistband of my panties and he slid them away, easing them off of my legs until I was totally bare and presented to him. The man’s hands pressed my thighs apart and I shivered as the air of the room around me cooled my core. The chill lasted only a few seconds, however, before I felt the man’s mouth close over me.

I cried out at the sensation of his tongue sliding through my folds and he reached through my legs to press his hand to my belly, drawing me back further against him so that he could continue the dizzying, nearly overwhelming torment. I felt like I was going to shatter when he took his mouth from me and I felt the firm, swollen tip of his cock massaging into the intensely sensitive flesh that he had coaxed forward. I was fully open to him, tingling and aching for him, and an instant later I felt him fill me.

I wanted to scream, but my voice caught in my throat as I felt his body slam into mine, causing me to stretch to accommodate him. There was a sharp pain and I felt my belly curve in against a deep ache that formed there, but the pleasure was too much for me to care. I heard the man groan, the sound primal and unchained, and I let my knees slide further apart on the bed. This welcomed him deeper and his hips began to thrust into me. The feeling was almost too much for me, making my arms shake until they seemed to fold up beneath me and my upper body dropped to the bed. I could feel my breasts brushing against the comforter with each hard stroke, stimulating my nipples so the sensation increased even further. One of the man’s hands cupped one breast, kneading into it, as the other slid around my hip to rest on my pelvic bone. His finger slipped down and touched my clit, sending another crash of sensation through me and drawing another cry from my throat.

The man used his hold on me to pull me back and for the first time I realized that he was on his knees on the bed with me. He drew me toward him until he was sitting on his feet and I was straddling his lap backward, riding him as his finger swirled over my taut pearl and his mouth kissed along my neck. I felt like I couldn’t bear the power of the pleasure he was creating within me any longer. I gave my body over to him, finally screaming out as a blinding orgasm tore through me and my entire body tensed, then shuddered as waves of release washed over me.

The man guided me forward until I was on my belly, bending one of my knees up against the mattress so that I was even more open to him. He plunged inside me harder and pounded into me faster, his animal-like grunts filling the space around us until I could feel my arousal spiraling upward again. With a final growl, he slammed into me, pressing as deeply as he could, and I felt his cock throb, pulsing as my body’s renewed climax drew him further in and milked him.

I felt his body collapse down onto me, the warmth and pressure of his weight enveloping me. It was strangely comforting and I slipped into sleep to the touch of his lips against my cheek.

****

Holy hell, what have I done?

I don’t know how long I had been sleeping, but when I woke up, my mind was clear and everything that had just happened rushed back to me. We were still sprawled across the bed, one of the man’s arms draped over me almost possessively as I lay on my belly. I eased out from under it and hazarded a look back. He was no longer wearing his mask and I felt my heart leap a little when I looked into his face.

Dear lord, he’s beautiful.

Without the mask I could see the strong structure of his face and the thick, long lashes that rested against his cheeks as he slept. His full lips were parted slightly in his sleep and I felt the urge to kiss them, to taste him one more time. Despite being able to see just how gorgeous he was, without the sexy allure of the mask the man became far too real and the sobering reality that I had just slept with a man I didn’t know – that my first time had been with someone whose name I hadn’t even heard – settled in. I climbed out of the bed and walked around to the table where I had seen a pad of paper and pen sitting.

I grabbed them and crept out of the bedroom and into the front of the room again, wanting to grab my clothes. I slithered into the dress before realizing that my thong was still in the bedroom. Leaning on the counter that surrounded a small kitchen to one corner, I jotted down a note and then rushed back into the bedroom. Taking one last look at the gorgeous man sleeping across the massive bed, I rested the note on the pillow beside him, scooped up my thong, and ran.

I was all the way back down in the parking deck before I realized that I had no way to get home. I was contemplating how long it would take me to walk when I remembered the cash that I had tucked beneath the insole of one of my heels. I took off the shoe, which I hadn’t even bothered to buckle again, and peeled back the small section of the insole that I had loosened right after bringing them home. I let out a sigh of relief when the corner of the bills appeared.

Thank the universe for terrifying public service announcement pre-prom assemblies in high school.

Chapter Six

Roman

The sun was streaming into the window, poking my eyelids and waking me up. I groaned and reached my hand toward the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out the remote for the drapes. The heavy curtains slid into place, blocking the sunlight and casting the bedroom into blissful darkness. I rolled over and settled back into the pillow, wanting to go back to sleep, not caring what time it was. I had never been one to like to wake up early. When I needed to be at work I was forced out of bed sometimes before the sun even rose, but on the weekends and when I was taking time off, there were times when if I managed to drag myself into the world of the conscious before the cafes started serving lunch it was impressive.

I was drifting away again when a sudden flash of the night before crossed my mind and the image of the incredibly sexy woman I had whisked away from the party became the only thing I could think about. Maybe a little morning romp with her could get my day started and make this visit home a bit more worth it. I rolled over and reached through the darkness toward the other side of the bed where she had fallen asleep. Instead of feeling her soft, velvety naked skin, though, I only felt blankets. I ran my hand up and down the bed and realized that the covers were cold, telling me that she had been gone for some time. Turning on the light, I sat up and looked around the room. I almost didn’t notice the piece of paper sitting on the pillow. When I did, I picked it up and read it.

Thank you for giving me the best trick-or-treat of my life.

Let’s meet next year. Same place.

That was it. No name. No phone number. No way of contacting her at all.

See how Roman and Beatrice’s story unfolds. Get ACCIDENTAL daddy .