Page 93 of Baby Daddy
CHAPTER 39
Drake
It was the perfect night for a celebration. Tyson was celebrating her kindergarten graduation with a pizza party at her friend Chandra’s house. Gunther Saxton, who was still in LA, had called for one to toast my toy deal and the imminent acquisition of Hanson Entertainment—now a handshake away.
Musso & Frank Grill on Hollywood Boulevard was the oldest restaurant in Tinseltown. Opened in 1919, the iconic eatery still retained its original character with its high ceilings, wood paneling, and red leather booths. The classic steakhouse menu was also basically the same…except for the prices. As you walked into the restaurant from the parking lot through the back entrance, the restaurant’s original menu was framed on a wall. You couldn’t miss it. In 1929, the price of a filet mignon was a dollar. Today the same steak cost fifty. Times had indeed changed.
The maître-d’ led Dee and me to a table in the larger of the two dining rooms. We walked hand in hand, Dee’s soft and warm. My father and mother were already seated along with Gunther and his wife. She was what I expected—blond and buxom with a toothy smile and a Botox-filled face as taut as a tightrope. Unlike my mother who whispered wealth with her understated beauty and style, this woman screamed money with her blinding bling everywhere.
“Hi everyone,” I said enthusiastically, as Dee and I took our places, facing each other at the end of the table. My father was seated at one end, Gunther at the other, close to Dee and me. There was one empty chair. I wondered if it was reserved for Karl Vanderberg, my father’s financial advisor.
My parents welcomed us, and after shaking my hand, Gunther introduced us to his wife. Ingrid. I, in turn, introduced her to Dee. Gunther’s lecherous eyes stayed on my girl, lingering on her hint of cleavage. I wanted to rip his eyeballs out of their sockets. My gut still told me Mr. Family Man was not to be trusted.
“So lovely to finally meet you,” gushed Ingrid. Her voice was breathy, accented, and affected.
“The same,” replied Dee, demurely.
“Gunther told me you’re a single mother.”
“Y-yes. My husband passed away several years ago.”
“You’re so young to have endured that tragedy.”
Dee took in a shaky breath and agreed.
My mother chimed in. “She has the most delightful little girl.”
A nervous Dee twitched a small smile and thanked my mother for the compliment before she continued.
“Ingrid, you have to meet her.”
“I would love to.”
My turn. I inhaled a deep breath to fortify myself. “Everyone, we have some exciting news to share with you tonight.”
Dee shot me a puzzled look as a red-jacketed waiter brought a bottle of champagne to our table. He poured us each a glass.
I curled my fingers around the stem of the saucer-shaped glass and raised it. “Here’s something to toast to. Something I believe will seal the deal between my father and Saxton Enterprises.” All eyes were on me. “Dee and I are getting married.”
Shouts of congratulations and applause drowned out Dee’s gasp. I gave her a kick under the table for her to go with the flow. Yes, I’d acted impulsively and recklessly, but behind the façade was sincerity and passion. I hadn’t yet figured out how to make Dee my wife, but right now this was what was needed to make my father’s billion-dollar dream come true. And to let Gunther Saxton know that Dee was mine.
“Wonderful news! And can we expect some more little Hansons in the near future?” asked Gunther, reaching for his champagne glass.
Dee still couldn’t get her mouth to close. I answered for the both of us. “Yes. We plan to have a big family. Lots of little Hansons.” In addition to all the unknown ones running around out there, I added silently, still never able to forget my sperm donor past.
A massive smile exploded on Gunther’s face as he lifted his glass. “Then, let’s toast. First, to the impending nuptials of Drake and his lovely fiancée, Dee…and second, to my future CEO—”
“Am I missing something?” came a familiar shrill voice that cut Gunther short. “Sorry I’m late. The sudden downpour brought traffic to a standstill.”
Dressed to the nines in a blood-red mini dress, Krizia strutted over to our table in her six-inch high designer heels, holding a matching monster bag along with an umbrella. My father rose.
“Actually, Krizia, you’re just in time to hear the exciting news.”
My blood froze before Krizia could sit down in the vacant chair. Why didn’t my father tell me he’d invited her to this celebratory dinner? My heart squeezed as he continued.
“I’ll want a press release issued immediately.”
“Of course,” replied Krizia, flashing a smug grin.