Page 32 of Maid for Daddy

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Page 32 of Maid for Daddy

Stephen, our ever-vigilant protector, isn’t taking any chances when it comes to me and the children. He’s going to meet Samuel outside the manor first to make sure everything is on the up and up with him. He would rather never see his brother again than expose us to any danger, and I love him for that.

Stephen Junior, now fifteen and built just like his handsome father, has invited his girlfriend over after dinner. Sara, now thirteen, has invited two of her school friends and they’ve locked themselves in her room. Shawn, eleven, and Sammy, ten, are still too young to have guests on the weekend, but they’re too busy watching all the holiday specials to care.

“When I said I wanted this house filled with life, I didn’t think it would be like this,” Stephen tells me.

“The older they get, the more friends they have. I’d rather have them here with us than off at some stranger’s house anyway.”

“Agreed, but you’ve done an excellent job raising them. They’re good kids with good friends.”

“I do miss our nightly skinny dipping date, though,” I tease him.

“Yes, but we still swim. We just have to wear suits now.” He squeezes me and adds, “Have you ever known a little piece of fabric to prevent me from having my way with you?”

“Not once.”

The children are all busy with their own activities, so Stephen pours us some wine, and we sit quietly next to the Christmas tree.

“Is this the tallest tree that we’ve had?” I ask Stephen.

“It’s a twelve-footer. I think it is.”

“It’s so beautiful.”

“Just like you. Listen, I know it isn’t Christmas yet, but I want to give you something.”

“No, not yet. Wait for Christmas.”

“You never wait to give me my gifts.”

“I know and you always scold me for it.”

“Alright, then we won’t consider this a Christmas gift. It’s just a gift.”

“So, there will be something else under the tree for me?”

“There will be lots of things under the tree for you.”

He stands up, admiring my artwork on the wall. “It still amazes me that you can do this. I can’t paint a wall.”

“You have other talents that amaze me. You build companies and raise racehorses.”

“These paintings have got me thinking. The kids are older now. They’re all in school and don’t need your constant attention. How would you like to open an art studio in Nashua? You can sell your work, take commissions, maybe even give lessons.”

“I never thought about it. You know I love to paint, but I don’t know how to run a studio.”

“I build companies, remember? I’ll help you handle the business side of things.”

I contemplate it for a moment. “That does sound exciting. What made you think of it now?”

“I have a confession. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I know you’ve never complained about it, but you had a dream. Your father squashed it when he sent you here. You’ve given me everything I could ever ask for. Let me give you your dream.”

“I never complained because you’ve given me everything. I love our life and I love you.”

“I love you too. That’s why I bought you a studio,” he says and dangles a set of keys in the air.

“You bought me a studio? Stephen, I don’t know what to say. This is unbelievable.”

“Are you happy, baby girl?”




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