BABY DADDY (9 page)

“I didn’t know you’re having a crisis with your age. I think you’re still young to worry about not having children,” he says, his voice lower and softer.

“I’m still years away from menopause but I have a reproductive problem. I don’t wanna bore you with the details but my OB told me I have to rush getting pregnant now, like NOW or I’ll not have a baby at all. I can adopt but I want to try for my own first. Just one child.”

“I’m twenty-five,” he says.

It’s my turn to stare at him, aghast.

“Whaaat?! I thought you’d be a bit older...” my voice trails off, fresh waves of shame assaulting me, for a different reason now. Good lowd! I slept with a guy twelve years my junior! I was already a teener when he was born!
I really feel like a cradle snatcher now. Twelve years is too much of an age gap.

“Having a child has never crossed my mind yet.”

I wince inwardly. Okay, he likes to rub my lack of morals in. I have to accept it and endure it. “I know. Look, I’m really sorry, Raiden. Let’s just forget it happened, okay. Chalk it up to island fun?” I try to lighten it up for my benefit. Really, I’m inches from bawling my heart out in front of him. And THAT would be the ultimate humiliation. I will never, ever cry for a man again.

He doesn’t reply.

Silence ensues.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to your hotel,” he finally says.

“You don’t have to. I can manage.”

“I insist. Let’s go.”

His authoritative tone shut me up.

A twenty-five year old is commanding me like a boss. Imagine that. In my turf, nobody will even dare raise a protesting brow in my presence. That means the boot.

But he gives me no choice but to obey him.

I got back to my villa
with the weirdest feeling.

I was shaking my head as I trekked back, still unable to fully assimilate what transpired this evening.

My body hums with satiety but I wish… I sigh. I wish she’s still with me and we could do it again and again.

The night has ended in a fucking disaster. There’s no other way to call it. My two-week plan of fucking the most fuckable babe in the island who happens to be as smart as she’s beautiful went kaput.

I hit the bed.

I close my eyes. My mind immediately starts wandering back to what happened earlier. The feel of her, the taste of her. Damn, the smell of her…

I feel myself getting hard again.

Shit.

I toss and turn for a few minutes.

My bed smells of her now. And the memories she left here will not be forgotten soon.

I lingered too much and now I want more. But of course I can’t be with her again. The woman is nuts!

She wants my baby.

Crazy, scary shit. But don’t let my mother hear that. She’d go nuts of a different kind.

I get up and pour myself a glass of milk from the fridge at the mini-bar in my room. Sugar makes me sleepy.

I have practice early in the morning and I’d need a few solid hours of sleep.

So, what do I do now?
I’ve asked myself for a hundredth time as I lay down on the bed.

Prospect A failed.

Go to prospect B?

Who and where do I find him next?

I cringe at the thought of going through the hunting process again. It took me a week to spot Raiden and feel those butterfly wings in my belly. The thought of finding another man and sleeping with him again makes my stomach churn. Why do I find this whole baby-making mission repulsive now after Raiden? No, not my baby but the process of making my baby.

I may be pragmatic but I’m also an artist at heart. I wanted to be at least creative when conceiving my child. I didn’t want it to be formed inside a clinic with a cold metal delivering its components into my womb. I wanted to create my baby the natural way humans are created but I wanted to feel the creation within an environment and circumstance I can control.

Ah, control. I know control pretty well. I wield it with absolute authority in my territory. But control in sex is not something I’m good at. It’s my fault. I went into it ill-prepared.

Raiden on the other hand had it in spades. He had full control of his mind and body. I can believe his talks of discipline now.

He handled it so well. Not a careless man, considering his age.

And I…I thought I could handle it, but everything unraveled in the end. I gave myself away.

I sigh deeply and feel my chest constrict with regret and dying hope. I just know I can’t go through with it. Not like this.

I tried.

One shot.

One big failure.

SIX

___________________________________________________________

25 CONTROVERSIAL QUOTES FROM THE STYLE EMPRESS

On her toughest rivals in the biz:

"The fashion business is a huge orgy of nymphomaniacs

who cannot orgasm. That’s according to Karl, not me.

But I absolutely agree. I need my rivals to turn my juices on,

to keep me hungry. I cannot function without them.

I need them like my next breath.”

Stella Rhodes

__________________________________________________

FOR THE FIRST TIME,
I violate the privacy of a guest in the island.

I have no choice. I can’t locate her unless I go knock on the 150 occupied suites in that particular hotel one by one and find out its occupants. She’s clearly using an alias as most of the guests who come to the island do.

Riley, the island’s chief security looks at me speculatively but does my bidding. He runs me the island’s current guest manifesto. There are 3,850 of them right now billeted in different hotels.

I sit down in front of the computer screen and go over the pictures, fast-scanning them.

I heave a sigh of relief when I see her face.

She’s guest #2,538.

Stella Rhodes.

THE Stella Rhodes, designer and owner of the famous clothing brand StellaR.

So…I slept with Ms. Rhodes last night.

What in hell have I gotten myself into? What the hell was a woman like her doing hitting on me?

She wanted a baby.

I sit back and stare at her lovely face on the screen. I smile, heat warming me up immediately. She’s got the loveliest face. Not a sculpted face typical of celebrities but softly molded by her natural femininity. Her eyes are big and mysterious and in this picture, framed with black, thick, fake lashes, like the ones my mother wore in her old pictures. Her hair…so much hair, long, thick and lustrous that I can wrap my fingers on as I hammer her from behind while staring at her ass. She’s got the most kissable lips, too and her taste lingers on my palate. I’d like to feel them all over me, sucking me where I ache.

I want her again. And I will have her again.

“That her?” Riley asks from behind me.

“Yeap,” I answer, dragging the Y on my tongue.

“She’s hot. Not your usual type though.”

I glance up and shoot Riley a hard look. “And what do you think is my type?”

“Hey, you have to admit, she looks different from your usual hook ups.”

I smile and nod. “Yeah, she IS different. Find out where she is right now.”

Riley makes quick work at the keyboard. The screen immediately yields the info.

“She went to tour the village. Left her hotel at 8 AM.”

Damn, the village tour can take all day and I can’t wait that long. I need to talk to her. “Radio the guide of her tour and ask him to relay their exact location every time they move. I’m just going to take a shower at the villa and then follow them there. Hit me periodically for feedback.”

“What has the woman done to you? Or let me rephrase my question, what have you done to her?”

“None of your fucking business, old man,” I reply sourly at Riley’s egging.

Riley chuckles. “I smell a shitload of trouble coming your way. Careful, boy.”

You can say that again.

I leave the security room and drive my Hummer to the villa.

The fabrics are fabulous
.

I definitely found the inspiration for my new collection. Asian tribal weave works! Plus the beadworks! Oh my god, I’m going crazy, literally!

The way the natives craft their beadworks is so creative and unique. The color combinations are distinctive of any other tribal designs I’ve already seen and I’ve traveled a lot for work.

My mind is working on double time. Since I failed in my baby project, I might as well conduct some business while I’m here. That might take away the sting of what happened last night.

Sting?

Okay, pain. You just love to rub it in, bitch.

I don’t want to think about it too much. If I do, I’d pack my bags and leave right away.

The shame of it is killing me.

No, not the shame. I can get over that. It’s the disappointment that’s hard to take.

But I’ll get over it. I have to.

Work is a welcome diversion.

It always is. Story of my life.

Back to the grind, bitch.

I buy samples of each fabric to be used in my prototypes. I may have to come back in the future for further immersion with the native weavers. Chances are, Raiden won’t be in the island by then. I hope. A young man like him must have a lot of other exciting places to visit aside from this place.

Or if I can’t bear the thought of seeing him again, I may just send one of my junior designers to coordinate with the natives about my bulk orders in the future. I do plan to make these fabrics a part of my signature designs and contract the weavers to be exclusive to my company for an indefinite period of time. I can do a lot with these materials, from my RTW dresses and couture gowns to my signature bags and shoes and home decors.

Maybe after this village tour I’ll cut this vacay short. There’s nothing for me here anymore. I can’t go through with it. I can’t even bear the thought of approaching another man and seducing him to have sex with me. It just goes against the grain of my morals now.

Oh? Where were your morals last night?

I’d like to think Raiden was just a fluke. I almost gave up in finding him. But he came along and I felt it, him, the rightness of him in every fiber of my being. I’d just consider him an exception and leave it at that. Because really, bottom line, I really enjoyed his company.

And the sex, oh my God! Off the charts! Not that I have any other experiences to compare it with. But he sure blew Bob to oblivion last night. All in all, it’s not so bad.

Not bad at all.

No, I’m not giving up on my baby project. I can’t give up on that. I’ll just find another way.

I’ll talk to my doctor again about artificial insemination back in New York. That’s my last resort and I’m finally okay with that. If I can’t conceive, I’d just adopt, like Brangelina. Lots of orphans in the world who need love and care. I’d even top their record. I’d have seven kids. Anyway, I have a billion to splurge on them and counting.

I heard the sound of camera shutters. This is an exclusive tour I’ve arranged with the hotel so there’s nobody with me but Mina and our driver.

I look around.

A man is taking pictures of me.

I immediately confront him. “Hey, stop that! Why are you taking pictures of me? It’s not allowed here!”

He lowers the camera from his face and smiles at me.

My eyes widen. “Tom?”

“Hey, Ella.”

I run up to him and give him a bear hug. “Hey, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Well…I thought I could use a short break before Fashion Week.”

“Long way from home.”

“I wanted to see Asia for a change. So what are you doing here?”

“I’m shooting an event this Sunday for Sports Illustrated, the World Extreme Water Sports Competition.”

“Oh, what water sports?”

“Jet skiing, water skiing, wind surfing, wakeboarding and barefoot skiing.”

“Barefoot skiing? How can you ski on foot? What are they, Jesus?”

He grins. “It’s in fact a popular sport, but it’s my first time to cover it. We can go watch on Sunday.”

I smile back. “I’d love that.”

I might not have to leave sooner after all. Tom is a good friend who’s a brilliant freelance professional photographer for many reputed magazines in the US. I’ve hired him to do several of my billboard ads and my sales spiked up every time. Tom’s pictures are well-respected in the fashion industry.

“Where do you go from here?” I ask.

“To see the old temples in the village. Wanna join me?”

“Of course! I’m so glad you’re here, Tom.”

“Me too, Ella.”

Looks like she found another
man to give her a baby.