Fake It For Daddy (Sugar Daddy 1)

“What did you do?” he asks.

I blink. “Excuse me?”

He holds the mug up. “What did you do to this?”

“Nothing. I made it like always.”

He shakes his head. “It’s disgusting. Try again.”

I frown, a little taken aback. He’s never complained about his coffee before, well, except to say that it’s not hot enough. I get up and take it into the break room and make a fresh cup. I bring it back and put it down as he checks his emails.

“I have filing for you,” he says.

“Okay,” I answer and stand there for a second. “Is it here, or…?”

He glares at me. “Clearly it isn’t here,” he says to me. “It’s in the conference room.”

“Right. Got it.” The way he’s treating me is like a total flip from last night and it’s leaving me dizzy. “I’ll get right on it.”

“See that you do. Please take care of it in an hour. I have a meeting I need you to sit in on.”

I nod once and leave his office. I head into the conference room only to find two of his junior associates dumping huge files onto the table. One of them gives me an apologetic look.

“He told us not to help,” the guy says softly. “Sorry about that. Good luck.”

They leave without another word. I stand there and stare at the mountain of files.

There’s no fucking way I’ll get this done in an hour.

I almost storm back into his office. He’s fucking with me and he knows it. This is unreasonable, even for him. He’s deliberately setting me up to fail so he gets to chew me out.

Well, screw him. I’m not going to give in just because he wants to mess with me suddenly.

I get to work. I let the image of that smarmy, cocky jerk sitting in his office with a stupid grin on his face push me. I organize the files as best I can, going alphabetically, but it’s slow. Some names aren’t clear and some have multiple names attached. I make piles, sort them, resort them, and soon the hour is up and I’ve only gotten through half.

I hurry back to his office.

“Well?” he asks as I step inside. I know better than to linger on any task longer than allotted.

“I’m not finished,” I say, keeping my face as neutral as possible.

He frowns slightly. “Of course you’re not. Come on, sit down. I have a call.”

I clench my jaw but I sit, take out my notepad, and I get to work as the conference call connects.

I swear he’s doing this on purpose. He just wants to see me squirm. He thinks he owns me because he’s paying me more.

But he doesn’t own me, as much as he thinks he does.

This is all temporary. I put in my time with him, deal with all his bullshit, and move on. I don’t have to stay with him forever. Just long enough to get paid.

And then, freedom.

It’s hard not to think about that freedom, what I might do with it. But even that feels too abstract to really understand.

I mean, I’ve never had real freedom before. I’ve always been working and going to school or just working. My parents didn’t have a ton of money growing up so it wasn’t like I could ever afford to do anything but work my butt off.

This money could change my life. It could change everything.

I just have to put up with this arrogant asshole…

He finishes the conference call and looks at his computer. “Type up those notes and get back to filing. I want it done by the end of the day.”

I stand. “Yes, sir.”

He glances at me. “Get to work. And skip your lunch. I don’t think you’ll have time for it.”

I bristle at that but just nod sharply. I leave and head back to my desk, type up the notes, and disappear back into the conference room.

I don’t know how long I’m in there. Every time I want to quit, or my stomach rumbles, or I want to scream at how stupid and pointless this task is since these are probably all digitized anyway, I think about that money. And the look on his face when I show him that even his impossible tasks are still possible.

People pass by the conference room. A few even stop in to say hello. Not everyone that works for Leon is a total asshole, as it turns out. I actually like some of the people I work with.

But I don’t stop to chat. I don’t lift my head up.

I just file, one document after the next.

By the time it’s finished, I’m exhausted.

I didn’t know filing could be so physically demanding, but I’m actually sweating, just a little bit. I’m out of breath as I place the last stack of documents in their rightful place. I step back and survey my work, a little smile of accomplishment on my lips.