My Baby's Billionaire Father

Grayson "Mr Hale, please don't tell me you're still in bed." Bridget's voice filtered in through the phone. I groan. "Morning to you too." "It's not morning anymore. Have you checked your time?" "I didn't realize I hired a babysitter." "I wouldn't have to be a babysitter if you actually came on time. Anyway, your suit for the gala has been delivered to your townhouse." I sighed. "Perfect. Anything else?" "Yes, about thousands of them. But I'll save you the details until you're actually at your desk." "Thank you, Bridget." I hung up. It was already 12noon. I usually don't sleep throughout the morning but I went to bed late last night. All thanks to a 'she' that I just couldn't get out of my head. Coffee seemed to fire up my head for the day, and after two cups I was ready for whatever I had to do. I pushed open the door and stepped into the nearly finished building, the faint smell of paint still lingered mixed with sawdust. The sunlight poured in through the wide glass panels, hitting the steel beams exactly how I had envisioned when I drew the first sketch. I paused and swept my gaze across the space. Three-story building. Open sightlines. Rich colors, exactly how I had imagined. A rare smile crept on my lips. Most people saw buildings as mere walls and roofs, but to me, they were much more. And this office... This was one of my best creations yet. "Mr Hale?" "Bridget." "Did you receive your suit before you left the townhouse?" "I did." "Okay, that's good. And don't forget the gala is tomorrow." "I know that." "Perfect. Your ride will be at your penthouse by 07:00pm." I nodded and stepped into my office, shutting the door before she could say anything else. After a few hours of working on a client's design for a hotel building, I leaned back in my seat. The door swings open without a knock. Adrian strolls in, holding two coffees. "You look like hell. Want the strong one or the extra strong?" "Would actually prefer a brandy, but whichever makes you shut up first." He smirked and dropped the coffee on the desk. "You're staring at those plans like they slept with your girlfriend." "They might as well have." "Why do I have a feeling this is less about work and more about the gala?" "It's business" I flatly replied. "Right. And I drink coffee for the vitamins." He leans closer. "You're not fooling me, Grayson. I know this is about her." I sighed. "Just drop it." "You sure? You seemed to be very bothered. Do you think she'll show?" "Maybe. I don't know. I'm not the host." "But what if she does?" "If she does, I'll be ready." "You're not planning to go meet her right?" "I don't think I could hold myself back." He threw his head back in laughter. "You still love this girl don't you. It's been what four years?" "Five." "Oh, you've been keeping tabs." I rolled my eyes. "Can we change the subject? Do you have a new manager yet? "Yeah. And she has good work experience." I raised a brow. "She?" "Yeah." "Thought you said you worked better with male managers." "I know. But she was the most qualified and I just couldn't resist hiring her." "Oh well, hope that turns out well." "I hope so too. So are you done here?" "Yeah, I think." "And... Oh, I got my invite for the gala." "I knew you were going to be invited, they need all the money they can get." "Yeah, and that way I can also keep an eye out for you." "Everyone seems to act like my babysitter these days." Adrian's lip twitched. "Maybe you should actually get one," he replied, an annoying smile on his face. "Haha, very funny." "I should get going, still have to try out some outfits for the event." I gave a half smile. "Bridget already has mine settled, maybe you should get a PA." "Don't think so. They tend to get too attached and forget it's just a job." "If you say so." He stood up. "So see you at the gala then." "Right." He leaves, and just then my phone buzzes. I had no intention of answering until I saw the international number flash across the screen. Thailand. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Mother." "Darling," her sharp voice filtered in through the phone, warm but distant like it always was. "I thought I'd catch you before your day ended." "It hasn't," I replied, glancing at the blueprint still displayed on my screen. "I'm at a retreat in Chiang Mai and I just thought about you." My throat tightened. "Okay. Am I supposed to thank you for that?" A pause. "You sound tired." "I'm busy," I corrected. "Work keeps me... Busy." Her silence stretched. Then she replied gently, "It also keeps you alone, Grayson." I couldn't think of a response. "Don't become your father." I closed my eyes, the words hitting harder than I wanted them to. By the time I opened them, she'd already hung up. The silence in the office seemed louder than before. Bridget's heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she stepped into my office, a tablet tucked under her arm. "I thought your work hours were done," I remarked without looking up from my sketches. "Yeah, but I was busy vetting the people you keep insisting we need," she shot back smoothly, sliding the tablet in front of me. "What do you got?" "So these are the potential hires. Junior project managers and other admin staff. If you want this branch to run without eating you alive, you're going to have to trust someone other than me." I leaned back and scanned the profiles. "Half of them look like they've never set foot on a construction site." "They have degrees, references, and the right qualifications. I think that's good enough." "Fine," I said at last, dragging a hand through my hair. "Set up interviews. And make sure they understand what they're signing up for." "Will do." "Anything else?" "That's all, and also try and get some rest. You need to look the part at the gala tomorrow." "Yes ma'am," I replied sarcastically. "Goodnight boss," she turned to leave. "And have a great time at the gala." The door closed with a soft click. The townhouse was quiet when I got home, too quiet. I loosened my tie and moved through the wide polished rooms. The space was perfect, finished in sleek pieces and grey tones, like a model home no one actually lived in. I poured two fingers of scotch, carried it to the window, and stared at Newport's dark skyline. I'd built this, steel, glass, power. And yet the silence pressed in, heavier than concrete. Warmth was something I never thought I needed, but sometimes late at night, I wonder how it would feel to have someone else's laughter echo through these halls. And just one person came to mind. 'No, I wouldn't put myself through the torture for another night.' I thought to myself. I set the glass down after downing the contents in two large gulps. The burn in my chest couldn't compare to the fire in my thoughts. And tomorrow, I'd have to face her.