Page 4 of Daddy's Firm Hand

"Goodnight, Candy," David said, the ghost of a smile touching his lips as he opened the door for me. “I hope to see more of you soon.”

"Goodnight, Mr. Peters," I replied, stepping out into the emptying office. The world outside his door seemed suddenly vast and unfamiliar.

Something had changed.

But this was only the start of something much stranger and more exciting than I ever would have guessed.

Chapter 2

Ihurried out ofDavid's office, his enigmatic words echoing in my mind. The once bustling room had settled into an early evening lull, with only a few straggling employees gathering their things to leave.

No one was looking, so I grabbed Geoffrey and stuffed him into my bag, before heading out.

My heels clicked against the polished floor as I made my way to the elevator. I jabbed the down button and waited, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

What had David meant by "unusual discipline"? He’d looked at me with such intensity, like he was staring right into my soul.

The elevator arrived with a soft ding. I stepped inside the empty car and pressed the button for the parking garage. As the doors slid closed, I caught my reflection in the mirrored walls - chestnut hair coming loose from its updo, a bright bow slightly askew, Geoffrey's fuzzy grey ear peeking out of my bag. I looked younger than my 28 years, almost childlike.

Alone with my racing thoughts, I pulled Geoffrey out and gave him a squeeze. "What do you think he meant, Geoff?" Iwhispered. The stuffed elephant gazed back at me with his dark button eyes, ever the loyal confidante, but offered no answers. The elevator descended, my stomach fluttering with it.

Lost in my circling thoughts, I barely remembered the drive home. I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex just as the last sliver of sun dipped below the horizon. Stars began to twinkle in the purpling sky. Collecting Geoffrey and my bag, I headed inside.

Within the safety of my apartment, I shed my work persona like an ill-fitting coat. I changed into my softest sweatpants and a well-worn t-shirt, throwing my hair into a messy bun. The smell of chamomile tea wafted from the kitchen as the kettle came to a boil.

"C'mon Geoff, let's get cozy," I said, scooping up the plush elephant and my steaming mug. We settled onto the overstuffed couch, me tucking my feet up under me and Geoffrey nestled in my lap. Colorful throw pillows surrounded us and a crocheted blanket, made by my Grandma, lay folded over the back of the sofa.

I sipped the soothing tea and absently stroked Geoffrey's soft fur, my gaze traveling around my small but homey living room. Whimsical art prints hung on the walls, embroidery hoops with uplifting quotes scattered between them. A half-finished paint-by-number of a garden scene sat on the coffee table. Little pieces of the real me, the side I usually kept tucked away.

Cuddling Geoffrey closer, I let my mind drift back to David's office, to his deep voice and steady gaze. "Why me?" I whispered to the quiet room. "Why would he take an interest in mentoring me?"

I thought about the way I fumbled sometimes at work, always a beat behind everyone else. The times my youthful outfits earned disapproving looks. Did David think I wasn't cut out for the corporate world? That I needed a firm hand to guide me?

How was I meant to decide, when I knew so little about what he had in mind?

So I did what I always did when I needed advice. I called Molly.

She was one of my oldest friends, and one of the only people I could confide in. She had always been there for me, her unwavering presence a beacon of support and guidance in my life.

I dialed Molly's number—which was the only one I knew by heart—and listened to the familiar ring of the call connecting. After just a few moments, her cheerful voice filled my ear. "Hey, Candy! What a lovely surprise. How are you?"

"Hey, Molly." My words caught in my throat, hesitant and unsure. "Something happened at work today, and I could really use your perspective."

"Of course! I'm here for you, girl. You know that." The sound of rustling fabric in the background suggested she was settling in for our conversation, probably curling up on her couch with her favorite throw blanket.

I took another steadying breath before launching into the story, recounting the spilled coffee incident and David's cryptic proposition. As I spoke, I could hear the concern in Molly's voice, her questions probing but supportive.

"That's . . . unexpected," Molly said thoughtfully after I finished explaining. “This is the guy with all the rumors?”

“Yeah,” I said, biting my lip.

There werelotsof rumors about David. Rumors that he had strange tastes and unusual impulses. There was even a rumor about some kind of sex dungeon, somewhere inside the huge office block. It was probably nonsense—people like to talk shit about their managers, especially when they didn’t talk much and were insanely successful.

"Interesting. So, what do you think he meant?"

"I honestly have no idea," I admitted, feeling vulnerable as I shared my confusion. "He said it would involve new guidelines and personal supervision, but it felt so . . . intimate. Like he knows something about me that even I don't understand."

"Wow." There was a pause as Molly absorbed the information, her mind no doubt racing with possibilities. “You must be going nuts!”

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