The Maybe Daddy

............................................................................................................................................................... All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. 2013 Copyright. All Rights Reserved. ................................................................................................................................................................ Affie Le Verne was bad news, in a way that only a sister or a best friend could be. Although they shared no genetic material, Mandy Romer would always consider her a sister. The best friend part was a given, they'd grown up together, gone to the same schools and experienced the awkward growing pains between being a girl and becoming a woman. Affie had one major fault, though. She was a party girl, and although Mandy loved getting dressed up and dancing, Affie lived for her nights out. Tonight was a big night. That meant only one thing. Manicures, short skirts, sky high heels. ...and shots. Mandy had been given her dream job, working for 'Live It' magazine, a fairly new but highly successful lifestyle magazine. All those articles written for her college newspaper, and then the gig writing a blog for new innovative furniture had paid off. She had it all at 27 years old. The magazine even paid for her to live close to work, in the heart of New York City. A penthouse apartment, no less. Affie, a very much in demand orthodontist, had her dream come true too. Her own practice, and now her best friend was working within walking distance of her own business. As soon as they got the flyer for the new club 'Risk', Affie did what Affie always did. Research. She knew all the high flying businessmen in the city, and she knew how to get to them. It was an art, and Affie was a socialites dream. She came from a rich cultural background. Her mother Azar, was Persian and the snappiest dresser that Mandy knew. Her father Richard, was African American, and a property tycoon. They only had one daughter, and showered her with not only endless affection, but money too. Before she was ten years old, she had a walk in wardrobe filled with designer bags worth more than most people's mortgages. In spite of this, she was down to Earth, pragmatic, and hilariously funny. Mandy's own upbringing was far from lower class, but paled in comparison to her friends lifestyle. Her father had been a well respected surgeon, her mother inherited a vast sum of money from her father, who had owned several ranches in the South. Their home was vast and palatial, but she did not share the same bond with her parents as Affie did with hers. Her mother was a social butterfly, her life an endless stream of benefits and art gallery openings. She had very little time in her diary for her younger daughter. Mandy's older sister, Sarah, was the perfect reflection of their mother. She married an oil tycoon, one Angelo De Monteford, and they moved into a home that Buckingham Palace would have looked miniscule next to. They lived the typical high class Hamptons life. Mandy inherited her father's drive, and a love of style and sophistication from Affie's mother Azar. In spite of her parents joint protest, she had studied at The Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, and excelled beyond her other classmates. Interior design was her one true love, and she had read 'Live It' since the first publication three years ago. It was fast becoming the 'go to guide' for designers, the 'Vogue' of the interior design world. This job was life changing, and the benefits were beyond her wildest dreams. She'd be travelling the world, attending some amazing parties with chances to network with fellow designers, and she was given the keys to an incredible apartment. Affie was right. Tonight was a night of new beginnings. Two weeks before, Mandy had caught her boyfriend Aaron, of two years, on a date with an unknown busty blonde. She had been out buying him steak for his birthday, and looked in on him eating the face off the wannabe playboy bunny. After throwing his clothes out into the street, and burning his photographs, Affie had taken her under her wing. Love and relationships were for girls with no aspirations. Amazing nights out on the town, and getting to date a new guy every night kept a girl young. It kept her vibrant. It kept her interesting. It was a Friday night, and Affie already had eyes on two men. The first was a music producer, Ethan Hughes, and the second was an up and coming young actor, Ryan Thompson. Mandy laughed as Affie picked the men apart. 'So' she said, downing a red snapper. 'Ethan's nose is a little......long.' Mandy shook her head, hiding behind her long straight blonde hair. 'I'm not playing this game Aff. Poor guys!' Affie elbowed her and jutted out her bottom lip. 'Aw come on Mands, I wanna meet a guy who can give me a really good time' she winked suggestively. 'You know, a mister right now, like Ryan, look at those pants they hardly contain him.' Mandy choked on her shot, laughing so hard her stomach hurt. 'You know what you are Affie Le Verne?' Affie shrugged playfully. 'I'm a slut, I know it, and I love it. You're only young once baby girl. May as well sample as many different guys as I can before my looks fail.' Mandy looked at her friend. Long thick dark lashes, framing dark doe eyes. A beautiful olive tan to her skin, a result of her mixed heritage and something Mandy envied most. Silky dark brown hair that hung close to her waist, and was always expertly styled and hung in loose curls, and a figure that made Sophia Loren jealous. 'Affie your looks will never fade. You're wonder woman, I'd give my right arm for boobs like yours.' Affie leaned close to her friend. 'Daddy has a friend, you can have yours done all you have to do is ask!' At midnight, Mandy froze on the dancefloor, sobering ever so slightly. The attractive blond lawyer she had been dancing with had been as dim and uninteresting. He'd talked about his bar exam and his love of wine, and barely let her get a word in. As he had left to buy her a drink, she spotted Aaron with the blonde. Feeling exposed, she searched for Affie, but she was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't unusual for her to go missing, she would be necking some guy in a booth somewhere and as if on cue, she got the text. Affie had scored, and Mandy was on her own. Being independent, and used to her own company, and as bubbly as she was, Mandy was never phased by Affie ditching her. She knew that if she'd met a guy, she would be expected to do the same. This was the way of the scene, it was a jungle, every woman for herself, intent on bagging herself an eligible guy, for the night or for longer. Right now, every guy on the dance floor was attached, and feeling light headed and woozy, she decided to follow the lawyer. She thought his name might be Elliot, but he talked so much she instantly forgot their introductions. Finding him leaning against the bar, she downed two Alabama Slammers. She knew she was close to being completely inebriated, but Aaron's presence made her nervous. Much to her chagrin, based on the ground work she had put in with the dull Mr Lawyer, he was now chatting to a brunette and she decided to take her leave. There had to be an exit somewhere. As she stumbled through hoards of dancers, and guys scoping out the talent, she slammed straight into the hard chest of a stranger. As drunk as she was, she caught sight of Aaron out of the corner of her eye. He was kissing the blonde, his hands on those ridiculously balloon like boobs. Instinctually, Mandy pulled the stranger in for a kiss. He tried to prise her away at first, but then she found his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. As the music changed, a fast uptempo RnB song came on, and she felt herself dancing against the man who had inadvertently saved her from her ex. After 1am, they left together. 'You slept with a stranger!' Affie squealed, the next day. She lay on her bed, painting her nails a deep shade of purple. 'Oh I am so proud, my little girl in growing up!' Mandy rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling of her friends bedroom. 'I don't remember anything about him. I don't remember his name, his job, I don't even remember what he looked like!' Affie grinned. 'That's the best way! Men are too much hassle, it's better that we get the good stuff and then not have to deal with the lies and the toilet seat thing, and their inability to commit emotionally.' Mandy shrugged, her friend had a point. 'All I can remember is this....tattoo he had on his hand. Like the sun, with some Arabic word written in it.' 'He was an Arab?' 'I don't know....maybe?' Affie sat up, and placed a hand over her heart. 'I can't believe you did that. I guarantee Aaron was green with envy, bet he's woken up today next to Miss Balloon Boobs thinking he's lost the best thing he ever had.' Mandy played with a strand of her hair. 'You are such a bad influence on me, Miss Le Verne.' Six Weeks Later. Mandy couldn't concentrate. The cursor on the computer screen blinked at her, impatiently. Her boss, the infamous Allegra Cascarino poked her head into her office. 'Doll I need that article on my desk by the end of today, get your ass in gear.' She left as quickly as she had presented herself, and Mandy let her head fall onto her desk. 'I don't need this s**t' she fumed, popping a tic tac into her mouth and breathing deeply. She looked at the calendar, and bile crept up the back of her throat. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. He had worn protection, hadn't he? She cursed herself, she couldn't remember enough to even build a faint picture of him in her head. Only the tattoo. She found herself drawing it on her notepad. Unable to force her shaking hands to stop, she stood up, and walked to her office window. The view from here was one that so many would covet their whole lives. This job was one thousands of would be designers, would be hungry for. This was not happening. As she steadied herself against the window ledge, she heard Affie enter. How could it be lunch time already? The grumble suddenly started in her stomach, and she turned to see her friend saunter in, dressed impeccably in an emerald green wrap dress, perfect for the unseasonably warm spring weather. 'I thought we'd try the Chinese place sweetie, you know, where that guy works? The hot read head who wears the bandana? His hands are....' 'Affie I think I'm pregnant.' Her friends mouth hung open. She blinked, shook her head a little, not quite understanding what Mandy was saying. 'You think you're what?' 'I'm late' she walked back to the calendar, and picked it up. She had ringed around the first day of her last period, and it confirmed she was two weeks late. 'It's the job' Affie said, firmly. 'Stress, you know moving, starting a new job, those kinds of things delay periods. You've only been here a few weeks, you have deadlines. You just wait and see, you'll come on your period right around this Friday, when we're at my Dad's birthday party. It always happens that way.' Calmed by her friends words, they went to lunch, and back at the office Mandy completed her assignment. Her nerves were settled, and she cursed herself for being so paranoid. Four Days later..... The party for Affie's dad had been exhausting. All of her cousins and second cousins had insisted on a bar crawl, and Mandy didn't get back to the apartment till gone 4am. Her eyes burned with tiredness, and although she hadn't drunk a thing, she felt light headed and sick. Tossing and turning in bed, she felt the overwhelming need to be sick and spent the night laid by the toilet bowl. She went over what she had eaten the last few days, and mentally composed a letter of complaint to the Chinese restaurant, hot waiter, or no hot waiter. That or the little Italian place by the office. At 11am, she felt no better. Walking into the kitchen, a waft of scents hit her. It was if she could smell the food that had gone down the waste disposal, the refrigerator reeked of food far past it's dates, and she rushed to the toilet again. Something wasn't right. As she heaved, her stomach devoid of food, she left her apartment. There was a grocery store next to her building, and she needed to put her fears to rest. Grabbing the pregnancy test, she felt as if all eyes were on her. Her cheeks burning brightly, sure the other customers were judging her, and knew of her one night stand, she rushed to the cashier. She forgot her receipt and didn't acknowledge the older lady wishing her a good day, as she sprinted back to her apartment. Breathless, and feeling nauseaous, she swung open the bathroom door, and sat down on the toilet. As she peed on the stick, she phoned Affie. A sleepy sounded Affie answered. 'What time dya call this Mands?' she said playfully. 'I've got a test. I'm real sick so I'm doing it right now.' There was silence on the line. 'Hang on, I'm on my way over.'