Big Bad Daddy: A Single Dad and the Nanny Romance

Octavia was surprised. She'd thought he would be angry and afraid of what it might do to his future. “Are you sure you're okay with it?”


“Okay? That's a useless word to use under these circumstances. If I weren't thousands of miles away, I'd crack open a bottle of champagne. Oh, Octavia, this is fantastic news.”

“I'm amazed you are so happy. I thought you would be angry and worried about the future.”

“Why? There is nothing I want more than to have you as the mother of my children. You will be a perfect mother. Just one thing, though. We should keep it secret from my father.”

“Okay, but what are we going to do? I'm the president's daughter; I can't be pregnant and unmarried. It simply isn't an option.”

“Sod it. You're not happy at Harvard, and I'm not happy in Moscow without you. I have dreamed about doing this with you. Let's take my boat and sail away. I have more money than we'll ever be able to use in our lives and a great place to live: my yacht. You can write books while I sail us around. I can design yachts and sell the designs via the web. What do you say?”

Slava looked at his computer screen as Octavia fell silent. After two minutes, she responded. “There will be hell to pay. If I elope with you, my father will be crucified by the press, and he will suffer in the opinion polls. He will send the FBI and lord only knows who else to find me.”

“Octavia, you are a grown woman living in a free world. Nobody can drag you back to the US against your will. We won't be committing a crime. It's not eighteen hundred.”

*****

“Yes, what is it?” the ambassador barked as a small fat man entered his office. The ambassador's office was not as large as he believed his position deserved. His desk was covered in photos of him in various posts he'd been sent to over the years, and there was a Russian flag standing on a pole to the right of his desk.

“Ambassador, it's your son. I have just received notice from the State Security Service that he was seen leaving St. Petersburg in his boat two days ago.”

“Where was he going?”

“Nobody knows.”

“And I suppose the buffoons don't know where he is now, either?”

“That is correct, sir. There is one more piece of information. He was with a woman.”

“What woman? He doesn't have a girlfriend as far as I know. He's too busy trying to finish his studies.”

“The girl's name is Octavia Wahlberg.”

“What? That black girl that calls herself the president's daughter?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get me General Toporov, now.”

The man nodded and left the office. Five minutes later the ambassador's phone rang. It was General Vladimir Toporov, head of the Russian State Security Service.

“You wanted to speak to me, Ambassador?”

“Yes, General. I want you to find my son and bring him back to finish his studies, and then I want you to deal with the woman he has seemingly gone off with. Eliminate her if you have to. Do you understand? There is no way my son will marry an American, let alone a black American. I don't want her having his children. She behaves like a prostitute. I hate prostitutes; they are dirty. “

“Ambassador, the woman to whom you refer is the president's daughter. We can't do anything about her and your son being together. It's a free world, and they are both consenting adults.”

“Have you forgotten what happened in Moscow in 1991? If you have, then perhaps I should get it put in the newspapers so everybody can read what an unpleasant character you are. Don't you remember those poor girls? They were just innocent students having a good time. Once you'd finished raping them, they couldn't walk anymore. Now, what do you say to my request?”

“I will do what I can,” the general said.

When his phone rang again, the ambassador swore. This time it was the president, Daniel Wahlberg.

“Ambassador, my daughter has given her security agent the slip and has been picked up by your son in a boat in Tallinn, Estonia. I will hold you personally responsible for anything that happens to her. I want you to contact your son and tell him to let her come home. She has her studies to think of.”

“Mr. President, I have no contact with my son. At the moment I have no idea where he is.” The ambassador sighed as if he were already bored with the news. “No doubt your daughter has led him astray. Much has been written about her, and not much of it good. She likes to—how shall I say it—put herself about a bit.”

“If you are suggesting my daughter had anything to do with this, you are sorely mistaken. Now get her back here or I will call your president and have you sent back to Moscow.”

“Mr. President, nobody threatens me, even the so-called most powerful man in the world. Be careful what you say. As I understand it, your daughter is in a very vulnerable situation at the moment.”

*****

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