“Are we going all the way to the rooftop, Mommy?” she asked as she clung just a little bit tighter to her hand. She sidled closer and pressed against her mother’s hip.
Meg chuckled. “Almost. We’re going to the penthouse floor.” She tousled her daughter’s hair. “Don’t worry. We’re almost there.”
She nodded her curly blonde head but the way she clung to her dolly told Meg she still wasn’t comfortable. When the elevator door opened she popped out even before her mother could take a step.
“I got out first. I beat you, Mommy.”
“Yes, you did. You’re the winner.”
Before Jessie could give her usual celebratory yell, Meg caught up with her and put a finger to her lips. “Now we’re going to be really quiet when we go into the office, aren’t we? Quiet as a mouse. Can we do that?”
Jessie lifted her little shoulders then nodded. “Yes, Mommy,” she said in a staged whisper. “Quiet as a mouse.”
The receptionist greeted them warmly and took them to Drake’s office. Jessie, eyes huge with wonder at the strange new sights, stopped in the middle of the doorway and refused to take another step.
“Come on, Jessie.” Meg took her hand and tried to urge her forward but she would not budge.
“So, is this the little princess who's come to entertain me?”
Meg looked up and there was Drake, all smiles, looking for all the world like a doting dad smiling down at his beloved daughter. There was not an ounce of guile about him. His smile was genuine and she found herself smiling back, grateful that he was making the effort to put her child at ease.
Jessie stepped closer to her mother as she stared shyly at Drake. “I’m not a princess,” she said. “I’m a little girl.”
Drake paused and cocked his head to one side. “Are you sure you’re not a princess?”
Jessie shook her head.
“Well, you look like a princess to me,” Drake said, then he crouched down so the little girl could look him in the eyes. “And do you know what little princesses get?”
Her eyes big and blue, Jessie shook her head again.
“Lots of tickles.” Before she could move, Drake reached out to tickle her cheek then her arm and soon she was laughing out loud. When she stopped laughing she was all smiles. Gone were the shyness and the hesitation. She looked ready to play.
Meg shook her head. “I’m not sure those tickles were a good idea,” she said, smiling. “Now she’s going to stick to you like glue.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, looking totally unconcerned. “My nephew is only three so I’m used to having a little one around.”
Meg watched as he took Jessie’s hand and led her over to a small table on which were laid out several sheets of paper and colored pencils. He lifted the child onto the seat then stepped back. “There you go. An art studio of your own. Now let me see what you can create.”
It was so weird, watching this mega-powerful business executive, a billionaire no less, catering to the needs of her child. Who would have thought he would be so caring, so thoughtful as to go out of his way to make Jessie feel comfortable? This was the total opposite of how she’d seen him.
Could she have been wrong about him? He was nice now but...no, she didn’t think so. He was probably super nice to kids but when it came to women that was a whole other story. But she wouldn’t let that concern her now. She had work to do.
While Jessie drew flowers and turtles and princesses in castles, Meg and Drake tackled the first phase of the project. Through a list of interview questions designed to elicit the key elements of Drake’s story she was able to record the first pages in his journey toward domination of the investment arena. For Meg it was a real eye-opener.
She learned that Drake hadn’t started out poor. He was from a wealthy family with generations of experience in investing and creating wealth. As a child he’d picked up tips and investment strategies right there at the family dinner table. But once he left college and started his own business his fortunes galloped past anything he or his family had ever dreamed of. He’d made a series of smart moves which placed him solidly in the category of billionaire.
After about an hour of it, Meg went over to check on Jessie. “Are you okay, sweetie? Do you need anything?”
Jessie shrugged then shook her head, seeming totally absorbed in her current masterpiece, a drawing of a woman, a little girl and a man. He was tall, and she'd colored his hair yellow. He was holding the woman’s hand. For a moment Meg stared at the picture, almost afraid to ask. But then in the end she didn’t have to.
“This is the daddy I want,” Jessie said in a voice as clear as crystal. If Meg had wanted to be discreet about the drawing those hopes were dashed immediately. Jessie pointed to the stick figure of the man. “Mommy, when are you going to get me a daddy? Can I get one for Christmas?”
Meg’s eyes widened and she had to fight not to slap her hand over Jessie’s mouth. It was a conversation they’d had many times but why here, why now? Oh, Jessie, please. Not when Drake Duncan is hearing every word.
“Uhm, we’ll talk about that another time, Jess. You must be thirsty. Let’s run downstairs and get your lunch kit.” Meg started to bustle the child out of the chair but she pulled away.
“No, I want to finish my picture.” Jessie’s tone was adamant which meant she wasn’t planning on moving any time soon. Not without a fight.
“There’s a cafeteria on the first floor.” Drake’s voice broke into their mini-struggle. He was standing there watching them, the slight curl of his lips making his amusement obvious. “You can get her a juice or a snack. Anything she wants.”
“Oh,” she said, wondering why he was being so helpful. “Thank you. Come on, Jessie.”
“No, Mommy, I want to stay. Can I stay, please?” Jessie turned on her whining voice and screwed up her face as if she was close to tears.
Meg knew that strategy well, one that Jessie used to garner the sympathy of onlookers. The little girl was a master at getting others on her side then they’d gang up on Meg to get her to give in to her daughter’s wishes.