The Maybe Daddy

1. Twenty Nine Months ago....

This story is dedicated to one of my best friends, Sandie Smith. She was on hand for advice during this story, as she always is.

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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

2013 Copyright. All Rights Reserved.

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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.