At First Sight

3.

"Okay everybody leave the room so that Miss Shaw and I can talk business."

Everyone left the room except her. I looked over at her in that fitted-ass pencil skirt that hugged her in all the right places. My mind went back to last night gripping that fat ass and placing kisses on her chocolate skin. Pulling her long hair and sucking on her dark nipples. Last night was a night to remember, a night I'd want to create, but I have to keep it professional, as she says.

"Have a seat Miss Shaw."

She sat in the chair next to me and I could smell her cinnamon scent. It was alluring, and it had my mouth watering, aching for a taste. I leaned back in my chair, trying to control myself.

"So, I loved your idea, but we have a program similar to that. Although not as comprehensive as yours. Are you willing to partner up and share your ideas?"

"I see no problem with that." She crossed her legs and my dick twitched. I bit back a groan.

"Okay, I'll give them your info and they'll contact you with a date for a meeting and we'll take it from there. I see no reason I wouldn't hire you."

Her face lit up. "I got the job?"

"Yes, you got the job." I couldn't help the smile that stretched across my face from seeing her excitement.

"Oh my god, thank you so much!"

"No. Thank you."

I got up to leave the room.

"Oh," I turned, " by the way, I have your panties from last night. In case you were looking for them."

I laughed at the shock on her face, leaving the room to rush to a meeting with the sponsors.

They've been bugging my ass about these programs that aren't making the required quota and threatening to pull out. I don't want to get rid of anyone. Some of those people have been with me since the beginning. They've helped me build this from the ground up.

I founded Hope as an outreach to the community, giving them exactly what the company name is. Hope. We reach in and give hope to those who need it by walking beside them and giving them the encouragement they need to pursue a better future. Some of our kids have gone on to ivy league colleges, excelling in honor programs at their school, and star athletes. Most of the adults we help get off drugs and quit their drinking problems. We've assisted with helping folks get back on their feet after a rough patch in life. The majority of people we've helped have amazing lives now. Some work for major companies and a few even own their own businesses.

If we don't help our people, who else will? But now it isn't just the black community we recently just reach into the white community. Also, the Latinx communities. Everyone deserves help.

When I first started this business I was 21, I did not know how big it would get. Now I'm almost 30 and I want it to keep growing and hopefully, it will.

I step into my office and saw Jasmine, my PA, waiting for me by my desk.

"Mr. Charles canceled the meeting and-"

"Daddy!" 

"Hi, my love."

I picked her up. Looking into those big brown eyes never fails to make my heart melt.

"She was waiting in here when I came," Jasmine stated. "I'll leave the paperwork for Mr. James and Mr. Philp is waiting for you to Skype him about the budget of the Save The Hero program." She said before she left.

I looked down at my little girl in my arms. "Why aren't you in school, missy?" I sat her down on the couch.

"Silly daddy, today is parent-teacher day. My teacher wants to see you so she can tell you about alllll the good work I'm doing."

Oh shit, I forgot about this. Why do kindergartners have parent-teacher conferences every fucking month? What more can they be doing instead of napping and coloring their ABCs?

"How did you get here?"

"Rosy dropped me off. She's downstairs talking to her 'boyfriend'." She giggled.

I chuckled. Rosy. The babysitter I should have fired a long time ago. But Hope, that's my daughter's name, urge me not to.

"She's so fun daddy," I recall her saying.

"Well, here play on daddy's phone while I go handle some business."

"Okay," she said gleefully.

I sat at my desk and shot a text to Rosy, asking her to take my place at the parent-teacher conference because I knew I would not make it. Closing the messaging app on my desktop, my eyes immediately went to the photo sitting on my desk, the only photo I have left of her. I touched the photo every day, sending her my love, hoping she can feel it where ever she is. It's been four years and still, the ache in my heart has not lessened. Every time I look at her big smile, it feels like someone has punched a hole through my heart. I miss her every day. I wish I could go back to that day when the doctors told me she didn't make it. I would do anything to have another day to see that smile, to hear her voice. But I don't resent the gift she left me. The piece of her she left behind. I look over at my daughter engrossed in a YouTube video and smiled. No, I wouldn't trade her for the world.

~~~~~

Around seven, I finished my workday. I glanced at Hope, knocked out on the couch. She played herself to sleep. That girl has so much energy. I don't know how I would make it without Rosy.

"Come on, sweetie let's go home." I gathered her from the sofa.

"Daddy," she mumbled.

"Mmm?"

"Can we get waffles?"

I chuckled, remembering how her mother would always crave waffles while she was pregnant with her. Waffles are Hope's favorite thing in the world.

"Sure sweetie," I said, clicking off the light and closing my office door.