A Daddy for Christmas 3: Luka (Daddy for Christmas 3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Bouncing down the hall of the offices he built by sheer will to accomplish one of his many dreams, Benson Carter smiled and gave a cheery wave to his assistant, Joyce Franz. “Joyce, how ya doin’?”

“I’m good, Ben, but Kurt isn’t. He’s stuck on that project you gave him and terrified you’re going to fire him.”

Benson’s chest hurt at the thought of that. “Have I not conveyed that I’m not one of those shit bosses?”

“Guess not. I told him just to talk to you, but he’s…apprehensive.”

She was a peach. Out of the hundreds that applied for the job, she’d been the only one to come in and shake his hand with the grit and determination that he was looking for.

You see, Benson was a pushover. Always the optimist, people person, and people-pleaser, he needed someone with an iron will and that steel-eyed presence that he, himself, could never have.

Known as the Ice Lady at her two previous gigs, she looked the part. Prematurely gray hair, cut short and pasted back like Bridgit Neilson in Beverly Hills Cop, blue/gray eyes to match her hair, and never a smile unless it was one of derision.

“Joyce…did you maybe put that fear into him?”

“He’s already two weeks late, Ben. If he’s any later, we’ll be late with the contract, and we take the chance of losing four hundred million dollars to start.

Overall, we could lose the company, and the billions of dollars this program could make for us.

I thought you wanted this company to succeed. ”

Well, that hit him in a much different place than the chest. That one hit him in the wallet. “Wow, that bad?”

“That bad. Get the grin off your face and go talk to him. I don’t care if you give him one of your patented pep talks, just end it with a threat of being fired and a black spot on his record, of which he won’t soon rid himself.”

She sat again and got back to her computer, effectively dismissing him.

It was like that every day. He always felt as if he worked for her instead of the other way around, but it was what he needed, after all.

After straightening his tie and forcing the constant smile from his face, Benson pushed the double doors of his office open to see a hunched-over man sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

The moment he stepped into the room, however, Kurt Dore stood, head bent, arms crossed over his chest. “Mr. Carter, hello, sir.”

“I said I didn’t want to be called sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

After a roll of his eyes, he went behind his mid-century modern desk in the room he’d had fashioned in the same style and sat, hands resting on the smooth surface of the teak wood. “Sit, please, Kurt.”

“Yes, sir.”

His lips twitched to smile. He was so used to it he didn’t know how to frown. Life was good, it was beautiful, and for all the downfalls he’d had, he’d clawed his way to success every time, because he never let gloom get to him.

The man in front of him, however, had gloom coming off him in waves, and Benson’s first impulse was to pick him up and help.

Joyce, however, would kill him.

“Kurt, I understand you are still behind on the project.”

“Yes, sir. I’m so sorry! It was a glitch in the programming, and my team and I, we’re working night and day to fix it.”

Swallowing the words, then you’re doing all you can, and that’s good enough for me, he cleared his throat of them and said, “That’s good, Kurt, but as you must know, not good enough.”

When he saw the tear falling down Kurt’s face, all his stern countenance left him and he took a tissue from the orange box on his desk, got up and went to him, setting one hand on his shoulder and handing him the tissue with the other. “Kurt, there’s no need of that.”

“Sir, two members of my team made viruses to check it. They both got through.”

“Your team are crack computer experts. They know coding better than people in the FBI and even the CIA, from whom I headhunted two of them. To make a virus that the program can’t kill…well…”

“The program should kill anything. Malware, Trojan horses, anything.”

“Yes, it should,” he said, remembering what they were building.

Most of the government and many other companies would do just about anything to get their hands on something impenetrable, and he had amassed the people to make it. It had been a decade-long hunt, but he’d finally assembled a team that could work magic.

With cyber threats from enemies, Benson felt it was not only his goal, but his duty to make something that would help other companies and the country.

“What is it going to take to get it done sooner?”

“Like I said, we’re working night and day, sir. If we had a few more coders, maybe we could do more shifts so my people could rest and then…”

He could be manipulated easily. People who saw only the good in others were susceptible to that. Joyce had told him a hundred times that if he felt like someone was doing it, they likely were, but she was also paranoid.

“Will three be enough? I still have the resumes of the people who came in second to all of you.”

Kurt lifted his face at last, and he actually smiled through his tears. “Sir, that’s very generous.”

“The bonuses will rise to five hundred thousand for each of your team and a million for you if you get this done by the end of next week.”

Kurt got up and groveled, “Sir…sir, this is…I can’t accept. I don’t want the bonus, as I haven’t earned it, but with the extra team members, we can get this done. I swear to you.”

Like anyone who did what he did, Kurt was a small guy, thin as hell and had the strangest hair, like a brown mop on his head, but he was sincere. Benson could see that.

“Thank you. Get to work, and the new team should be here soon.”

He watched Kurt leave the office on a much higher note than he’d entered, and as he suspected, the door didn’t fully close before Joyce was inside it. “What did you do?”

“I’m hiring three new members for the team.”

“Benson, that is a lot of paperwork, attorneys, NDAs, but…it’s necessary.”

Shocked, he laughed and asked, “You knew we needed them?”

“Yes, but he’d never ask. He’s on salary, and long hours, well…if they could have gotten it on their own, our bottom line looked better.”

Benson lost his smile immediately, and for once, the frown came naturally. “Joyce, that is not how I work, and you know that! Work/life balance is important to me.”

“And the finances are important to me.”

“Joyce, I know you have the best interests of the company in mind, but the people here mean more than the money. Don’t forget that again. If we need more employees, then we’ll get them. Do. You. Understand?”

She smiled sweetly. “That’s the boss we need around here. Yes, Benson, I will keep that in mind.”

She left, and he felt as if he’d been had. “That…woman. I think she was put on earth to make me crazy.”

The intercom came on, and it was Joyce, reminding him of their date. “Boss, we have those tickets to the play tonight.”

He stared out his window, which was actually the eastern wall of his office, and smiled again. “The play.” After pushing the intercom, he said, “Is my tan suit dry-cleaned?”

“No, I had your navy pin stripe done. The tan would clash with my dress.”

Of course. “Good thinking, Joyce. And before I forget, happy birthday.”

“Thanks, boss.”

He laughed, as he knew that when she called him boss, she was sucking up, but still in control.

The play was something they had both agreed on, and one of the few things. It was a new play, off-Broadway, but climbing the charts. The lead actor was one of the handsomest men Benson had ever seen, but his acting had reviewers falling over themselves to compliment him.

The rest of the cast was great too, at least from what he’d read online, and he had a friend that could get him backstage to meet them. The lead actor…it was rumored he was gay, though he wasn’t big enough to confirm or deny that, so he wanted to find out for himself.

After getting home to his high-rise, he found the suit laid out on his bed, and she’d gone so far as to tell his housekeeper which cufflinks and tie clip to wear. “Control freak much, Joyce?”

He showered in his steam shower with the four huge showerheads, and when he was in that shower, he remembered the tiny, rust-stained shower he’d had as a kid.

His mother, a single mother, had worked so hard, two or three jobs at a time, and his only job was to do well in school.

Being a computer genius, she didn’t want him to throw away his gifts to get minimum wage, after-school jobs to help with the bills.

His job was to work his ass off in school and get scholarships.

He did. Now, he was a moderately handsome guy with a fat bank account that was used in part to give his mother the luxury she’d never gotten in his youth.

In the mirror after his shower, he saw himself smiling.

No, he wasn’t conceited, but he was happy.

The long vanity held two sinks, and behind him was the enormous tub that made him feel tiny.

He’d bathe after harder days, and after a rough workout from his sadistic personal trainer.

Other than that, it sat empty and shining.

More muscled than he’d ever been didn’t mean he was heavily muscled.

Far from it. Like Kurt, he was a nerd, and he didn’t hate the title.

He wore it proudly. Benson Carter was a nerd, and he’d fought and studied hard to become that.

It meant, however, that he was on the thin side, and kept the small muscles he had by downing the chalky protein drinks his trainer recommended.

He had a very short, trimmed beard, flashing brown eyes and unblemished skin, unlike in his youth.

Benson could lament that he wasn’t bigger and buffer, that he was getting a little gray in said beard, but he didn’t.

As far as Benson was concerned, he’d earned the grays, and he’d eventually gain some weight, leading either to a happy paunch or a little bigger muscle.

After he dressed, Benson was staring in the mirror again, fully dressed, and his housekeeper came in after knocking to hand him a vodka tonic.

“Mister Benson, you look so nice,” she said, with her El Salvadoran accent much less pronounced.

Benson had sprung for lessons for her when she came to him in tears.

Some people were less than friendly toward anyone with a heavy accent.

“Thank you, Lupe, but I didn’t pick a thing.”

“Miss Joyce is…a, you know, ball buster?”

“To put it mildly.”

They laughed together, and she nodded to the drink in his hand. “Drink that and have a good time, yes?”

“Yes, thank you. You are off duty.”

“Not until I clean that shower. Ay Dios mio, you are a mess.”

“That I truly am, which is why I need you so badly. If you ever leave me for another employer, I’d be lost.”

“Then a raise soon, huh?”

“I should learn to keep quiet,” he said with a laugh.

The car met him in front of the building, and he got in to find Joyce there, dressed in a beautiful, navy cocktail dress with her gold chain and bracelet perfectly matching his cufflinks and tie clip.

“You look nice, but you could have trimmed your beard again.”

“I’m having a night of fun. Shaving and trimming are not fun.”

“This isn’t fun. This is connecting to others of your stature.”

Rolling his eyes, he whispered, “Joyce, not everything is for that. Sometimes, I just want to have fun.”

She tittered a laugh and accused, “You’re after that leading man.”

“I sure am, and I’m bringing out my best lines, if I figure out that he’s gay.”

“I’ve heard both, so maybe he’s bisexual. Regardless, don’t forget, some very important people are going to be there tonight, and I will make you speak with them.”

“Yes, Joyce.”

There was a short line that they skirted past easily, the men at the front practically falling over themselves to let him and Joyce into the theater.

“You called ahead and told them I was coming,” he murmured to Joyce.

“Duh. Would you rather wait in line?”

They were served wine that hadn’t aged a year and tasted canapes that weren’t as bad tasting as they looked. Still, nothing could get him down that night. Not a chance. The rare nights out for fun, even if Joyce always made him work during most of those, were precious.

The play was a dark comedy set in the nineteen twenties. That time period held a fascination for Benson he could not shake. The speak-easies, the flappers, the men in the suits with the fedoras tipped just to the side…beautiful.

Seated in the front center row, he had a perfect view, and when the cast began the play, Benson’s eyes couldn’t get enough of the leading man.

At least until he saw someone else on that stage, someone that outshined the leading man, who was tall, blond, and so very beautiful, any time he was on the stage, Benson didn’t see the rest.

His eyes locked onto the man, watching his every move, listening to his every line just to hear the gentle rolling cadence of his voice. The way his one brow rose when he was making a joke, or the way his eyes narrowed as he waited for the response.

Joyce twice tried to get his attention, but Benson ignored her as he sat captive to the actor. When the play ended, he was the first one to his feet as the cast lined up in front of the red curtain to take a bow, and others followed suit.

When it was over and everyone filed down the aisles to leave the auditorium, Joyce moved her arm into Benson’s and they moved to the lobby, where drinks were served. The actors soon came from backstage to more roaring applause.

“What was that about?” Joyce asked him. “You looked like you were riveted to the play, and it was good, sure, but that good?”

“Not the play, Joyce. Not the play,” he said as he saw the actor milling around in the crowd, though he wasn’t really speaking to anyone.

“Him? I thought you liked the lead! The director is bringing him over for an introduction.”

“Have a nice time,” he said distractedly. He took his program from the inner pocket of his suit coat and quickly found the actor’s name.

Luka Mann.

Suddenly nervous, he watched Luka for a while, saw the steely eyes, the way his jaw popped as he clenched it, and wondered why, after such a wonderful performance, he didn’t seem happy.

Approaching him, Benson felt like a teenager speaking to his crush for the first time. The words wouldn’t come, the palms were sweaty, and he felt like he’d shake apart.

That was all fine, however, as he had waited too long, it seemed. Luka turned on his heel and hurried out of the lobby, out the front doors, and was gone like a flame in a breeze.

Joyce sidled up beside him and whispered, “Oh. It was that one. Well, want to meet the lead you were so enchanted by earlier?”

“Sure. I want to find out about Mr. Mann.”