Hey, success is stressful. Which is why we offer peace of mind and a fully integrated remote parenting experience.
Ah, nothing like technology-enhanced neglect.
Not that I’m judging parents. I don’t even have kids. But I went to an Ivy League business school and did my research. After an entire two weeks—brutal!—of rigorous online hashtag searches and following every single-parent influencer under the sun, I came to the conclusion that the market was wide open for a one-stop-shop, fully cloud-integrated, child-management system geared toward working single parents.
Duh, right?
Because everyone knows that marriage is so last century. Co-parenting is more the norm. Blah. Where’s the independence in that? Personally, my social compass is pointed toward a mass migration to a single-parenting model. Total freedom from the heavy. No pressure to appease a partner as to how a child should be raised.
The parent of the future wants value, quality, and prestige. They want assurances that their children are safe, but also carbon neutral. They want the Tesla of daycare. And I’m here to deliver. Green Babies Daycare.
God, that sounds so good when I rehearse it in my head. I really have my sales pitch down.
“So what’s our next step?” Quincy asks. She’s one of three co-investor buddies who moved to Portland with me. We figured it was the ideal place to test out our business model. We have two other active investors in Seattle, the site of our second location. We are all single. No interest in marriage. Because…who needs men? Am I right? They’re just dicks with half a woman’s brain.
Kidding. They have a quarter.
But don’t get me wrong; we women definitely need men. Just not for marriage or to father our kids. Sperm banks were made for a purpose.
Can I get an amen?
Because personally, I want to control the when, where, and how I have a baby. I want a complete genetic workup of DNA, too, when the time comes. Until then, my only interest in the opposite sex is for the orgasms.
’Cause nothin’ like a hot cock to release the tension after a long week of building a billion-dollar empire to serve the masses who hate the idea of family as much as I do. It only holds you back.
That’s right, Dean. And I’m pressure cooking right now. Can’t wait to test you out.
“The next step?” I smile and sip on my cocktail. Dean’s already taken the bait. Once he brings his baby to our daycare, we can use that to create some online buzz. Hot Daddy Dean is our newest client. But we don’t plan to stop there. “Now we make Dean the spokesperson offer, as discussed. In fact, I think I might stop by his place tonight so I can introduce myself and make the offer in person.” And by that, I mean I want to fuck him. Honestly, I don’t know what I like more. His tall, ripped body or his face. There’s just something about the sensual shape of his lips that turns me on.
“Should I come, too, since I’m your partner?” says Quincy.
“I think it’s best you let me handle this on my own.” I pat her thigh.
“You think he’ll sign on?” she asks.
If not, he’s taken our donation for one hundred hours of daycare for his surprise baby. It’s already a win because all the dads out there will see this big pile of muscles admitting that he needs our brains to raise his unwanted kid.
“Who cares? The single dads will eat it up.” Especially after our ad runs during the big O State game on Sunday. Let’s just say I’m the face of my company for a reason. Big lips. Big tits. Tight body. I spend two hours each morning doing extreme yoga—you know, where you balance on a cliff or atop a boulder. It has to be somewhere dangerous. Of course, I’m not stupid, so I use the 3D experience at my gym.
“So you’re not going to push for a deal with Dean Norland?” Quincy asks. “You know how I feel about deviating from our five-year business plan. We need someone like him to increase enrollment. And he’s perfect for our brand. Have you seen the public’s response to him?”
I know. He is perfect. But I make it a point to not need any man. In my personal or professional life. “I’ll make Dean the offer.” And then I’ll fuck him a few times. “If he turns us down, we move on to the next candidate.” I’ll fuck him, too.
Honestly, what else are these dumb jocks good for?
“Okay, Dannie. But like we agreed, you don’t make a move or change in our plans unless we all agree.”
“Of course, sweetie. I would never disrespect your role and the value of your opinion.” Just as long as you don’t get in my way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DEAN
What the hell? After practice, I pull up to my apartment complex around eight thirty, and I’m greeted with several news vans.