A Trixie Marriage
Book Two in the 'Bobby's Girls' Series!
Just past Midnight, New Year, Bruer's Brew Head Office, Brisbane, QLD
A father sat in his luxury office chair, smoking an imported cigar and raising a glass of brandy as he and his middle son toasted the New Year. His boy would be turning twenty-seven this year and it was about time he was given some more responsibility within the family business. The man's eldest son, Malcolm, was already running one of their breweries, but Garrett would be more useful heading the new office in North Queensland. Maybe the promotion and move would convince the hard-headed businessman to finally ask that beautiful girlfriend of his to marry him.
They're perfect for each other, he thought as he examined Garrett's perfectly tailored suit, barely touched glass and unlit cigar. She didn't seem bothered by Garrett's cool, calm and controlled demeanour and she'd make a perfect wife of a businessman. She was polite and charming…and already possessing money of her own. Rich, attractive men like his sons had to be careful of low class women who wanted them for their deep pockets.
He sighed. Garrett really did need to marry and make babies if he was going to run the new office. Businessmen respected married men and Garrett, as a new boss and player on the corporate chessboard, needed to be respected.
Mr. Bruer put down his glass and smiled at his son, bracing himself for a bad reaction. Garrett would want to stay here, in the thick of things, not move to a smaller, new branch that required a lot of work, but with none of the glory working at Head Office would bring. He was a loyal son though, and he'd go where he was told…
Two o'clock, New Year morning, Baker's Garage, Townsville, QLD.
A father sat on his Harley, looking around his workshop, deep in thought. Instead of celebrating the New Year with the rest of his large family, he'd snuck off before the countdown to come here and light up a cigarette. He'd quit smoking over twenty years ago, but tonight, he needed one.
He didn't feel like celebrating the beginning of a new year. In fact, he was anxious as to just what this year would bring. He was getting old and his children were growing up much too quickly. His eldest daughter Bridget would turn twenty-six this year and she was already married with two baby boys. Bobby winced. He was a granddad. Not that he didn't enjoy his grandchildren…he just wished it didn't have to be so soon. Even his youngest, Barbara, was at high school now and most likely anatomically capable of baring a child. He groaned and buried his face in his hands at the thought. He had enough grey hairs already. Hopefully Bethany didn't get impregnated whilst at university. He still couldn't understand why she wanted to study law in Brisbane, when they had a perfectly good one here. She'd be leaving in a few weeks, and it was tearing at his heart.
His mind drifted back to the party he had just left and a wave of sadness washed over him. His second eldest daughter had been noticeably absent. Again. The family always spent New Year together, but Brontë had failed to attend both this year and last. It was his fault. He knew that…but he just couldn't bring himself to make the first step, to make amends. He angrily slid a hand through his hair. His twenty-four year old daughter was a stripper and living in sin with not one, but two men. Twins! She was being shared by brothers. It pissed him off. His baby girl (stripper or not) was way too good to be shared. Hell, he'd never ever let anyone touch his Suzie. He would not accept that both these men loved her if they were willing to share.
He was more angry that she had hidden her life from him. Her sisters had known, her brother had known, hell, even her cousins had known. No one had wanted to tell him and it wasn't until Sue found out, that he'd been informed. He supposed he couldn't blame them. They'd obviously been expecting him to go off the way he did. Now Suzie was mad at him for being stubborn and Tay wouldn't come to family functions.
"You sulking Daddy?" a sassy voice interrupted his melancholy. He closed his eyes and smiled.
Ahh, my little tattooist.
"Pull up a seat, Beatrix," he said, patting the bonnet of a car beside him. She did so with the trademark Baker grin she'd inherited from him. He sucked in a breath at how much she reminded him of his younger sister Jimmy: dimpled Baker grin, the sky-blue eyes, and her cheeky, sassy attitude. His bright, cheerful daughter went much deeper than what you saw on the surface though.
She was the glue that held their family together. In fact, she'd probably come to bug him about Brontë again, suggesting ways he could make things better or trying to help him better cope with the fact his daughter displayed her body to perverted drunks for money. A job she didn't need when she was teaching dance aerobics at her uncle's gym and had a degree in English!
Trixie leaned forward and stole the cigarette from his hand. "Mum will kill you if she sees you smoking," she said with a chuckle, taking a deep puff herself, "She's onto you about your blood pressure already and these things will kill you."
He took the cigarette back and inhaled deeply. "Better me than you," he said firmly, "You shouldn't be smoking either."
Trixie rolled her eyes. "Aren't you missing the party?" he asked her quietly, then narrowed his eyes, "You didn't drive over here after drinking, did you?"
"Bridget dropped me off on the way home, she's not drinking, she's pregnant again," Trixie replied.
"Again?" he said with a groan, "I though they only wanted two."
"Bridge wanted to try one last time for a girl," Trixie smiled.
Bobby snorted, "That's how I ended up with six kids."
"Yeah?" she asked, her smile growing, "What happened with Babs then? You'd only just been given Benji at last."
Bobby chuckled, "Babara was, and always will be, a nice surprise."
Trixie laughed and jumped off the car, heading towards his office. "Want a beer Dad?" she called.
"Sure," he yelled back.
He sighed and looked out at the dark street. Maybe nothing would happen this year? He didn't want to lose another daughter to marriage and motherhood, or to a university in another state, or a stupid, drawn out fight. He glanced at his middle daughter's retreating back. He especially wanted his colourful princess to stay exactly how she was…footloose and MEN-FREE!
a/n: so how do you like it so far? I'm trying to decide whether to write the rest of the story in third person...or whether to write in first person, switching to and from Trixie and Garrett's point of view. Or just Trixie's? -problem with just doing trixie's is that there is a lot i want to do from Garrett's perspective. hmmmm.