Daddy's Angel Ch. 01

He turned to Angel, "Chef Giorgio always has dinner ready at 7pm sharp. Abby, please have Chef prepare lean meats, whole grains, and fresh vegetables for Angel during her stay with us."

"It would be wise for a physician to give you a full check-up, considering you've been on the streets for some time now. It will let us know if there are any infections or vitamin deficiencies that need treatment," Hank added.

Angel nodded, "I haven't seen a doctor in a while, but it makes sense. I don't like being poked and prodded, but it's reasonable."

"Great. I'll have the doctor here tomorrow," Hank said, standing up.

Abby also stood and motioned for Angel to follow her. As they were leaving, a stern-looking woman in a gray pant-suit walked past them into the room.

"Who was that?" Angel asked Abby.

"That's Tali, Mr. Miller's head of security," Abby replied. "Come on, we have a full day ahead of us. I'll give you a brief tour of the facilities and then we'll go shopping! We should be back for dinner at 7 o'clock. Mr. Miller would miss us if we're late."

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"Thanks for coming, Tali," said Hank.

"My pleasure. This is about your new guest, I presume."

"Yes. I'd like some dossiers. Tell me all you can about Angel. I'd like to know that her story checks out. Find out anything you can about her step-father and her mother. Also give me anything you can find about Derek Doyle."

"That asshole at the bar you like to visit?" Tali inquired.

"Yeah. He finally pissed me off enough that I'd like to do something about it. Tell me where he gets his money, any criminal activity, and see if you can find out where and how often he trains. I'd like some specifics, like how much he can bench." said Hank.

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"These will be your rooms," said Abby as she opened the door.

"Wow!" Angel exclaimed, taking in her surroundings as she walked from the conference room to the residential wing of the mansion.

"Here's your sitting room. There's a small study with a desk, computer, and bookshelves over here," Abby said as she showed Angel around.

"I need to stop saying 'wow'," Angel said with a chuckle.

Abby smiled and said, "You'll get used to it. Here's the bedroom, with a king bed. And your bathroom is just through that door. The housekeeping staff will take care of all the cleaning and laundry. Just relax while you're here. Feel free to leave your stuff in here. It will be here when you come back."

"Let's head down to the gym. It's on the first basement level," Abby said as they left the room.

"The first basement level?" Angel asked in surprise.

"The compound has three basement levels. Gym and movie theater on the first basement level, laundry and housekeeping on the second level, and facilities like water heaters and generators on the third. It's a pretty extensive compound," Abby explained.

As they walked into the gym, Angel couldn't help but be impressed by the size and equipment.

"You've got at least three of everything! This place is better equipped than the gym that I used to work at! Dumbbells up to 500 pounds? Who's using those? Does Hank lift?" Angel asked, her curiosity piqued.

"I think the gym has been mostly aspirational for Mr. Miller. He does cardio and some light weight training almost every day, but he's no bodybuilder," Abby said.

"I know this is your natural habitat, but we do have a schedule to keep. So let's get to the fun bit. Shopping!" Abby said, steering the conversation back to their schedule.

"I can't remember the last time I shopped for any clothes that didn't come from Goodwill," Angel admitted.

"Well, today we will introduce you to the joys of Nordstrom! Let's head over to the garage. I'll drive," Abby said as they left the gym.

As they walked to the garage, Angel couldn't help but be in awe of the fleet of more than a dozen vehicles.

"We'll take the Cayenne so we have room for our bags," Abby said as she selected a set of keys from a board.

As they drove, Angel turned to Abby and asked, "Is this for real? Is Hank a total bullshit artist, or is he the real deal?"

"Hank is definitely for real. He's a tremendously successful investor who started with virtually nothing but had a sense for innovation early on and could predict what would hit and what wouldn't. He's been the money behind some of the most widely used technologies that we all benefit from today. You won't see his name on any of those 'Richest People' lists because he avoids publicity, but I believe he has acquired more wealth than anyone on those lists. As for his offer, yes, it's very real. He's remarkably good at seeing potential and he sees potential in you. Take your time in deciding if you'd want to commit to his offer, but know that it's very real."

"What he's offering is overwhelming. It's everything that I've wanted for as long as I can remember," Angel said, trailing off and lost in thought for several minutes.

After a while, Angel resumed the conversation. "So how did you become Vice President of Miller Holdings? You look pretty young for a title that impressive. I mean, you can't be much older than me, can you?"

Abby grinned. "You're very sweet. Thanks for the compliment. I'm 32 now, and I've been working for Mr. Miller since I finished grad school 11 years ago."

"Wait. You finished grad school when you were 21?" Angel asked.

"Yeah. I've always been book-smart. I graduated high school when I was 16, earned two bachelor's degrees by 19, and had my two master's degrees by 21. Mr. Miller was looking for a business advisor with fresh ideas and a feel for new technology. One of the headhunters that he hired found my resume and I've been with Miller Holdings ever since. I did earn a few promotions during that time," Abby said.

"That's impressive!" said Angel.

"What's really impressive is that Mr. Miller was able to see my potential. I was a mess when he interviewed me. I was coming off a horrible relationship with an emotionally abusive asshole, and I'm sure I looked like a wreck. At that point in my life, I had trouble getting out of bed in the morning. I felt like I had no self-worth," Abby said.

Angel looked at Abby with sympathetic eyes. "Want to talk about it?"

"Sure," Abby responded. "I'm long since over that piece of shit. Greg and I had been together since we were 18. He was hot, like physique-model hot. He was pretty smart, too, but we both knew he couldn't hold a candle to me in the brains department. He would always put me down for not being attractive enough, that he was embarrassed to be seen with me," Abby said.

"That's ridiculous!" said Angel. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And I used to hang out with physique models all the time!"

!

"Thanks, Angel," Abby smiled, though Angel could see that her eyes didn't express the same joy. "Anyway, Greg pressured me into getting these." She gestured to her obviously enhanced breasts. "When I had a consultation with the plastic surgeon, I wanted to get something within the realm of the natural, but Greg wouldn't shut up about how he liked really big tits, and 'didn't I want to look good,' and a couple of other choice put-downs. He was a master of negging. I relented and went with the biggest set that the doctor was comfortable giving me considering my thin frame. When I had healed, he wanted me to show cleavage when we went out. I'll never forget that first date after I took off the bandages. I was wearing a low-cut, slinky black little number with a slit up the thigh. I was really showing off the new girls! Heads were turning left and right, and I was soaking up the attention. Greg hated that. We were walking to the restaurant, almost there, when a passing guy wolf-whistled at me. I turned and smiled at him. That's when Greg snapped. He called me a slut and a whore, and he slapped me hard across the face before walking away from me. I collapsed on the sidewalk, crying and with a bloody lip. That was a week before I had to defend my second dissertation."

"That sucks," said Angel. "Do you know what happened to Greg afterward? Have you kept tabs on him?"

"No. I had so much going on at the time. I had to pull myself together enough to defend my thesis, and I already had my interview scheduled with Mr. Miller two days after that. I just cried a lot whenever I could get some alone time. I'll tell you what, though. If you do take Mr. Miller up on his offer, and want to include Greg on your list of shitheads that you beat the snot out of with your bare hands, I won't complain." Abby concluded, with a mischievous smile.

"It's a deal! And by the way, I love your tits! They're gorgeous," said Angel.

"Thanks. It took me a while, but I love them now, too. You wouldn't believe what an advantage they are. Especially when I walk into a room full of male executives. They constantly underestimate me, thinking that I got my job because of the girls, that I'm sleeping my way to the top. I can tell by how some guys look at me that I will totally destroy them in negotiations." The full beam smile was back as Abby said that.

"So are you and Hank...?" Angel asked, trying and failing to be subtle.

"That didn't take long! Everyone asks. The short answer is no. We aren't together, we've never slept together, we don't have any intimate contact. Our relationship is strictly a business one."

"That's the short answer?" asked Angel. "What's the long answer?"

"Maybe one day we will crack open a bottle of wine and each talk about things that could have been. As for right now, we're here. Let's get you some clothes!"

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Hank sat at the head of the dining room table, with Abby and Angel on either side of him. "This table is huge! There's space for 30 people!" exclaimed Angel.

"Yeah," Hank replied. "I'd always kind of wanted a big family. It just never happened. I guess the table was my mid-life crisis purchase. Anyway, how was your day?"

"OH MY GOD! It was AMAZING! Abby took me to Nordstrom. Did you know that department stores have customer levels? Abby is a 'Level 4.' There was a woman who greeted us at the door, brought us fancy coffee, took us to a private dressing room, and brought us all the things we asked to see. I got like 20 different gym outfits, and they measured me for some business suits. They won't be ready for a few days because I can't really buy off the rack. But there was a seamstress who took my measurements and said she would fix the stuff, and we got a few pairs of jeans, shorts, tank-tops, and then Abby and I both tried on some bikinis. Have you seen Abby in a bikini? She's so HOT! And then, when we got back, there was some time before dinner, so I got in a solid hour in the basement gym! That place is AWESOME! I LOVE working out there!" Angel took a breath, trying unsuccessfully to contain her glee. "Sorry! I'm kind of excited," she said.

"It sounds like it," said Hank. "Abby, is there any word on Angel's car?"

"The boys found it and got it out of impound. They're working on it now, and it should be ready tomorrow afternoon," Abby replied.

"Excellent. Angel, I want you to take this time to train, heal, and recuperate. You will always have a home here, but please think about my offer," said Hank.

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The next morning, Hank made his way down to the gym like he did every day at 7am, ready to spend his hour on the elliptical and do a few crunches. As soon as he entered the door, Angel ran up to him. She was sweaty, in a sports bra and lycra shorts that left nothing hidden. Her abs were pumped, six-pack clearly defined, with some veins running up and down her firm stomach.

"Hi Hank!" she shouted as she ran over to him. She grabbed both of his hands in hers and started swinging their arms back and forth.

"Hey Angel! I see you've spent some time down here," Hank replied.

"Yeah. I like to lift first thing in the morning. Hey! Could you spot me?! I've been blasting my abs all morning, but there's this one exercise that really reams them out. I need a second pair of hands, though," Angel said.

"What would you like me to do?" Hank asked.

"Grab a 25lb plate and follow me," Angel replied.

Angel walked over to a pull-up bar. She jumped up, grasped the bar and maneuvered herself so she was hanging by her knees.

"Okay. Hand me the plate. Keep one hand on the small of my back and the other on my abs. I need you to keep me from swinging and cheating. Just keep me steady," Angel instructed.

Hank held the plate out with both hands as Angel grasped it. She pulled it to her chest and when Hank put his hands in place, she began to do crunches from the hanging position with the added weight. "12...13..." Angel counted out.

Hank could hardly believe what he was seeing.

"24...25"

After the 25th rep, Angel dropped the plate with a huff. "Thanks! It's difficult to get the extra weight in place without someone helping," Angel said.

Hank was staring, slack-jawed while Angel was doing these crunches. His arousal was clearly visible by the tent in his pants.

"This is always the worst part," Angel said while trying to catch her breath. "Trying to get down when my core has nothing left to give."

"Grab hold of me and let your legs go. I'll catch you," said Hank.

"Hank, I'm pretty sure that I weigh more than you. I don't think you could catch me," Angel said.

"Try me," said Hank.

"Okay," Angel replied, with a resigned tone. She knew how this would go.

Angel grabbed Hank's arms in hers, let her torso meet his, and when Hank signaled that he had her, she let her legs free from the bar. They immediately crashed to the gym floor, Hank breaking her fall.

"Oww," Hank grumbled.

"Are you ok?! Anything broken?" Angel asked.

"Just a bruised ego." Hank was acutely aware that his erection was pressed into Angel's rock hard abs. "I'm not trying to be fresh."

Angel smiled knowingly. "It's ok. I like it here. And I need a minute before I can muster the energy to move."

Eventually, Angel wrapped her arms around Hank and gave him a warm embrace. "Thanks for breaking my fall," she said, with a smile filled with genuine affection.

"Whenever you need," said Hank. "But you should really shower up. Dr. Singh will be here soon to give you your physical."

With that, they both moved to get up off the floor.

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There was a knock on the door to Hank's office. "Come in," said Hank.

Dr. Bargitta Singh knew she was a beautiful woman. She turned heads wherever she went. At 29 years old, she thought of herself as being in her prime. She worked at it too, spending a few hours in the gym each day to keep up her figure. Her looks, though, weren't what Mr. Miller was paying her for.

Dr. Singh opened the door. Even in her conservative blouse, pants, and lab coat, she was still an image of beauty.

"Please have a seat, Dr. Singh. How is your patient?" Hank asked.

"She's an interesting one," said Bargitta. "Physically she's quite healthy, though there are some lingering effects from some pretty nasty steroids that she had taken some time ago. Nothing that some well-balanced nutrition and time can't heal. It's also very clear that she has suffered intense physical trauma from sexual abuse in her past. Her cervix is quite scarred. Otherwise, she's in great shape. No illnesses or vitamin deficiencies."

"Do you think she would be a good candidate for the Formula?" asked Hank.

Bargitta gave a little chuckle. "Somehow, I knew this would come up when I saw Angel's obvious musculature. She clearly knows her way around the gym, is used to the physical discomfort of intense exercise needed for muscular hypertrophy, and doesn't appear to have qualms about using performance enhancers. In that sense, she is an ideal candidate."

"But you have concerns," Hank said.

"More psychological than physical. The Formula has the potential to make her into the strongest person in the world. Do you know how she would react to becoming that strong? Would she start harming people? I don't have to tell you about abuse patterns. People who have suffered abuse are much more likely to inflict it upon others," Bargitta pointed out.

"We will have to see. I'm not offering it to her just yet. I want her to take some time to decide what she wants. I will also be looking after her while she is making her choice. I hope that I'm not wrong about what I see in her, but I will have some time to get to know her. Then, we can decide. In the meantime, I'd like you to begin production of the Formula. Ideally, somewhere in the neighborhood of 30 doses a week. Let Abby know what you'd need to get started. And thank you for coming," Hank said, ending the meeting.

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Angel knocked on Abby's office door. Abby opened the door and smiled, gesturing for Angel to come in. She pointed to her headphones, indicating that she was on a call.

"Uh huh...Look, Peter, the production numbers just aren't where they should be. We've given you more than enough seed money. We even financed the entire third round. We are losing our patience. Mr. Miller believes in your technology, which is why we bought the patents from you. At this point, you have a simple choice. Take the next 90 days to redouble your efforts, or we will take the patents, dump our stake in your company for pennies, and leave you out of any future projects." With a slight huff, Abby pushed the 'End Call' button.

"Sorry about that," said Abby, smiling at Angel. "It was a lot more satisfying when we could actually slam a phone receiver down."

"No problem," Angel responded, with an ear-to-ear grin. "What was that all about?"

"Peter had an idea for a new technology. We reviewed it, and it looked great on paper. He helped develop a process for turning captured carbon into industrial-grade diamonds. Everything should be working out, but the levels of production aren't where they should be," Abby explained. "It's getting on my nerves, because Mr. Miller had some doubts about this particular investment. I convinced him it was worth the shot. I don't like to disappoint him," Abby said. "But enough about stupid people. To what do I owe this visit?"

Abby's thousand-watt smile was genuine and infectious. Angel couldn't help but smile back.

"I wanted to know if you were free after dinner," Angel said. "I stopped by a wine shop, and the clerk picked out a good Zinfandel for me. I was wondering if you'd like to hang out tonight."

"I'd love that! Give me an hour after dinner to freshen up and it's a date!" Abby replied.

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They each took their customary places at the dinner table that night.

"How was your day, Angel?" Hank asked.

"It was great! I got in two solid lifting workouts, and I went for a run along the wooded paths, and then for a swim! And Abby is such a BADASS! I went to her office today to see if she wanted to hang out later, and she was ripping some dude a new asshole through the phone! I don't ever want to see her angry with me," Angel exclaimed.

"Oh?" responded Hank. Turning to Abby, he asked, "And who was it that was being torn a new asshole?"

"Peter with Crystal Synthesis Technologies. You were right to keep an eye out. The numbers aren't where they should be," Abby replied.

"Do you think he's skimming, or deliberately hampering production?" asked Hank.