Poor Dad Stepped In As A Plus-One Last Minute, Not Knowing She Was A Billionaire Falling Hard
The Gala and an Unexpected Meeting
Daniel Voss’s phone buzzed just as he was trying to get his six-year-old daughter, Lily, to eat her breakfast before school. The single father of fifteen months, since his wife had passed away from cancer, juggled the spatula in one hand and his phone in the other.
He nearly dropped both when he saw the caller ID.
“Mike, hey, what’s up? I’m kind of in the middle of—”
“Dan, I need a massive favor.”
His best friend’s voice came through tense and desperate.
“The charity gala tonight—my plus-one just bailed, and I absolutely cannot show up alone. My boss will kill me.”
Daniel sighed, watching as Lily pushed her scrambled eggs around the plate.
“Tonight, Mike? I don’t have a sitter, and it’s a school night.”
“Mrs. Peterson from next door can watch her; she loves Lily. Come on, man, I’m begging. It’s at the Riverside Hotel downtown. Just show up, eat the free food, make small talk for two hours, and you’re done. Please.”
Glancing at his daughter, who was now creating an egg mountain with her fork, Daniel weighed his options. Mrs. Peterson had offered to help multiple times since Sarah’s death, and he rarely took her up on it.
“Fine,” he relented. “But you owe me big time.”
“You’re a lifesaver! Black tie. Be at my place by six.”
Daniel hung up and turned to Lily.
“Sweetheart, how would you feel about spending a few hours with Mrs. Peterson tonight?”
Lily’s eyes lit up.
“Can we bake cookies again?”
“I’ll ask her,” Daniel promised, already mentally cataloging what was in his closet that could pass for black tie. The construction company he worked for rarely required anything fancier than clean jeans.
Hours later, after dropping Lily off next door with promises of cookie baking and an early return, Daniel found himself tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his one decent suit. It was the same one he’d worn to Sarah’s funeral, though he tried not to think about that.
“Stop fidgeting,” Mike hissed as they entered the grand ballroom of the Riverside Hotel. “Just act natural.”
“Natural? I’m wearing rented shoes and a tie I had to YouTube how to knot properly,” Daniel muttered, eyes widening at the opulence around him. Crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings, and waiters in white gloves carried trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
These looked more like art installations than food.
“It’s for children’s education in underserved communities,” Mike explained, nodding at various colleagues. “Silverton Foundation’s annual fundraiser. My firm handles their legal work, so attendance is basically mandatory.”
Daniel nodded, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
“So I just stand around and look interested?”
“Pretty much. Oh, and if Victoria Silverton approaches, just be polite. She’s the head of the foundation and basically signs our checks.”
Before Daniel could ask for more details, Mike was pulled away by a senior partner. This left him alone in a sea of tuxedos and evening gowns that probably cost more than his monthly mortgage.
Feeling distinctly out of place, Daniel made his way to a quiet corner near a massive ice sculpture. He pulled out his phone to check on Lily, smiling at the photo Mrs. Peterson had sent of his daughter with flour on her nose.
“Not enjoying the party either?”
The voice beside him made Daniel nearly drop his phone. He turned to find a woman in a simple but elegant navy blue dress, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders.
Unlike many of the guests, her jewelry was minimal—just small diamond studs and a delicate bracelet.
“That obvious, huh?” Daniel smiled, tucking his phone away.
“You’re hiding in the corner checking your phone. Classic avoidance behavior.”
Her smile was warm, making her dark eyes crinkle at the corners.
“I’m Vivien, by the way. Vivien Silverton.”
Daniel’s stomach dropped as he remembered Mike’s warning about the foundation head.
“Daniel Voss. I’m, uh, here with my friend Mike Lawson from Sterling and Associates.”
“Ah, one of our lawyers.” She nodded. “And what do you do, Daniel Voss?”
“I’m a site manager for RCB Construction,” he replied, half expecting her to excuse herself now that she’d discovered he wasn’t among the wealthy elite. Instead, her eyes lit up.
“Really? I’ve been fascinated by construction since I was a kid. My father used to take me to building sites when I was little. What are you working on currently?”
