Page 105 of Unleashed

Frowning, I hold my spoonful above my bowl. “Are you insulting my parents?”

“No, they can live their lives as they wish.”

“You’re not even a medical doctor.”

“However, I am a doctor of dental surgery, not a doctor of theory.”

I take a bite and wave my spoon in the air. Amid chewing, I ask, “Were you this insulting to Simone’s past boyfriends?”

He laughs. “Simone never stayed with anyone long enough for me to meet them.”

“Then why am I not good enough for her? Because I work at a gas station?”

“Yes, for one. I saw Simone marrying a doctor like me or a lawyer. Perhaps an architect like my grandfather.” One of my grandfathers was a career hustler, and the other a career alcoholic who farmed on the side.

I chuckle because he’s been living on a different planet. He knows nothing about his daughter. “You envision Simone marrying an architect? Like Mike Brady? No way. That’s not her type. And isn’t her stepdad, Jack, also an architect?”

Dr. Horrendous squints his beady eyes at me. “I don’t recall. It doesn’t matter since he’s now her ex-stepfather.”

“Well, she still talks to him, so...”

“He’s not attending her graduation, from what I hear.”

“I know nothing about that. Maybe he’s building a house. Maybe he can build a house for Simone and me one day.” That was one of Simone’s dreams, but I won’t be a part of it.

“Sadly, he can’t build Simone’s dream house to her standards.”

“You mean yours.”

Narrowing his eyes at me, he claims, “I want the best for my daughter.”

“I try to be the best.”

He nods like he’s reached an epiphany. “I see. A gas station attendant is her type, and what’s best for her? How so?” Pecker.

“She likes my personality. What can I say? I’m entertaining.” He laughs, and I wish I had a baseball bat in my car. I shrug as I dig around my cereal. “And as you heard last night, she likes me in bed.” Simone has had better. I mean, I’m Number 24. But this clown doesn’t need to know her business. I’ll tell him almost anything he wants to know about me, and he can call me whatever he wants. However, I draw the line at her deadbeat father criticizing Simone’s life choices. I don’t care how much of his salary the bastard uses to wipe his ass.

“I see you have no respect for my daughter.” My mother needs to overnight my lucky baseball bat.

“Not true,” I argue, slurping milk from the spoon with milk dribbling down my chin. “She’s my favorite woman, my best friend, and, someday, the mother of my children.” This shit is agonizing. She used to be all of that.

“Do you love her?”

I laugh. “Do you?”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“You’re avoiding mine.”

“Yes, I love my daughter dearly.” Such horseshit. “Do you?” he repeats.

“Why would I have married her if I didn’t?” I can’t fuck this up.

He leans his back against the counter, crossing his arms again. “Money.”

“Wrong. Simone doesn’t have any.”

“Wrong. She must hide it from you.” Well, shit.

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