Page 34 of Daddy's Pretty Baby

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Melly

I stopped by Dunkin’ Doobie to say hi to Curtis, our line cook, and subtly ask if there was an opening for a waitress.

“Naw honey,” said the sixty year-old wrinkled man. Curtis has been with Dunkin’ Doobie since it opened thirty years ago, and is the restaurant’s eyes and ears. He’d know if I could get my job back.

“Ella was hired after you left, and Jimbo really likes her,” he said, nodding to the strange girl standing at the counter. I could see why. The blonde had big poofy hair and even bigger breasts, with a dumb, vacant expression in her eyes. Jimbo was practically breathing into her ear as we watched, his greasy fingers on her tits.

“God,” I said under my breath. “It’s a miracle that she gets her orders straight.”

Curtis looked at me pointedly then.

“She doesn’t,” he said wryly. “Come back in a week, maybe she’ll be gone, the café can’t lose money forever.”

And I shot a grateful smile at my friend. Curtis was the only person I felt comfortable talking with at the Dunkin’ Doobie, the only one who was non-judgmental and kind. He’s had a lot of life experience, seen a lot of things, so I didn’t think he’d look at me odd, even if I told him I’d sold my virginity for a place to stay. Or even more shockingly, that’d I’d fallen in love with a man that treated me like a five year-old girl … and that I loved it. I loved the lifestyle, I loved being a little girl to my Daddy Dom, Mr. Lancaster wasn’t just my daddy, he was my lover, my other half, my everything. And Curtis wasn’t holding back, the questions came flying.

“So where you been these three months?” he asked curiously, flipping pancakes on the griddle. “You up and left so fast, folks here thought there was some family emergency. But I know you got no family.”

I nodded slowly. Curtis was the only person I’d told about my sad history, he was the only person who knew I hadn’t seem my mom and dad since I was a child, that I’d grown up in group homes. It was my shameful secret, and I didn’t want the world to know.

“I’ve been away,” I murmured, not meeting his eyes. “Had some things to take care of.”

“Some things?” he asked, one eyebrow lifted, reaching for some ketchup.

“Yeah, things,” I muttered again, face dropping. There was the non-disclosure agreement, I couldn’t say that I’d been with Robert Lancaster, billionaire mogul. I couldn’t say that I’d lived with him for three months at his extravagant manor, giving him my virginity, spending nights tangled in his bed, in exchange for cold hard cash.

But I took a deep breath then. Because no, I couldn’t get into specifics, but I could stick with generalities. And what was wrong with revealing that I’d fallen in love? Love is universal, something that happens to all human beings. Confessing that I’d fallen in love with a man wouldn’t breach the confidentiality agreement, in fact, it was totally normal.

“The thing is,” I started, throat swelling, eyes tearing up. “I met someone.”

Curtis looked at me once more before putting his spatula down.

“Why is he making you cry then? Why are you back here, and not with him?”

“I guess it’s really complicated,” I choked out. “He’s a lot older than me, and … and …”

Curtis continued stirring, unperturbed.

“So? Age doesn’t make a difference. Me and Letty, we’re twenty years apart, yet we’ve been married forty years.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. God, the tears had started and they were hot, rolling down my cheeks. I was pathetic for sure, losing it in the back of Dunkin’ Doobie like this.

“No, it’s not that,” I said slowly. “It’s that he’s not into me,” I managed in a weak voice. “I thought that he loved me, but he doesn’t. To him, it was just about …”

I couldn’t say it, not in front of Curtis. I couldn’t say the word “sex,” my friend was my friend, yes, but he was also my elder, respectable, honest, and from a different generation. But the sixty year-old surprised me.

“It was about sex?” he asked, not even blinking an eye. “You can say it girl, I got nine kids, I know how they’re made.”

And I nodded gratefully then.

“It was just about the physical for him. I thought we were in love, there was something in the air and we always had such a good time together. But in the end it was just about the physical,” I said bitterly. “I really learned a lesson,” I added, the tears pouring harder now. “The medicine was bitter.”

And Curtis nodded sagely, a wrinkled hand reaching for some thyme or parsley, I wasn’t sure which.

“A lot of dudes are about the physical,” he agreed. “But if you had such a good time with him, why do you think it was about the sex only? It’s pretty hard to fake good conversation, to fake like you love someone when you’re with them all the time.”

That was true, and I blinked blearily in the café’s kitchen. But what did I know? I was just a naïve twenty year-old, selling my virginity to a much older man. I’d been taken, the wool had been pulled over my eyes, I’d been a dumb sheep tricked by a wolf.

---