Page 31 of Dirty Secret

"Honestly, I don't think they wanted me as much as they wanted the photo op. And that's what I have been to them since I was born. My parents were upset that my older brothers didn't follow in the family business, but they accepted it because they had me. Their perfect daughter. The one they could mold into whatever they wanted. A media darling. A perfect match for an up-and-coming politician. I was their doll."

What they hadn't expected was when they were to present their perfect daughter to the up-and-coming politician for marriage, she'd run into a male stripper's arms. They passed it off to me being young, but what they didn't realize was I wasn't them. I had no desire for fame, fortune, or power.

The warmth of Max's hand made me pause. He was gentle, caring, giving, and nothing like my father.

"I won't say anything to my father. For all he knows, you're just the plumber that got his daughter to go to the gala." I glanced over at Mr. Brighton. "Another chance for my dad to use me to get donors for his upcoming campaign. He wants me to take my friend Felipe, which I don't mind because Felipe is a friend, but I know my father is doing it for another reason." I sigh. "So many reasons."

"Then don't go," Max said with an etching of concern in his brow.

"I could do that." I nodded as if considering that option. "But if I don't go, my father will slander me."

"What? Your father?" Mr. Brighton moved closer, putting his hands on his hips.

I had no idea why I was telling them everything about my relationship with my parents, particularly my father. Perhaps Max's cock had the power to destroy years of the emotional protective wall I had built around myself.

That idea caused my eyes to swivel to where that mighty dick lay hidden. I sighed and lifted my eyes away from the cock sent from Heaven and found Max's calming blue eyes. No matter how good in bed Max was or how kind he's been to me, one romp in the bedroom won't undo what my father has done to me.

"He will hire someone to do it for him. Then he'll act like the caring, loving father he never was and defend my honor." Because I knew exactly what would "leak" to the press about me. Apparently, a senator's daughter wasn't to associate with strippers. Everyone got that memo but me.

I held out my hand. "On one hand, he can dangle it over my head and get me to do whatever he wants." Then I held out my other hand. "On the other hand, if I don't do what he wants, he'll leak what he has on me, and then, by defending me, he will come across as a loving father who is dealing with an unruly daughter. It's a win-win situation for him and a lose-lose situation for me."

"My God, he's a monster." Mr. Brighton furrowed his brow. "I know he's your father, but if you were my daughter, it would make my heart sing to help you any way I could, and I wouldn't think of asking for anything in return. That's what parents should do. Be supportive of their kids."

My eyes burned. I nodded because I wasn't naïve. I knew how parents should be toward their children. Hearing it spoken out loud made every drop of loneliness I felt in their care bubble to the surface.

I turned my head toward the door. "Is someone cutting onions, ha ha." Wiping away the tears that didn't want to stop, I shook my head at the dumb joke.

Moving in front of me and pulling me close, Max asked the obvious question that most people who knew my father already knew the answer to. "Is your father making Felipe go to the gala, too?" He tipped my chin up and his thumb gently slid over my cheek to cut off my runaway tear.

"Yes and no. Felipe was already going to the Children's Hope Gala with a date when my father made him take me instead. Actually, Felipe wanted me to take you to the gala, and he would take his date, but for the photo ops we would pretend to be together."

"That's a good idea." Mr. Brighton's voice rumbled from behind. "Looks like you'll have to break out your tux to see if it still fits, Max."

I felt a loss from the warm embrace of Max's arms as I pulled away and turned toward his father. Mr. Brighton had a grin on his face that reminded me of his son.

"No, I couldn't ask that of Max. I think I have made it quite clear that my father isn't a good man. He will be at the gala."

"You both know I'm right here and can speak for myself," Max said.

Max's father sighed. "My son cares for you. I know him. He will go to the ends of the Earth for the people he cares about. Whether you like it or not, Ms. White, you got good people on your side. Like good versus evil. Good always prevails. It's like Star Wars, and you're Luke Skywalker and your father's Darth Vader. We won't let you turn to the dark side."

"I never said he was luring me into politics."

"Maybe not exactly like Star Wars, but you get my point. Anyway, who's up for watching Star Wars while eating chicken salad sandwiches?" Mr. Brighton's blue eyes shone with a happiness that I suspected came from years of love and fulfillment. I wondered if I would ever be that happy.

He rubbed his hands together. "Max, you explain to her that I'm right. I'll get lunch ready."

Maybe I was tired of being under his control. Perhaps I needed not to fear the public's reaction anymore. Or it could be time for me to stop hiding behind curtains and baking cookies while the world had fun. I nodded and felt relief that I had people who cared enough to help me go against my father's wishes. The first time I tried—when I was in college—no one was there to help me. It was freeing and comforting to know that I had support.

Max's father left with a grin on his face. I chuckled at his quick mood change. Was this what it was like to have a loving father? I can't remember a time I laughed with love as my father or mother walked away.

"Now that you know what my father's really like, are you sure you still wish to be seen with me?" Max tried to stop the smile from overtaking his face.

"I figured I would be the one asking you that." I inched closer and wrapped my arms around his strong, and as I found out today, defined middle. "You have a wonderful father and an amazing daughter. I'm completely jealous."

Max swept my hair off my shoulder and ate up my mouth with his gaze. I bit my lip in anticipation of his kiss I knew was coming. All the signs were there—the devouring stare, him leaning toward me, Max whispering how he was "going to kiss me now." It was obvious, but instead of relaxing after everything he did to my body today, it felt like he was going to kiss me for the first time.

There were butterflies in my stomach.

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