Page 78 of Morally Gray Daddies

As I knew she would.

I brought my hand back to her face and turned it toward me. “Right now, all I need you to do is trust me.”

Her eyes met mine.

“And obey.”

Chapter Two

Aubrey

“You are. Un. Real.”

Sonja threw up her hand as she glanced over her shoulder at me. “What? There isn’t!”

I looked over the granite countertop of the huge kitchen island I was sitting at into the open refrigerator she was standing in front of. A fridge that was easily as big, if not bigger, than the ones I’d worked with when I was bussing tables at Denny’s. And this was in her frickin’ kitchen, not back of house in a restaurant.

It was full of food. More food than everyone here could consume in a month. And she was complaining there was nothing to eat.

“Sonya… right there, in front of you… what’s that?”

“This?” She pointed to the serving plate with a clear cover over it, exactly like you’d find in a restaurant.

“Yes.”

She removed the guard for a second, leaning in. “It’s… veal marsala, I think”

I spread my hands. “Well?”

“Eww!” She scrunched her nose in distaste. “Leftovers? No way!”

“Oh. My. God.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Are you for frickin’ real?”

“We,” she replied pointedly, “are not in the dorm right now, and that means I do not have to settle for leftovers.”

I sat back on my stool at the counter. “Wait… so you’re telling me the only time you’ve ever eaten leftovers is at school?”

“Why would I?” she answered with an actual look of astonishment. “When I’m home, there should be food in the fridge! And if not, I can order it!”

I leaned my head back and groaned. “I have literally seen you eat cold pizza slices for breakfast straight out of a box that’s been sitting on our coffee table for two entire days, and you won’t eat leftover veal marsala for lunch here in your own home? For the love of god… why?”

“I shouldn’t have to,” she huffed in reply.

“I… I have no words for you.”

Sonja closed the refrigerator door with a thunk and turned to face me, arms crossed. “If you’re through dissing me, I’m going to Uber Eats something for lunch. What would you like?”

“Umm… veal marsala. And guess what”—I thrust my hand toward the fridge—“I don’t have to wait! It’s already here!”

“What. Ever.”

I loved Sonja like a sister, and during the three years we’d attended UC Davis together she’d been as fierce a friend as any person could hope for. She’d gotten me through Calc 401, Chem 435, Professor Mandelson’s Advanced Spectrometry class, two failed relationships, three terrible one-too-many-Cosmos hookups with fuckboys I still couldn’t believe I’d let myself give into… and every step of the way she’d been the grounded, pragmatic, no-nonsense person I needed.

And yet the minute we’d stepped through the front door of her father’s mansion, she’d turned into a literal fricking princess. And not the Disney kind either.

As she tapped away at her phone ordering food she didn’t need, I looked around the kitchen once again. I’d come here on break at her invitation, not really knowing what to expect. I wasn’t from California, and prior to arriving here I hadn’t even heard of Dana Point. We’d gotten in at night, but even then, I could tell this place was fancier than anything I’d ever been at in Michigan. The gated entrance opening to a road winding up a hillside, the curved drive that ended at the front of a mansion straight out of a scene from a movie… Everything I’d thought I’d known about Sonja had been woefully short of the reality. What I’d seen when she’d ushered me beyond the front door had only reinforced that, and when she’d introduced me to the tall, dark-haired, and incredibly handsome man standing just inside the doorway as her father, well…

Sonja had led a double life, and I was still discovering the depth of it.

---