Page 12 of Who's Your Daddy?

He’s still snickering when he finally lowers his hand to look at me again. That playful bickering sets the tone for the rest of the afternoon. It almost shocks me how much I enjoy the verbal jabs that fly back and forth between us. He’s fun to talk to and a great distraction from my inner turmoil.

He gives off rich kid vibes, and after some probing, I find out that his dad is a movie producer, so he is unsurprisingly unemployed. That’s probably why he has so much time to seduce all these unsuspecting women. He doesn’t have any dreams or goals or desire to work, so it seems like he just intends to live off his parent’s money for the rest of his life.

He’s a bum. A rich bum, but still a bum. And the thing is, he assumes I’m the same. I’m also currently unemployed, and it only reinforces his incorrect assumption that I’m the spoiled daughter of a country club owner. I still can’t bring myself to admit the truth. I’ve been judging him so harshly based on his relationships (or lack thereof).

Imagine what he’d say if he found out about my relationship with Teddy. Or rather my affair, because I was technically the mistress. He’d never believe that I was genuinely in love with a man who is more than twice my age, and I doubt he’d believe that I was completely unaware of his wife and kids. The only logical conclusion he could draw is that I’m a gold-digging home-wrecker, and I’m too emotionally exhausted to convince him otherwise.

I only realize that we’ve been talking for four hours when the waitress asks if we’re ready to order dinner. I decline because it’s getting late. It’s time for me to put on my big girl panties, go back to that dreary motel room, and come to terms with the fact that my very cushy life is now lost to me forever.

Peter pays the bill, and I walk with him back to the country club parking lot to get his car. I can’t say that I’m surprised when he stops in front of the passenger door of an electric blue Bugatti Chiron, but I have to make a conscious effort to not let my mouth drop open. Dayum! His parents hooked him up good.

“Hey, where are you parked?” he asks as he unlocks the car.

I used to drive a Porsche convertible, but Teddy took that back, too. “I’m just gonna get a taxi.”

“Do you want me to give you a ride?”

There’s no way I’m going to let him see the dump I currently live in. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

“Oh...okay.” He shifts uncomfortably on the balls of his feet, and it seems like he’s stalling. “Well, I had a great time.”

“It was sort of an average experience for me.” I lie, stretching my hand out to shake his. “But thanks for the coffee.”

He chuckles, looking down at my hand, and after a brief pause, he reaches out to shake it. “You know...I’m not ready to let the night end just yet. Are you?”

“It’s getting late. I really should—”

He subtly tightens his hand on mine, so I don’t pull away. “I have a beach house not too far from here. You wanna hang out for a little longer? We can get some pizza, watch the sunset. What do you say?”

What he means is his parents own a beach house close by, but the question still makes me reconsider my options. Dingy motel? Pizza? Dingy motel? Sunset on the beach? Dingy motel? Big, broad overly sexualized male?

That’s where my brain pauses to think about whether I want to jump into a car with a virtual stranger and let him take me to an undisclosed location. Then again, he isn’t the creep I initially thought he was, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy his company.

“If I agree,” I begin cautiously, “I want to make sure you don’t have any...expectations.”

His eyebrows furrow together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...I already told you I won’t sleep with you, and I want to make sure you fully understand whatnomeans before I get in the car.”

For the first time today, he looks genuinely offended. He releases my hand and is silent for a long time before he responds. “Take a good look at me,” he says, purposely keeping his voice low to hide his anger. He steps closer, encroaching on my personal space, and my heart rate kicks up a notch. “Do I look like the kind of guy who wouldeverneed to force himself on a woman?”

As much as that bout of arrogance annoys me, I answer honestly. “No, but you look like the kind of guy who’s never heardnobefore. I’m not sure your brain can even process rejection. What if it explodes?”

That earns me a small smirk, and the tension dissipates. “Well, I’ve already accepted your rejection without any injury to my brain.” He steps back and opens the passenger door. “Now, are you gonna get in the car, dollface? Promise I won’t bite...unless you want me to.”

I roll my eyes as I push past him to get into the car. “I want extra cheese.”

He smiles. “Sure.”

We drive to a pizza place a few blocks away and order a large pizza with extra cheese. It’s not even a five-minute drive from the pizza place to his beach house, and I’m rendered speechless when he parks his car in front of an immaculate double-story home. It’s gorgeous, but because I’m supposed to be a spoiled, rich brat too, I pretend I’m only mildly impressed.

“Nice place you have here,” I say, stepping out of the car.

“Thanks.” He picks up a rock from the floor, but it’s actually a case disguised as a rock. He takes out a key and unlocks the door.

“You just hide the key there?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. I don’t always remember to carry the key around with me, so it’s just easier like this.”

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