Page 32 of Daddy's Game

“Wow, who got you the flowers?”

I turned to the freckled face of Madeline Powell. The recent high school grad had recently joined our modern dance classes. She wore a leotard under a knee length coat. Her eyes were fixed on the proliferation of flora occupying the lobby.

“Just a friend,” I said quickly.

“Hey, what’s with the flowers?”

Dennis Fremont, all of five feet tall but with the potential to be a fantastic cavalier, joined Madeline in admiring my gifts.

“They belong to Miz Grace.” Madeline put a hand next to her cheek when she spoke, as if that would somehow prevent me from hearing. “They’re from a quote-unquote ‘friend,’ get it?”

“Oh, right, a ‘friend.’ I totally get tons of flowers from my friends all the time.”

They giggled and I put my hands on my hips.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be in class?”

They sheepishly made their way off, but once they were around the corner I heard them laughing again. I had little time to savor my momentary triumph, however.

“Either you slept with him, or he really wants you to sleep with him.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, spinning around to find Selma standing nearby.

“I didn’t,” was all I could muster. She scrutinized my face hard, until she eventually nodded. Apparently she decided I was telling the truth.

“I believe you. But I have to admit, I’d put out for a guy who took me on a trip to Paris. Are you falling in love with him?”

I stiffened up and shot her a glare.

“We’ve only been on two dates, Selma.”

She snorted.

“That’s a yes,” she said. “Well, just be careful. He might be trying to sweeten you up just to get the center.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” I blurted angrily. Selma’s eyes went wide, and I felt bad. “Sorry. I just…there’s a lot going on inside of me. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, though.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But I understand why you did. You’re forgiven. Now, would you like to discuss what’s been going on with the center in your absence in a place with a lot less distractions?”

“Yes. Let’s go to my office.”

She nodded, but also snagged a heart shaped box of gourmet chocolates on the way. I had to laugh.

“Rule of thumb,” Selma said, “if you can’t read the language on the box of chocolates, they must be incredibly good.”

I did my best to settle back into my routine, only it turned out to be not so easy. Brock continued to shower me with attention and gifts. He would show up around noon bearing lunch, or sweep me away for a late dinner on his yacht.

I began to spend less and less time at home on my off days. I was tired, but happy. I couldn’t help wondering if I was really doing the right thing for myself. Not because I didn’t have feelings for him, but because the feelings I did have were so very intense.

I dreamed about him taking me almost every night. Yet we both seemed to be waiting for the ideal moment to come around. I had no idea what that ideal moment would look like, though.

So I accepted both his attention and his gifts. I learned not to feel guilty about the money he spent on me. After all, it wasn't like he was going to run out.

He never did tell me that he had given up on taking the center from me, and yet I allowed that thought to be buried in the back of my mind under mountains of chocolate, flowers, jewelry, and lavish attention.

So naturally when the zoning board edict came down, it took me totally off guard.

It seemed like the zoning board had been working actively against me almost from the moment I decided to open the center. Right off the bat, I had to file a ton of applications, and many of said applications had fees attached. It cost money to start a not for profit, which never made any sense to me.

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