Page 49 of Daddy's Game

“But is it a bad thing that I kind of like the trappings that go along with dating a billionaire? I mean, does that make me a bad person?”

“No, it makes you human.”

She patted me on the shoulder and let me be at last. I sighed and went through the arduous process of getting insurance bids. Even with my slush fund, I wanted to make sure that I got the best deal possible. No point in wasting money, though I didn’t necessarily intend to go with the dead last lowest bidder, either.

It turned out the matter was a lot more complicated than I thought. While every one of the agents I spoke with claimed to be ‘experts’ on the new zoning board ordinance, half of them offered me coverage that would have been insufficient under the law.

Good thing I had a copy of the provision right in front of me, and ticked off the points with a ball point pen as I went. I initialed each insurance company’s name beside the ordinance they covered, and some of them were wanting.

I still hadn’t made a solid decision hours later, though I had narrowed it down to about three different companies. I really wanted to do what was best for the center, but at the same time I worried about money. Millions of dollars go fast when it comes to dealing with New York real estate, even if you’re a not for profit.

A knock came at my office door. I put down my pen and rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands.

“Come in.”

Selma entered, preceded by the delightful aroma of one of my guilty pleasures, fried fish and chips. My belly gurgled in response and I sat up straighter.

“Please say some of that is for me.”

I saw in her eyes the desire to mess with me. But in the end her kindness and human decency won out.

“Of course some of it is for you. More than half, in fact.”

“Aw, you’re too sweet–”

“Plus I know better than to show up with fish filets and not share. I might leave your office with a stump where my arm used to be.”

“Ha ha. It’s a good thing that you brought food as well as so called jokes.”

“So called jokes?” She lifted her eyebrows and I took the bait.

“All I’m saying is, that you should take your comedy act on the road…and leave it there.”

“Ba zing!” She pointed the finger gun at me and grinned. “I’m glad to see you’re not in here moping around any longer. Now, let’s eat.”

We dug in. As I squirted a swirl of tartar sauce onto a golden crispy fried filet, Selma told me the real reason she’d come…and it wasn’t to deliver my lunch.

“Okay, I think I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” I asked around a mouthful of masticated fish.

“Wrong about you and Brock. I rescind my earlier concerns. I think that you should stop worrying and throw yourself headlong into this thing, whatever it is that you two have going on.”

I swallowed my food, carefully dabbed ketchup off my lip, and took a sip of lemonade while I formulated my answer.

“And what brought on this change of heart?”

“It’s really simple. You did.”

“I did?” I cocked my head to the side like a confused dog.

“Yeah. I realized what’s changed about you since you started dating Brock.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re happy. It’s the first time you’ve been happy since, well, probably since Mizrani died.”

I swallowed my lemonade and that truth bomb as best I could.

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