Page 9 of Platinum Love: A BWWM Romance

Ben

I’m at the stove scrambling eggs when Zoe hops down the stairs. I can tell what they’re learning in preschool by her grand entrance hopping like a bunny, or a frog. I squint my eyes trying to figure it out before she realizes I’m clueless. Life with a four-year-old is always entertaining.

“Teeth brushed?" I yell over my shoulder.

“Yes.” Giggle.

Hop.

“Face washed?”

“Yes, yes.”

Hop. Hop. She’s taking the stairs like a champ.

“Bed made?”

“Yeeeesssss.”

Zoe giggles, pushing her brown curls out of her face. She bounces around with her hands limp at the wrist, hanging like Wendy Williams, all I need to hear is How you doin’ to confirm my decision. She’s not a frog, but a bunny.

Zoe hits the last stair then hops across the floor stopping at the table. She wraps her tiny hands around the handles, scraping the chair across the floor climbing into her booster seat.

“Zoe Bunny! What did you do with my Zoe Bear?”

“Pappa.” Her head falls over to her forearms on the table. “I’m right here.”

The squeal of her voice fills my heart with happiness. This child always wakes on the right side of life. I laugh letting her glee sink deep into my heart. Adjusting hasn’t been easy for us, but her joy mixed with my determination makes us a knockout duo.

“Oh, I saw a bunny hopping down the stairs and got worried,” I tease, grabbing her cinnamon waffle from the toaster.

Zoe stands in her chair, reaching for the syrup. I keep an eye on her not telling her to be careful, but letting my independent bunny shine.

I turn to the stove the moment she sits. I’m still trying to keep the thoughts of Hunter at bay, which is impossible since we’re meeting after I get Zoe off to school. I kind of feel like a rat asking her for $50,000. Then the letter from Zoe’s school, sitting on our coffee table comes to mind. Helping Hunter could help me pay her tuition for all of next year. That would take the foot off my throat long enough to finish my night school classes and maybe find a job in management with regular hours.

I love working at S&J, but I don’t see myself as a bartender for the rest of my life. I have business dreams of my own. So, helping Hunter helps Zoe and I too.

I plate the scrambled eggs next to the waffle and pour a glass of orange juice. I stand back to smile at my handy work. At one time, a balanced breakfast was a spoon of peanut butter and a bowl of Captain Crunch.

“Eat up, Zoe Bear.” I set the timer on the stove. My Zoe likes to linger, and we can’t be late today. “I’ll be right back.”

I place a kiss on her on the top of the head, smoothing down her unruly curls. I rush to my room, I’m still undecided about what to wear. Jeans to show I’m comfortable or a suit to show I’m professional. I settle somewhere between the two with slacks and a polo shirt. I grab my laptop and place it in my backpack since I have class tonight. Being a single dad is not easy. I yawn, realizing I forgot my coffee in the kitchen. I toss my homework inside with my computer and head to the kitchen with my keys in hand.

Zoe has ten minutes, and I use them to review my notes. I saved a business plan template to my computer. I add a few questions I need answered to give this business life.

This is a $50,000 project. To say I’m nervous is an understatement. I glance over at Zoe scrubbing her face with a napkin. She climbs down, placing her bowl in the sink.

The beep from the stove tells us it’s time.

“Ready?”

Zoe dusts the crumbs off her hands with an exaggerated clapping motion. “Yep.”

“Let’s blow this joint.”

HUNTER

I woke up delusional this morning. Blame the vodka. But I’m wishing I didn’t have to meet with Ben today. Am I wrong for hoping Daddy has rethought his tough-love ultimatum?

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