Daphne Vs. Daddy

“Lisa!”

Becca’s voice finally cuts through my thoughts and I realize, in a distant part of my brain, that she’d been saying my name for quite some time now. Whoops.

Way to pretend that you’re really listening, Lisa.

I look up and give Becca a weak smile. “Sorry, lost in my own thoughts. What were you saying?”

“What gives? I've never seen you like this before. Ev. Er. I’ve seen those dogs with the flappy ears that drag on the ground—”

“Hound dogs?”

“Yeah, hound dogs that look happier than you do right now.”

Ouch.

But, probably true.

Dammit, I really am in sorry shape.

“Diesel,” I sigh. “I mean, Carlton. No one names their child Diesel, except for Kindle authors, apparently.”

She’s just staring at me, so I plunge on.

“Anyway, the problem is, I’m in love with a liar. A man who literally cannot tell the difference between a lie and the truth. It was funny when he called himself an outlaw when we first met. I mean, that’s just a pick-up line, right? And then, after that, he pretends to be one because he knows I’m attracted to that and he wants to please me.

“But what I really want is to date someone who isn’t insane.”

“You’re in love with him?” Becca breathes excitedly.

My hand fina-fuckingly stops twirling my glass in my hand and I set it down with a thump.

Oh.

My.

God.

“I am,” I say, staring back at her, happiness welling in my chest. “Becca, I really, really am. I love him!” My excitement pops like a soap bubble and I wail, “I’m in love with a compulsive liar!”

Becca scoots her chair around the table so she can put her arm around me and pat me on the back comfortingly as I cry into my gin and tonic.

I never was a pretty drunk.

“Well, if the Kindle authors are to be believed,” she says authoritatively, “these kinds of shenanigans are usually wrapped up in about three weeks or so. So, you only have to make it through the next three weeks as a single woman, and then Diesel—Carlton—will pull his head out of his ass, start telling the truth, and declare his love for you.”

“You think so?” I sniff.

Indelicately.

Have I mentioned that I’m a sorry-ass drunk?

“When have Kindle authors ever let us down?” Becca asks brightly.

r /> “Well, they say that people regularly name their children Diesel,” I remind her.

“Maybe they do and we just haven’t met them yet.”

Huh. Good point. It’s not like I’ve met all of humanity or something.