Dirty Daddy

I don’t know if this is Ethan’s last ditch plan to bluff his way out of an impossible situation. To keep his head high after being stolen from and hurt by someone he let get too close to him.

All I know is that while I don’t want to watch, I’m probably going to end up tuning in like everyone in the country. If for nothing else than to pray for a miracle.

That’s until the morning of the launch, when I get a phone call.

I look at the phone and my heart skips a beat.

It’s Ethan.

With trembling hands, I answer.

“Hello?” I ask, a bit shaky. The butterflies are in full force in my stomach.

“I’ve sent a car for you, babe,” Ethan says. “I want you to get in it.”

“Why?” I ask instinctively. After a week and a half of no contact, to call me out of the blue and tell me to get in a car.

I’m sorry hun, but the last time I got into a car, it was with Simon, and do you remember what happened?

“Listen to me, babe,” Ethan says into the phone. “I really really really want you to get into that fucking car.”

“Where is it going to take me?” I ask him.

“It’s going to bring you to my place,” he says confidently. I wonder if he’s that hard up for sex that he needs me again. “We’re going to watch the product launch and the match up together.”

Well, let’s just say that’s a surprise.

I honestly don’t know what to say here.

I swear to you – this is just too much.

I’m just a simple girl from Southern California. I’m not someone who normally plays these games that billionaires play. I’m at the end of my wits.

I’m all check-mated out.

“I just got word the car’s outside, Brit,” Ethan says.

I’ve been silent, but I know that if there’s even a sliver of a chance that I can go back and reclaim the father of my child I’ll take it.

“I’ll be right down,” I tell him, my mind made up.

If there’s even a chance for him and I, I’m going to do everything I can to take it.

For me, yeah. But for him as well. And most of all, for the baby.

134

Ethan

I can fucking tell the moment the car pulls up to the curb of One57.

I mean, fuck, I could have told you what Brittney was wearing from the moment she got in the fucking car.

I’ve got sensors on the car, telling me exactly where it’s at. I’ve got cameras in the car that I can see the passengers.

The cameras in the car though, that one is actually because we filmed a movie once, two people fucking in the backseat of a limo. That’s not purposely being a fucking spy or whatever. I think we called those series something like ‘Ride Me: Backseat Confessions’ or something.

Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that it’s not a big shocker when I see Brittney getting out of the car and walking toward the entrance of the building as the doorman to One57 based on the tiny micro camera I have installed on the lobby.