My Fake Fling

“Does Lucas know who his dad is?” he asked.

“No.” The face he made told me all I needed to know about how he felt about that. “You think that’s bad?”

“I think so after I’ve spent some time with those new cousins I told you about,” he said. “They didn’t know their dad and it had some negative consequences on their lives.”

“You can’t make someone want to be a dad,” I countered.

“No, but it might be a good idea to be honest with the kid about who his dad is and what he is,” he said. “Not that I have any business giving parenting advice. I just think part of the kid’s trouble might stem from not knowing.”

He was making a lot of sense. I nodded in agreement. “You’re probably right. I’ll talk to Ally. He should know who his father is. But don’t you think it might hurt his feelings to find out his dad wanted nothing to do with him?”

“I don’t think he needs the dirty details,” he replied. “Again, that is just my opinion. I could be very wrong. But after spending time in New York, I think all those men would have appreciated a little honesty. It didn’t lessen the blow, but at least they knew the truth.”

He was making all very good points. “I will definitely talk to Ally,” I said. “Thank you for the different point of view.”

“I’m full of points of view,” he said.

My eyes roamed around the rooftop area. This place had not been included in my tour of the tower the first time we had come together. “This is really nice,” I said. “It’s very quiet and dare I say romantic?”

“Would you like a tour?” he asked.

“I would love a tour,” I said.

“Just a second,” he said and pulled out his phone. He tapped out a message and then put the phone down. “Two minutes.”

“Two minutes?” I asked with confusion.

“For our cocktails,” he answered.

“Oh goodness. It’s the full-service treatment.”

“Only the best,” he said with a wink.

He was flirting. Damn, if he did not have the art of flirting mastered. He could really make a girl forget all her worries. I heard the elevator ding and a moment later a waiter was rushing toward us with two cocktails on a tray. “Thank you,” I said and took one of the drinks.

The waiter collected our empty plates and rushed away once again. “Did you tell them to not come up here unless you called them?”

“It was implied,” he said.

“Ah, I see.” I took a tentative sip of the cocktail and nodded. “It’s good. Another one of the signature cocktails from your lounge?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

“It’s delicious,” I said. “It could be dangerous. I don’t taste any of the alcohol.”

“That’s our world class mixologist,” he said. “Shall we take that tour of the rooftop?”

“Please, I want to see it all.”

“I would be happy to show it all to you,” he said and got to his feet. “All of it.”

I didn’t miss the innuendo. The area that I could see looked to be the perfect place for a quaint reception or a block party of sorts. “Did you design this?” I asked him.

“No.” He chuckled. “I wish. I don’t have this kind of attention to detail. I will say I did give them an idea of what I wanted. The designers just made it come to life. We wanted to market it as a rentable space but nixed the idea. It is not an included perk with ownership.”

“Ah, no measly renters allowed,” I said.

“We have to give our property owners a little extra something.”