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Possessive Baby Daddy

Page 20

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“Not even a little.”

“I’ve learned that life can be fun, if you let it. And this decision isn’t easy for me… so why not make it fun at least? Come on, kiddo. Just relax and enjoy the process.” He smiles at me and puffs his cigar.

I lean over his desk and smack the cigar from his mouth. He frowns then gets up and gingerly lifts it off the floor. He blows on the wet end and sticks it back in his mouth, puffing away with a smile.

I glare at him. I’ve never hated my father so much before in my life, but right now I think he’s a monster. I’ve always known that he’s a vain, self-interested little man, but I thought he loved me at least. I always thought that was the one redeeming thing about him.

Now I realize I was wrong.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m rooting for you,” he says. “Even though I’ll make way less money if you win.”

“Thanks, Aldo,” I say.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that.”

“I’m done with you.” My voice is low and I’ve never felt so sure of something in my life. “When this is over, we’re through. I never want to see you again.”

“Don’t be like that,” he says again. “You’ll change your mind. Like I said, this contest was made for you.”

“Go to hell.”

He laughs and picks up his phone. He starts to tap at it and I stare like he’s insane, because I’m pretty sure he is.

“Well, here’s the thing. Whether you hate me or not is a moot point, because the contest starts riiiiiiight…. Now.” He taps his phone. It makes a whooshing sound, like he just sent an email. “So, I need you to go to Palos Verdes and build a sandcastle two feet high. Whoever builds it first wins.”

“Wait, what?”

“Clock’s ticking.” He taps his phone again. “Just texted and emailed Shaun. If you’re lucky, he won’t see it for a while.”

“You’re such a dick.”

He shrugs and puffs his cigar. “I get why you might think that. But you don’t really have time to waste here, kiddo. You’d better get moving.”

I stand there for a long moment, my heart beating fast. I don’t know what I should do. If I play this game, I’m legitimizing this insanity, but if I don’t, he might actually follow through and sell. Frankly, I think he’s looking for any reason to get me out of the way. He wants that money more than he wants to make me happy.

That much is obvious.

I bet he wants me to be so angry I don’t follow through. I bet that’s his whole plan. Goad me into this absurd farce of a performance and laugh as I quit. He’ll sign the sheet with Shaun and walk away a very rich man.

Or I can play along. I can shut my mouth, suck it up, and win this stupid contest. And when it’s over, I’ll have my company, and I’ll turn it into what I’ve always wanted it to be.

I turn my back to him. “How do I prove it?” I ask.

He laughs, delighted. “I have it all set up already. You’ll see. I borrowed some production assistants for this, I hope you don’t mind.”

I shake my head and don’t reply. I leave his office, walking fast.

Anger flows through me. Anger at myself for falling into this trap, anger at my father for putting his daughter through this. And anger at Shaun for trying to rip this thing away from me.

There was a piece of me that thought Shaun meant it when he said he wanted me. Maybe I wasn’t ready for that, but at least there was a part that thought he really was going to stay in my life and help me with all this.

That part is dead and buried.

When I’m out of sight of my dad, I run as fast as I can out of the building, jump in my car, and hit the road. There will be traffic this time of day, there’s always traffic around here. I just have to hope Shaun hits something worse.I park my car and jump out. I hurry over to the steps that lead down to the beach and run down them. As I get close to the beach, I slow and stop in my trail, staring down at a huge sign.

It says, BUILD YOUR OWN SANDCASTLE, FREE TODAY!

I clench my jaw. “Sandcastles are always free,” I mutter before hurrying down the rest of the way. I hit the sand and trudge over to the sign. Three young men are sitting around it wearing khakis and polo shirts and holding clipboards. When they see me coming, they all perk up.

“Klara, hi there,” says the closest. He looks like he’s twelve and has black hair. “Oh, man, I’m so glad you’re here.”



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