Don't Call Me Daddy

“They didn’t mention that we have a dress code, I see.” He laughs under his breath and takes a drag off his cigarette.

“It was kind of a last-minute thing…” The lie rolls off my tongue before I can even think about it, but I quickly try to turn it into a joke. “I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to wear zombie makeup in a place like this.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.” He looks down and shakes his head, but I hear a slight hint of humor in his tone. “I’m sure there are plenty of people here who won’t mind.”

“Are you going to throw me out?” I take a quick puff and move a little closer to him.

“Nah, I have more important things to do tonight.” He drops his cigarette on the ground and steps on it. “Like getting another drink. It was nice meeting you, Ainsley.”

“You too…” My voice trails off as he walks away.

He didn’t come out and say it, but it might as well have been a rejection. He could have asked if I wanted to go back to the bar with him. I think I made it pretty clear that I was just here with a friend.

Oh well. This is how it normally goes. I shouldn’t be surprised.

I let my cigarette burn for a little longer before I put it out and head back into the building.

“Ainsley, where have you been?” Sarah walks up to me as soon as I step inside. “Some of the people are starting to leave. We need to get upstairs now before we miss our chance!”

“Sorry, I just went outside for a minute…” I nod. “Let’s get this over with.”

My interaction with Lawson isn’t enough for me to cry myself to sleep, but I’m definitely hitting the mini bar when I get to the hotel.

I don’t know why I keep doing this to myself. I get worked up because I’m attracted to some guy just because he looks like my type, and then I get disappointed when they aren’t interested. I’m young. I have Daddy issues. I get it. It just shouldn’t be this damn hard.

“Alright, top floor.” Sarah hits the button once we’re on the elevator.

“You’re sure there are no security cameras or anything?” I give her what feels like my hundredth look of concern.

“I asked my dad. He said they don’t have any.” She gives me a nudge. “Relax, this is going to be fun.”

“Your dad didn’t think it was strange that you were asking about security cameras at the place where he used to work?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I told him we were thinking about stopping by the party for free drinks while we were in the city; he thought it was a great idea.” She smiles and shrugs.

He would. He’s the same guy who gave Sarah a beer when she was sixteen and told her she was going to start drinking eventually, so she might as well have her first one with him.

The elevator comes to a stop, and Sarah is the first one to step off. I hesitate for a second or two before following her. There are a few desk lights on, but it’s really dark. Sarah pulls out her phone to use it as a flashlight, then walks toward a row of doors.

“Not this one. Not this one. Ah, here it is!” She motions to me.

“Great.” I walk up and read the name on the door—then my heart drops into my stomach. “Wait, Lawson Brooks? I met this guy downstairs. He didn’t seem so bad…”

“He’s a fucking asshole.” She pushes the door open and walks inside.

I didn’t get that impression when I met him. He didn’t look like the happiest guy in the world, but he was nice enough. Sure, he didn’t stick around long enough to talk—nor did he seem interested in me—but that doesn’t mean he deserves this.

I follow Sarah into his office, and another thought hits me. I told him my name. My real name.

Shit.

“Hope you don’t like this lamp, asshole.” Sarah pushes the lamp over and kicks it into the wall which causes it to shatter.

I look around his office while Sarah gets to work smashing stuff. There are pictures on his desk. He has kids. There’s a picture of a girl, I assume it’s his daughter, on her wedding day. I don’t get a chance to look at it closely before Sarah sends it hurling across the room, and I hear the glass break.

“Come on, break something.” She points at the framed certificates on the wall. “Start with those…”

I don’t guess I have a choice. It’s not like I talked with him long enough to know for sure that he’s not an asshole.