Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 124(@200wpm)___ 99(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
I shake my head, but my daughter’s right. I was an ass. But still, Dani is, or at least was, an escort! What man wouldn’t lose his head finding out that tidbit about his girlfriend?
Fuck fuck fuck. I’m still not happy about her past job, or the fact that she kept this from me. Then again, with the way I reacted, she probably hates me. My life is a fucking mess.
Unfortunately, there’s only one way to address this issue, and that’s by taking it head-on. Getting up, I walk to the door and grab my keys. Chrissy stands up and smirks.
“So, where are you going?”
“I guess I’m going to talk to Dani. I need some closure before I ruin my whole life and hers too.”
My daughter’s eyebrows go up.
“Closure in what way? Good or bad?”
I shake my head.
“Who knows? We’ll see.”
Chrissy doesn’t look worried at all. Instead, she merely winks and smirks while giving me a small wave good-bye.
“Well, it’s about time. Good luck, Dad.”
She laughs again as I stalk out of the office in a dark mood. I’m nervous, but also enraged and stunned. Not only was my girlfriend a hooker, but my daughter is too! What the hell?
I know I should be angry, but the fact is that I believe that everyone is entitled to choose their own destiny. In fact, I don’t have any moral hang-ups about women who work because it’s the oldest profession in the world and will always exist in the dark crannies of society. It’s probably better that Chrissy and Dani are with an up-and-up agency as a matter of fact, because this shit can get dangerous. I make a mental note to talk with Chrissy more about it, but right now, I need to focus on Dani. Maybe she doesn’t work for Three Holes anymore, but in the meantime, what am I going to do about my relationship? Even worse, is there still a relationship between us that can be saved?
11
Dani
Someone bangs on my apartment door, and I groan internally. My hair’s a mess, I’m unwashed, unhygienic, and I’ve been calling in sick to Frosty Freeze to avoid seeing another human being. But the pounding won’t stop, and with another groan, I yank down on the hem of my grimy sweatshirt, making sure I’m covered before I yell at whoever this is. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and my hoodie and leggings combo isn’t really meant for guests to see. Then again, it isn’t like I have anyone to impress. It’s probably just the exterminator stopping by for his monthly check.
The banging comes again and I groan at the person’s impatience. But then I hear Hunter’s voice and my heart freezes.
“Dani, open up,” he rasps. “We need to talk.”
I freeze with my hand on the doorknob. He’s got to be kidding showing up here after going completely silent for the last three months. I drop my hand from the door and wrap my arms around myself.
“Dani, I know you’re home. Open up,” he demands again, sounding impatient. What the hell? He must be crazy after the way he went off on me last time to think I’d just bend over and take it. He didn’t even bother to let me explain!
“No. I don’t want to see you,” I spit. “Just go away.”
The doorknob literally rattles as he shakes it angrily.
“Dani, if you don’t open this door, I will break it down, so help me God.”
Hunter’s voice is filled with rage and I know he’s not making an idle threat, so I fix my sweatshirt once more to make sure it covers my tummy, and push my curls out of my face. I know I look like hell, but he’ll just have to deal with it.
Hunter’s eyes land on mine as soon as I wrench open the door. I expect him to storm in like last time, but he takes a deep breath and walks in calmly, making his way towards my small living room. The man has never looked so good, dressed casually in a gray t-shirt and jeans, and my heart wilts a little. How can Hunter have this effect on me? I hate his guts, remember?
For a moment, the doctor’s quiet, standing in the middle of my living room while watching me like he’s trying to make up his mind about something. I look right back at him, refusing to be cowed.
“Why are you here?” I demand.
To his credit, the physician maintains an even demeanor.
“To talk,” he says in a neutral voice. “I didn’t let you explain yourself last time.”
A rude snort escapes my lips.
“You think?”
He nods, staring at my curvy form.
“I’m sorry about that, Dani. But I’m here now, and I want to listen. I need you to tell me the whole story: why you were escorting, and what drove you to it.”