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It’s a fight not to roll my eyes. As I slip into the hall and close the door, I can hear his bass following behind me.

“Okay, Ellybelly, let’s sit down and finish that breakfast. Uh-oh, looks like that silly dad of yours forgot to put cinnamon on the apple slices…” Whatever else he says is drowned out by the sound of her laughter.

Sure, for him she laughs.

The ache between my shoulders intensifies as I pull the door shut behind me. Trying to move on, I push play on the book I recently downloaded.

Welcome to “Girl Dad,” by Doctor Ashanti Foster…

Tapping the volume button, I find myself hoping this will be the book that finally makes me think I know what I’m doing. Even though I know it won’t be.

Anyway, time to go sell my body to make rent, while Mike’s the one who gets to make my girl laugh.

CHAPTER TWO

Dean

I’m getting my suit back on piece by piece. Trying to move as quickly as possible without making it look like I’m desperate to get out the door.

Really though, I’m desperate to get out the door.

“Everything okay?” My client, Tim, stands in the bathroom doorway with a towel around his waist. Honestly, he actually looks concerned.

“Uh, not really.” I hold up my phone. “Got a message from my kid’s school. There was some incident today, something to do with drugs found in the bathroom. Sounds like my daughter and her friend found them.” My stomach twisted when the principal told me, and it hasn’t straightened out yet.

The idea of my kid being anywhere near that sort of garbage makes me want to stab someone.

He winces. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not.” I shake my head. “I need to go pick her up. Even before this happened, I hated her being there. She reads at a middle school level but struggles with math. They don’t seem to know what to do with the fact that she doesn’t fit into any one grade.”

Michael wants her in a private school, and he’s probably right. The one I looked into had an application online. There’s a line for parent’s occupation. They’ll never let her in if I write in “whore.”

Impossibly, the incident at Ella’s school isn’t even the only thing making my stomach hurt. There’s a group chat with all the escorts (and some former ones) who work for Brennan. It’s usually a bunch of joking around and plans for brunch. This morning, the messages were so bleak I eventually silenced the chat:

Simon: Stay safe out there, folks. I hear the new guy ran into some trouble with a client

Christian: Which new guy? What trouble?

Brennan: Rowan. It’s been dealt with, but a John restrained him and tried to stab him. This is your PSA not to let a client tie you up or feed you drinks you didn’t open yourself.

My hands shake as I remember the messages. I’ve really got to come up with a way out of this business.

“She must be gifted, then?”

Trying to push away my worry, I manage a short nod. Stepping into my shoes less carefully than I ought to, I consider his question.

Tim’s been a regular for about a year. He’s a young widower whose husband died in a fishing accident less than a year after they married. I’m his sub for sex and companionship without the hassle of dating.

Twice a month I come here to his beach townhouse where we fuck and have breakfast before he goes to work. We’ve become friendly, but talking to my clients about my daughter is something I try not to do much.

Guess I take too long to answer because I’m tucking my shirt into my pants when he says, “Forget I asked. It’s none of my business. Obviously.”

“It’s complicated, that’s all,” I say. Never good to hurt a client’s feelings. Especially one I actually sort of like. The sex is a little boring, but he’s an okay guy. Having years of experience with what some clients like, boring is fine with me.

“Sure, I understand.” He slicks his wet hair back from his forehead and goes to his closet to get dressed himself. “For what it’s worth, uh, I have a nephew who’s what they call twice gifted, I think? Insanely smart but also neurodivergent, so school’s a challenge even though he’s more than intelligent enough to do the work. They’ve got him over at Bardsden now, and he’s doing really well.”

“I’ve thought about applying for her to go there,” I admit. The place seemed perfect for a kid like Ella. “The standards seem awfully high. And the tuition is a lot.”