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The girl just won’t learn. She refuses to do anything I say, not to mention that door was locked.
Did she think I’d have a locked door, tell her not to enter the room, and then not have it monitored with alerts sent straight to my phone?
And here I thought millennials were the one that understood technology, not guys like me.
And speaking of guys, the ones I was meeting with excused me for my very rude need to end the meeting early, but considering they flew in from Switzerland just for this, and I barely gave them fifteen minutes of my time, I doubt we’ll be doing any business.
This transgression has cost a considerable sum, not just to me, but to one of our bigger name artists I was representing this morning.
But one word right there is why I left the meeting. Representing. I represent one thing to the world, we all do, but what’s really deep down inside? Does the quest for more money really fulfill me? No, especially as I have no one to spend it with, to experience life and all the moments together that most normal people share.
I’m different, and although I know that, Scarlett has shown me I don’t need to represent something I’m not. In discovering what makes her so unique, I’ve discovered what also makes me tick…my absolute need to be her possessive protector, her biggest supporter, and the older man who can help her avoid the pitfalls in life and really shine.
I pull up to her apartment, hoping and praying she’s inside. If she did anything drastic like rent a car and drive back to where she’s from, crossing four states, then I’m going to be hot on her heels. I will track her down, and I will bring her to heel.
To understand what I do is for the best, and it’s time to show her why. Why I’ve known this since the moment I first laid eyes on her.
“Scarlett, I know you’re in there,” I bluff, hoping she answers, but there’s not a sound. Maybe she knows I’m bluffing and is just waiting for me to go away. She’s certainly a smart girl and I wouldn’t put it past her. I need to dial in a better approach.
“You broke into my private space which means that I should be allowed to break into yours.” I rattle the knob. Nothing.
“I’m coming in,” I announce, and one of the neighbor’s doors opens and their head sticks out around the corner like a Whac-A-Mole before they wisely go back to minding their own business, thanks to my icy glare.
“Wait,” a soft voice says as I stick my key in the lock, knowing it’s not going to work, but it was the best I
could come up with. I wasn’t actually going to invade her personal space…yet. A few minutes more and that answer would be different because I am not letting her slip through my grasp. When she’s mine, she’s mine for eternity.
The door slowly slides open and I hear the pitter patter of her small feet before the sound of the ancient mattress squeaking when she dives onto the bed.
I take one step inside and remind myself that she’ll never sleep here another night in her life, and that some ‘gentleman’ I know were able to track down her landlord, and should be paying him a visit right about now. No doubt he’ll be receiving the lecture of a lifetime in regards to keeping women safe.
“I need you to come with me,” I say flatly.
“No,” she says face down into the pillow, before flipping over onto her back. “That’s how we got to this point. All those rules.”
“That wasn’t a hard rule to follow. That was breaking and entering, amongst other things.”
She says nothing, knowing I’m right.
“Scarlett, we made progress, we had…a deeper connection last night. And I’m not just talking about over my lap. I respect you but you have to respect me in return.”
“This isn’t the 1950’s. You can’t just give young people rules these days without telling them ‘why’. We don’t tolerate it. I won’t tolerate it.”
“Fair enough, this one time. The ‘why’ is what I need to show you.”
Her eyes open up wide and her head pulls back in shock. I’m shocked myself that I’ve agreed to terms I didn’t personally set, but being a Daddy is about caring for my little, and in this case my little girl needs to know what might be one of the most difficult things she’ll ever learn…if what I think is true.
If not, I’m going to look like a complete fool and this is all going to blow up in my face.
“Honey, can you come with me.” And then I show her that respect I always talk about, knowing actions speak louder than words. “Please.”
Life imitates art, or at least wise proverbs, because apparently you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. She stands and I offer my hand, gently guiding her to me and pulling her close to my hip for a hug and a kiss on the top of the head.
“I’m sorry,” she says so softly it’s barely detectable.
The natural inclination to say something domineering hits me, but I pause knowing that’s not what she needs right now.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Daddy’s going to make everything ok.”
