Page 64 of Sugar Daddies


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He shrugged. “Find some other way to fulfil your dreams, something that your heart is in.”

“But I…” I blustered. “I’d be good. I could work hard. I could do really well.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Bite me, baby.That’s how you choose to attend an interview?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t come here for an interview, I came here to tell my stupid father to get stuffed.”

“By dressing like a petulant teenager?”

I tipped my head against the back of the chair. “Something like that.”

He checked his watch again. “I really should leave, Katie. I have somewhere to be.”

I looked between him, and the door, and the file he’d left on the desk, and I went for it, darted like a snake to the application form he’d put away, and fumbled around the place looking for a pen.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “It’s already been decided.”

I kept looking, but there was nothing, not even a crappy pencil. What kind of useless as shit meeting room was this supposed to be? I sighed. “Give me a pen, please.”

He stood quietly for a few seconds, staring. I held my hand out, waiting.

And then he reached in his inside pocket and pulled out a pen. “This doesn’t change anything,” he said. “This programme is for people who really want to be there.”

“Just button it a minute,” I said, and my fingers were scrawling.

“This isn’t going to affect my decision, Katie. I’m sorry.”

But he was wrong.

Wrong about my dad, and wrong about me, too.

I continued regardless, scribbling and scrawling through all the questions, and he didn’t move, didn’t leave, didn’t say another word to distract me.

I finished and closed the pen lid, handed him the form with a flourish of triumph.

I watched his face as he read it, watched his eyes. Watched the way he looked at me, and then looked at me again, over and over.

“So?” I said. “What now?”

He pulled out his car keys, held them up. “I’m going to Cheltenham, like I said. I have people waiting.” He opened the door, swung it wide. And then he held it there, open. “It’s where the internship is based,” he said. “You’d better come with me.”

“I’ll check,” he said. “I’ll check everything on that form. I always check.”

“Be my guest. I’m not a liar.”

“I’d certainly hope not.” His eyes dug into me, made my knees feel weak as we made our way through reception. Everyone looked. Everyone.

The automatic doors swooshed open and we stepped outside. He pressed his key fob and I heard the bleep of the Range. I’d walked straight past it on the way in without noticing, in prime position to the left of the main entrance. I can’t believe I hadn’t fucking noticed that. Idiot.

“I’ve got my car,” I said. “I can follow you.”

He shook his head. “Get in. I’m driving.”

I didn’t argue.

I watched his face as he reversed from the space, grateful for the opportunity to check him out when he was otherwise occupied. Scary hot. Scarier hot now I’d seen him in his natural environment.

“They are impressive stats,” he commented. “Quite impressive.”

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