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I thank God for the rage, for the hatred I feel toward her when she closes her mouth and nods, because it’s so much more welcome than the devastation I felt all those years ago.
Part of me knows, though, that you don’t feel hatred for someone like that unless you used to love them.
Continue to read Damaged Secret Daddy…
CHAPTER 2
LILLIAN
Being late for work hasn’t helped matters, but I thought that Barry would cut me some slack. After all, he’d been working plenty of times when Max hung around for my shift. Felicia, the night manager, always lets me work with Max sitting in the corner booth, coloring.
Ineedthis shift. My rent is late, and although I’m working my way up in an advertising office, it doesn’t pay all the bills. Being a single mom is hard. And yes, this is the life I chose for myself, but some days, it’s nearly impossible.
The absolute last thing I expected, after the shitty morning I’ve had, is to run into Grayson Whitlock in a cheap diner that barely passes the health inspection score every month. He’s a billionaire, for God’s sake. What is he doing here, of all places?
“Lillian,” he says, and it sounds different than the way he used to speak to me five years ago, lilting and sweet, kissing along my jawline to wake me. It sounds… flat, somehow, devoid of any emotion. ”I think we need to talk.”
God, he looks the same. So handsome, so tall. I feel like I can barely breathe.
I guess he’s right about that. I nod my head slowly, and Max accompanies us to the corner booth while Barry just stares at us.
“If you’re going to sit there, you gotta buy something,” Barry says gruffly, and Grayson jerks his head toward him, glaring at him. “Bring us three specials.”
“Oh boy,” Max cheers. “I love the special.”
The special isn’t very special, just a plate of sausage and two biscuits drowned in sausage gravy, but Max does love it. He eats alot, just like Grayson always did. It’s something he got from his father along with piercing blue eyes and that dimple in his cheek. He’s the spitting image of Grayson, really, so it doesn’t surprise me that Grayson knows something is amiss the second he sees us.
What am I going to do? I never expected to have to reveal any of this. I certainly didn’t expect to have to reveal it in the diner where I pick up occasional shifts to cover bills. It’s embarrassing, really. I take a deep breath and sit down in the booth, Max sliding in next to me and looking at his father with curiosity.
“What’s your name?” he asks, and Grayson blinks, as if surprised.
“Grayson. Grayson Whitlock.”
“I’m Maximillian Brooks,” Max says proudly. “Max for short.”
Grayson clears his throat, ignoring me and looking at his son in awe, watching him play with the sugar packets, and it makes my heart ache.
“Grayson,” I start, but he glares at me, and I shut my mouth.
“Do you know who your father is, Max?”
My breath catches in my throat. Max has asked, of course, about his father, but I haven’t gotten so far as telling him.
Max shakes his head. “Mom says I don’t have one.”
“Is that so?” Grayson looks at me, and I swear if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the spot. “What if you did? Have a father, I mean?”
“Wow,” Max breathes. “That’d be great.”
“You think so?” Grayson smiles, his eyes turning back to Max. I wonder if he’ll ever smile at me like that again and shake my head.
Of course, he won’t. I don’t know if he ever has. Most of the time, I think our time together is some fever dream I had. I know that he didn’t feel the same way about me as I felt about him. The way Istillfeel, after all these years.
“Yeah. We could play catch and stuff. Mom’s not very good at catch,” Max says, looking at me from the corner of his eye as if he thinks I’ll be hurt by that statement.
“What if I told you that I was your father?” Grayson says, and again, my breath catches. I hadn’t planned on telling Max this way, or at all, but Grayson doesn’t seem to care what I want.
Max’s eyes widen, but he’s smiling. “Is that true? Mom, is it true?”
