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For that reason, then, Isaac was avoiding going home. For one thing, he had allergies, and now that the kitten was roaming his house, all its skin cells and saliva and fur would be shedding around the place, and Isaac would get sick immediately. It felt like his home had been invaded. Which was exactly how he felt about his aunt living on his family ranch.
Damn.
He needed a drink.
He swung into the Dade-D Bar — a Daddies-Inc-owned age-play drinkery in Miami-Dade — looking for a familiar face. Cindy was working behind the bar but Montague and Bastion weren’t here. Montague rarely came out now he had Daisy to look after. It’s not like Isaac was annoyed about that. He got it. Daddies had a responsibility toward their Littles. And Daisy had been through so much with her ex. It was good that Montague was caring for her so well. It’s just… well, the three of them used to be like the three amigos. Single and ready to mingle. Talking business, shooting the shit, necking drinks, and going to clubs together. Without Montague, Bastion and Isaac never seemed to make the effort to meet up socially. Montague was like the glue that had kept them all together.
“How’s it going, boss?” asked Cindy. “Long day?”
Isaac smiled. “Is it that obvious?”
Cindy knew what Isaac liked to drink, and poured him a martini on the rocks, decorated with an olive. The Littles never drank alcohol here. They came for the freakshakes. Cindy made the most decadent drinks around. But after the day Isaac had had, he needed something strong.
“So, what’s up?” Cindy asked him.
“Oh, you know,” said Isaac. He was never one to discuss his problems with other people. “Just… business.”
He had to try and think of it like that. That’s all this stuff with his aunt was: business. He’d gone to her with an offer. She’d made a counter-offer. Her counter-offer was ridiculous. He’d left.
That’s just how it goes in the world of business.
You win some, you lose some.
Isaac wasn’t fooling anyone though, least of all himself. He felt like shit.
“You look almost as miserable as her,” said Cindy, pointing at a Little in the corner of the room. Isaac caught sight of the back of her. She wore her strawberry blond hair in bunches. Her clothes were all pastel-colored and plastered with cartoon characters. Isaac was a Daddy Dom, but he had never been into cutsey Littles like that. He preferred quiet Middles, or occasionally Littles who were so far regressed they just drank their milk and crawled about and never said a word. Littles like the one over there, sucking her thumb and sulking about something — they were trouble.
Just then, the Little he was staring at turned around.
“Wait,” he said, “I recognize her.”
“That’s Daisy’s friend Peach,” said Cindy. “She’s been in here for hours. She’s had three freakshakes and I’m worried she’s gonna barf all over my nice velvet chairs.”
Isaac looked at the girl, who had that daft dog of hers perched on her lap, and he felt his hands ball into fists. “Leave it to me.”
He marched toward the girl, ready to tell her that it was time to leave. Not only had she had enough to drink, but she’d also brought her dog into another Daddies Inc establishment. It’s not that dogs weren’t allowed in the bar… but there was no sign that said that theywere.
“Hey,” said Isaac. “Peach isn’t it?”
Peach looked up at him, and it was clear that she’d been crying. Heaps.
Immediately, Isaac felt a rush of protective energy. Okay, so sexually, his preference was for Littles who were a lot less high-maintenance than this one, but he was still a Daddy deep down. And Littles needed looking after.
His tone softened. “I’m Isaac. We met the other day. Daisy’s friend, right?”
Peach shrugged.
“Mind if I sit here a moment?” Isaac asked, pulling out a chair.
Peach’s posture stiffened. She put her arms around her dog protectively. “Are you going to throw me out again, sir? The woman behind the bar said it was fine to bring my dog in here. Teddy’s harmless. And he’s very clean, even though he doesn’t necessarily look it—“
“What’s up, Little girl?” Isaac cut in as gently as possible. “Cindy tells me you’ve been downing milkshake like there’s no tomorrow, and you look… well, frankly, you look a little lost.”
Peach screwed up her nose. “Why do you care? You were very rude to me the other day. You clearly hate me and my dog.”
Isaac could already feel his nose tingling and his eyes itching. Goddammit. There was no escape from little furry critters these days. He moved his chair back a little, getting some more distance between him and the allergens.
“I don’t hate your dog,” said Isaac. Which was mostly true. He didn’thatecats and dogs. He just hated the effect they had on him. And maybe, over the years, he’d come to demonize them because of that. Who the hell knew? He wasn’t a psychologist. “But I don’t believe dogs should be allowed in public places unless they’re dogs for the blind.”
