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I finger spell ‘playboy’.
His stare moves from my fingers to my face. “Definitely not a compliment.”
“Who cares what I think? You have money, right? That’s everything.”
“Money is boring.”
“Spoken like someone who has too much of it.”
There. That smile. The handsome one that softens his beautiful face and makes a certain area of my body light up like a Christmas tree.
“I meant, money is a convenience. It’s not a personality.”
Rather than answer, I take a sip of my drink.
Dare’s stare is heavy.
I decide to share more since he seems open to it. “I think there should be consequences.”
“Suggestions?” he signs.
I purse my lips in thought. “Some kind of community service. Exposure to the disenfranchised would be ideal, but maybe not safe. A beach clean-up is fine. As long as it’s clear what the punishment is for.”
“A lesson and a punishment,” he signs.
“‘We don’t speak to people that way. We don’t push our friends. We don’t hurt others because we’re upset’. It’ll get the point across.”
He rubs his chin, clearly torn. When he glances at me, he signs, “She won’t be happy.”
“No one’s happy with a punishment.” I lean forward. “Spoiling your niece is not loving her. You want her to avoid getting into trouble in the future. You’re not helping her with that by over-sheltering her. I find that kind of coddling to be disrespectful to her intelligence.”
I expect him to get defensive, angry.
Instead, his lips twitch.
“You’re really not holding back, are you?” he signs.
“It’s your choice, but I want you to think of more than right now. The lesson you teach your niece today, how will it shape her in the next ten years? What happens when she’s a more developed teenager with this kind of attitude?” I add a little attitude of my own when I sign, “Unless you’re saying that nothing is wrong with what she did.”
“I know better than to answer that,” he signs with a laugh.
I take a sip of my latte and release the straw. “Pretend you don’t know better and answer anyway.”
He doesn’t reply for a long time, but the longer he waits, the more endearing he becomes. His hesitation is about what signs he’ll choose, not about the truth. I can tell, and that’s another thing I begrudgingly admire about him. He’s not perfect, but he’s also not pretending to be. He’s honest. A straight shooter. What you see is what you get.
“I know there’s an issue here, but it’s one I need to solve. Talia is my niece. My responsibility. I couldn’t pass that responsibility over to the school. Even if I did, they can’t teach her how to treat people. They can’t show her what she did was wrong. Once isn’t enough to break a cycle. It needs to come from home.”
“From you?” I remember how he winced when I suggested he be the ‘bad cop’. I got the feeling he would have botched that job if we’d gotten to speak to Talia at school.
“And you, I hope.”
I jerk back in surprise. “Come again?”
“Y-o-u.” He fingerspells.
“Me? Why do you need me?”
“Good cop.” He points at me. “Bad cop, remember?”
