My First Daddy (Dark Daddies 7) - Page 32

“Guys, this is Avery. Avery, these two gentlemen are from my marketing company.”

“Hi,” she says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Charmed,” John says, grinning at me and winking. “What, is this one half your age, Julian?”

“Seriously, we know you have an appetite, but come on,” Dave adds. “This is a little much.”

I glare at the assholes. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, right, sure,” Dave says, laughing. “Well, you two kids have fun, okay?”

They two guys wave and walk off, laughing as they go.

I sit back down, practically shaking with rage. Avery is staring down at the table, not saying a word.

“Look, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” she says, almost a whisper.

“No, it’s not. They’re fucking assholes and out of line. They think we’re friends and can say that kind of shit, but—”

“But, what?” she asks, suddenly looking up. “He was right. I am half your age.”

“Avery—”

“Oh, my god. I bet all these people are thinking that, aren’t they? But only those two are assholes enough to say anything.”

“Avery, no—”

“Do people know?” she asks, her eyes wide. “Back at the office, I mean. Do they know?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, shit.” She moves back and away. “I am half your age. I really am.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Really, Avery—”

“I have to go.”

She pushes from the seat and stands as fast as she can. I try to tell her to stop but she doesn’t listen. Cursing, I throw some cash down on the table, not really thinking about it, and jump up to chase after her.

Those fucking assholes. I bet they’re watching this and laughing right now. I know they came over just to make us uncomfortable. I mean, I’m still their fucking boss even if I don’t show up at work anymore. If they think they’re not going to pay for this, they’re fucking wrong.

I hurry outside, nearly toppling a waitress as I move through the crowd. Avery is hurrying down the block.

“Avery!” I hurry after her, not caring how I look. I dodge around a guy in a wheelchair and finally catch up with her half a block ahead.

“Leave me alone,” she says.

“Will you just slow down?”

“No.” She whirls around to face me, eyes angry, but at least she’s not running anymore. “Those assholes embarrassed me, Julian. And you know what? They’re right.”

“No, they aren’t,” I growl at her. I grab her arms and pull her against me.

She struggles a little, but I hold her tight.

“We can’t do this,” she says.

“We absolutely can and we’re going to.”

“Julian, I don’t know.”

“Listen to me.” I pull her back and stare into her eyes. “I don’t care what those assholes think. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks.”

“Maybe I do.”

That gets me. I flinch a little, but I don’t back down. “I think you’re lying.”

“What if I’m not? What if I care about what people think?”

“You don’t,” I say softly. “If you did, you wouldn’t be doing this at all. You’re more like me than you realize, Avery. You don’t give a fuck about anything else so long as it makes you happy and isn’t hurting anyone. Fuck what people think. We have each other and it feels good.”

She hesitates, biting her lip. “It feels good,” she echoes.

“God damn right.”

I pull her into a tight kiss and after a frosty moment, she kisses me back.

I hate those bastards back there, but when I pull back, I know one thing for sure.

Even if that was embarrassing, even if that sucked, this is making us stronger.

We aren’t perfect. I can see all the things that are standing in the way of her and me ever having something real. Fucking hell, her own mother hates me and thinks I’m a total asshole.

But I don’t care. None of it matters, not while I have Avery right here, right in my arms. I can feel myself tipping forward and I know I might never stop falling, and that thought feels so good.13AveryI feel like I’m going off to war.

“Just be honest,” Julian says.

“Easy for you to say,” I grumble. “You’re not the one about to get verbally abused.”

He laughs a little. “You can handle it. Just be strong. Haylee needs that.”

I bounce my leg nervously, pages clutched in my hands. Julian comes around his desk and sits in the chair next to me. He puts his hand on my knee and I stop jostling.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You’re ready.”

I nod. I know he’s right. It’s been a week since that incident in the restaurant at lunch, and in the last week we’ve been working together on this pitch.

I know what I need to say. I have it all mapped out in my head. I don’t know how she’ll react, but I have some good arguments stored away just for this situation. I’ve been spending nights over at Julian’s and he’s been helping me get set up.

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