Chapter Eight
Evan
There had been no reason for me to stay at Lavo after Scarlett left. Of course, Lily had run a mile when she’d seen me there. Who wanted to hang out at the club with their dad? It had been a shame, though.
I’d have loved to hang back and watch the girls. Scarlett had been fucking hot in that little black dress she’d been wearing, with her slender legs looking longer than long, her elegant body balanced precariously on those high heels, and her tits pushed up and ready for viewing.
And she had this thing she did with her hair where she flipped it over her shoulder whenever she became self-conscious. It made me want to bury my hands in her hair and grip it, pulling back her head so that I could kiss her. Or fuck her mouth.
God, that pretty little mouth.
It had been the most beautiful thing on God’s green earth to see her shoot Jeff down like that. The guy was a slime ball, but seeing Scarlett reject him had been an ego boost that had shot confidence all the way down to my dick. She had never rejected me. She hadn’t even tried.
Yes, there was a lot of money involved, but somehow, I doubted she would look at Jeff the way she looked at me, no matter how much money was on the table.
But then she’d left, and I’d stood there like an oversexed, overdressed idiot. I’d looked around and noticed that Jeff had been closer to being “hip” with his shirt tucked in–guys were doing that again, apparently–than I had been with my untucked shirt and my loafers.
The party scene wasn’t my thing anymore, not the way it used to be. I much preferred going to a cocktail bar where I could charm a woman with my words. I was good at talking them out of their pants. Grinding against them until they wanted to go home with me just wasn’t my thing.
Jeff and I had gone our separate ways last night, and I’d gone home. I’d only been there for Scarlett. I would never have told her that, though. I didn’t want her to know that I was checking up on her. God, that would mean that I wanted more than just ass from her.
Which I did. I wanted a child from her. But this emotional shit? Overrated. I just wanted to be sure she didn’t put away a little dick on the side when I wasn’t looking.
That had been what it was, for sure.
I got out of bed and took a shower. I stood under the hot spray, thinking about Scarlett. I soaped up my body, running my hands over myself. My cock was hard with her on my mind, and I ran my hands up and down my shaft a couple of times, cupping my balls, which were heavy for her. I wanted to release inside of her again.
God, there was nothing better than fucking her until I came inside of her, pumping my seed into her, working to get her pregnant.
When I got out of the shower, I picked up my phone and dialed her number. It rang for a while before she answered.
“Hey,” she said in a soft voice.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“I can’t talk now,” Scarlett said. “I’m still with Lily. I stayed over at her place last night.”
“Oh, right,” I said.
“I’ll call you later, when I get home, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, nodding even though she couldn’t see me, and she hung up.
With Lily not knowing, we were sneaking around like teenagers. It was ironic because Lily was my daughter. I was old enough to do whatever the fuck I wanted, and I didn’t owe her an explanation. But I didn’t know how to tell her that I wanted a baby, and Scarlett was her best friend. It was closest to the worst-case scenario when it came to taboo.
It was easier to keep it from her right now. It would have to come out eventually, of course. One Scarlett was pregnant, it would be hard to hide as time went on, and the baby wouldn’t exactly be something I could hide.
But I would cross that bridge when I got there.
I got dressed, putting on khaki pants, a polo shirt, and sneakers. I loaded my golf clubs into the car and drove out to the country club.
Siwanoy Country Club was one of many in the area. The Manhattan elite liked hanging around on the golf course, acting like hitting a little ball from one hole to the next, only to follow it around, was something important. But my dad had been at the Siwanoy, so I was there, too.
When I arrived, Jeff’s car was already parked in the parking lot. I got out and made my way to the clubhouse. with its immaculate front garden, its clean interior, and the air of sophistication that hung in the air whenever the rich gathered in one place.
Jeff was at the bar drinking a Bloody Mary. I assumed that was what it was. Jeff just wasn’t the type to drink tomato juice when there wasn’t vodka involved.
I walked over to him.
“Jesus, Jeff, it’s ten in the morning. Bit early for a drink, isn’t it?”
Jeff shrugged. “Are you the fun police suddenly?” he asked.
I blinked at him.
“First, you’re cockblocking me at the club, and now, you’re telling me I can’t have my morning fruit juice?”
I laughed. Fruit juice.
“You’re a real asshole,” I said.
He grinned. “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.
I sat with him until he finished his drink, not taking the liberty to order one for myself. We headed out to the course. I wasn’t planning on staying late and playing all eighteen holes. I’d just wanted to get out a little bit.
“So, you want to tell me what last night was all about?” Jeff asked, lining up his golf ball and practicing his swing a few times to the side.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“That woman you were so protective over. I mean, she’s fucking hot, so I get you, but since when don’t you share?”
I watched him pull back and take the shot for real this time. The ball didn’t go where he’d planned.
“Fuck,” he said.
“She’s a family friend,” I said. “One of Lily’s friends.”
“So?” Jeff asked. “She can still be fucked.”
I was suddenly irritated. Scarlett wasn’t just some woman Jeff could drool over for the night.
“There are so many women out there,” I pointed out. “If I feel like fucking, I have an unlimited selection.”
Jeff chuckled. “Glad you see it my way. But there’s nothing wrong with getting into this one’s pants, too.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that. She’s been asking me for a job.”
It would be good to stick to the same story we’d told Lily, in case word got out. Consistency was good.
Not that Jeff would remember shit about the women he’d been with once it was over. He knew who he’d fucked so he would never do the same girl twice, but other than that, all information was irrelevant.
I positioned myself behind the ball and lifted my club. I swung, letting the club follow through in an arc. The ball flew across the fairway and landed close to the green.
“Fuck you, man,” Jeff said. “You’ve always been better at this.”
We packed our clubs and started walking, following the path our balls had taken. What was the fucking point of this game again?
“Okay, so I’ll give her a job,” Jeff said as we walked.
I glanced at him. “What now?”
“You said she wanted a job. I need a new secretary. The one I had left because I wouldn’t fuck her again or some shit. Some women are so needy.”
I shook my head. “You and I both know that’s not happening.”
Jeff stopped and frowned at me. “You her guardian or something?” he asked. “I’m offering to employ her. That’s what she wanted, right?”
I cleared my throat. “She has a Master’s degree. The position won’t suit her. You got anything better than that?”
I prayed he didn’t. Jeff thought about it.
“Nah,” he said. “I don’t employ women for anything bigger than a secretary, anyway. Women shouldn’t be allowed in the workplace. They’re good for a few things, but business isn’t one of them. Know what I mean?”
He grinned at me, and I chuckled, even though the bastard wasn’t funny. Now wasn’t the time to question his sexism. I wanted him to keep his paws off Scarlett. I wanted him to get the idea of her out of his head.
“You’re very protective of her,” Jeff said again.
I shook my head. “She means a lot to my daughter.”
Jeff nodded slowly, and I didn’t know if he bought it.
“So, did you go home with anyone last night?” I asked. A sure-fire way to change the topic was to ask him about himself. The only thing Jeff loved more than pussy was himself. If he could talk about it, it made him happy.
“You know it,” Jeff said, grinning. We found his ball, and he positioned himself again, glancing in the direction he wanted to go. “There’s no way I’m going home without a woman with that many honeys around.”
I watched him swing. It was a little better this time, closer to mine.
“This is bullshit,” Jeff said. “Why do I let you talk me into playing? I hate this game.”
“So, you can tell me about the women you fuck,” I said.
Jeff grinned at me, and we walked toward my ball.
“You should have seen her, man. She looked like a Playboy Bunny. I should have dressed her up as one before I stripped her down again. But there hadn’t been time for that, exactly. God, she’d been eager, biting my earlobes in the cab.”
That was a visual I could have done without. Jeff was a real piece of work. He fucked women at a rate that even I found excessive, and that was saying something. It was a new woman almost every night if he could make it happen. Which, most of the time, he could. His number was a blur, and it was a miracle he didn’t have a bunch of kids scattered across New York. Or maybe he did, and none of the women had wanted to contact him again.
Jeff was a lot of things, but responsible and caring didn’t come close. He wasn’t exactly father material. He’d been married twice to women that had stripped him bare without an iron clad pre-nup, and both times, he’d rebuilt himself. Other than that, he fucked and fucked some more.
I couldn’t live like that. I didn’t know how he did it, and I didn’t want to know.
I was just relieved that we weren’t talking about Scarlett anymore. I didn’t want him even thinking about her. Protective? Yes. I was starting to be. But I was paying good money for her to be my baby’s mother, and she was, for all intents and purposes, mine.
And no one else could play with what was mine.