The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection by Frost, J (great novels .txt) 📕

“I’m not judging you, Em—”

“You are! You keep saying that you can’t watch Logan hurt me, but you don’t understand what hurt is. Hurt is being married for five years and never once having an orgasm because your husband didn’t love you enough to give you what you needed. Hurt is hiding, every single day, how you feel inside and not being yourself and never feeling free because you don’t have a daddy to make rules and keep you safe. Hurt is feeling so alone in the world that you can’t face another day and have to cut yourself to let the pain out before you explode. That’s what hurt is. So, don’t tell me you can’t watch Logan hit me because that is not hurt, Max.”

Everyone just stares at my little girl for a moment, including Max.

“Fuck.” Max opens his arms and Emily immediately goes to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and giving him a huge hug. That seals it. He’s a daddy. She’d never do that with a top like Javier or Rick. She does it because he’s a daddy and she’s a little and daddies need to nurture and comfort as much as littles need to be nurtured and comforted.

Max lays his cheek on the top of Emily’s hair and whispers to her, “Sorry, girlie-girl. I didn’t realize what I was doing.”

“Be a Xavier, Max,” she says into his chest.

“I’ll try my hardest.”

“And have some of my eggplant chips.”

I snort and have to cover it with a cough.

“Fuck, no,” says Max.

“They’re fried,” Emily coaxes.

“They’re a vegetable.”

“So’s a potato. Same thing.”

“Really not.”

“They’re fucking awesome, though,” Austin interjects, holding a plate of fried eggplant out into the middle of the circle. “Seriously, Emily, I don’t know what you do to them.”

“Salt and dry them first,” Emily says, stepping back from Max and tucking herself back against my side. I kiss the top of her head so she knows how proud I am of her, before I take a handful of eggplant crisps from the plate and pop the crunchy handful into my mouth.

The group breaks up after that, with Rick leading Lucy to the couch to sit next to Daisy, who was watching Emily take on Max with a great deal more interest than the ballgame. Daisy winks at me before she turns back around to face the telly.

* * *

During the seventh-inning stretch, with the Yankees two runs up, I drag Rick, Manny, and Max into my office and update them. I’ve tried Dovie Donegan three more times since breakfast and the call’s gone to voice mail every time. Either she’s a really late riser or she’s dodging the call.

“Don’t worry,” Max says. “With a full name, address and phone number, I’ll get you every number the girl’s ever had by tomorrow night. She’ll answer one of them before long. And there probably aren’t too many Laurels that work for DC lobbyists who use Manning, Dermont, and Castillo for pension services. I’ll track her down.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. How does he know what a lobbyist would want from Pedro Castillo’s firm?

“I was curious,” he says with a shrug.

“Good job, hermano,” Manny says, giving Max a whack on the back that earns Manny a scowl from Max. Manny benches 380 and throws it around without much caution.

Rick leans back against the edge of my desk and crosses his arms over his Armani-covered chest. “Yeah, good job, both of you. Logan, man, the shit you turn up never ceases to amaze me. Still, Glory’s pissing in my ear. Traffic to my site’s down a third in two days.”

“Let me find this girl and make sure you’re insulated from a rape charge and that she’s not a psycho. Then you and Glory can decide how best to capitalize on the publicity. My first concern’s your safety, Rick. This is all a complete waste of time if you get hurt or end up in jail.”

Rick scratches the back of his neck, where his hair is curling over his collar. Is he growing a fucking mullet? Standing with the three of us, all ex-military and sporting crew-cuts, he looks like a hippy.

“I hear you, man,” he says to me. “Keep up the good work. Look, this is what I pay Glory for, but I get that not everyone agrees with her. Daisy had a fuck-ton to say on the way over, too. She says people in the industry have longer memories than I realize. She thinks I need to do more than shut it down. I need to get Evonne or Laurel or whatever her name is to support me publicly.”

Fuck, that’s a big leap from finding the woman and shutting her up.

“What, like print a retraction or something?” Max asks.

“Yeah, something like that. A statement where she says she misunderstood the situation and now that we’ve gotten together again, she realizes it was all consensual.”

I can’t see that happening, but this is getting way ahead of where we need to be. “Okay, that’s a goal to work towards, but we’ve got to find her first. That’s the priority.” I rub my fingertips up and down on the scar on my forehead, then pull my hand away before I turn into bloody Harry Potter. “Rick, something I need you to understand. If Laurel really is in DC, I’m probably going to need to go meet her. I’m not cleared to fly yet, so I’ll have to drive or take the train. I’ll be a couple of days. I’m not leaving Emily here while I go to DC. She needs to come with me. I’m not saying I’m going to tell her what’s going on, just that she needs to come with me.”

Rick lifts one shoulder uncomfortably.

“Why doesn’t Emily know already?” Max asks, his voice dropping to a rumble.

“Because it’s none of her business,” Rick snaps.

I hold up a hand. “Rick hasn’t authorized any disclosure outside the three of us and I’m fine with that.