Penthouse Prince(21)
He shoots back the laughing so hard you’re crying emoji before switching back to real words.
Seriously, though. The food, the finger-painting, everything. You’re magical. You’re like freaking Mary Poppins or something. I don’t know what I would have done without you today. I owe you big-time.
I picture myself floating through the sky on a magic umbrella, waving at a chimney-sweep version of Lexington below. It actually makes me laugh out loud. I shake my head, still chuckling to myself as I type out my reply.
IDK, I don’t have a magical bag like Mary Poppins does, but I guess I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.
His response comes almost immediately.
Yeah? I can’t wait to see.
I stare at his text, reading and rereading it. Am I overthinking this, or did that seem vaguely flirty? And worse yet, did I kind of like it?
No. Bad Corrigan.
I’d better stop this thing before it starts. And the best way to do that is to keep this all work, no play.
I’m headed to bed. Let’s discuss schedules and payment tomorrow.
I hit SEND, congratulating myself on my save. Good work, me. Nothing cutesy or flirty about discussing wages.
But once again, my phone buzzes with a reply that throws me off.
You’ll be worth every dime. Sweet dreams.
With a sigh, I flip on DO NOT DISTURB mode and set my phone facedown on my nightstand.
Tomorrow is a new day with a fresh perspective, and hopefully, it’ll bring some answers with it. Luckily, I think I know just where to go to get them.
? ? ?
While Lexington was off having a real-life baby, my big brother, Dak, had a baby of his own. A two-thousand-square-foot baby complete with a pool table and the lingering scent of cheap beer and fried food. Yes, my brother is the proud owner of one of the most popular bars along the beach, and he treats that thing like it’s his child.
It’s just after two in the afternoon when I push open the door and step into the dimly lit Dak’s Place, scanning the bar for its namesake. A handful of lifeguards are at a booth near the back having a late lunch, and a few regulars are making good use of the pool table, but the big crowd won’t come for a few hours yet. Which means my brother has plenty of time to chat, and hopefully put a few of my questions to rest.
“What’s up, li’l sis?” Dak waves to me with a dishrag from behind the bar. “Did you come to help me dry dishes?”
“Actually, I’m here for cheese fries. But I’m happy to help out.”
As I hop up onto a bar stool, Dak calls out my order to the cook, then tosses me a dishrag of my own. He grabs a few freshly washed pint glasses and slides them across the bar, which is built entirely out of repurposed surfboards. With its chill, beachy vibes, Dak’s has become sort of a staple for both tourists and townies.
“So, how’s the summer-break life?”
“I slept in till eight fifteen this morning,” I say, unable to keep myself from bragging as I grab a pint glass and stuff the towel inside. “So I’m practically a night owl now, right?”
My brother, who famously slept in well past noon every weekend of high school, chuckles. “Congrats, you made it past the ass crack of dawn, you psycho. I don’t know how you survive those five a.m. alarms during the school year.”
I let the jab go. It’s all part of the brother-sister banter that’s normal for us. “How are things here?” I gesture to the bar, noting that it’s even cleaner than usual. “It looks great in here, by the way.”
His eyes brighten. “I have to keep it looking good since Lex is swinging by soon. I can’t believe he’s never been in this place.”
“And I can’t believe he has a daughter.” I meet Dak’s eyes, and his brows scrunch together.
“You didn’t know about Grier?”
I shake my head. How is he surprised right now? Every time Lexington’s name’s been brought up for the past several years, I’ve shut the conversation down, as fast as I possibly could.
“How long have you known?” I ask.
Dak’s lips form a tight line as he flips through the calendar in his brain. “Two months before she was born, I think. Maybe three. I just remember that they let the gender be a surprise. Personally, I was hoping for a boy so they could name him Dak Junior.”
“They? So Grier’s mom was closely involved?”
A snicker leaks out from behind his smug smile. “Uh, yeah, she was involved. Do you know how babies are made? It takes two to tango, you know..”
I roll my eyes so hard, I’m slightly nervous they may never come back down. “You know what I mean, Dak. I’m asking what the story is. You know, was she a girlfriend? Or . . . a wife?”
“What’s it matter to you?” His tone is gruff as he folds his arms over his toned chest. “For the past ten years you’ve practically plugged your ears every time I mentioned Lex. Now you suddenly want to know all the dirty details of his life. What gives?”
Okay, so I guess he did notice that.
I straighten and finish drying another glass. Play it cool, Corrigan. “I think it’s reasonable to want to know the origin story of the little girl I’m suddenly responsible for.”
Dak lifts a brow, his lips barely hinting at a smile. “So you took the nannying gig?”
“I guess so.”