Page 165 of Biggest Player
Hearing this told from a child’s perspective makes it sound so ... not great. It makes me sound like a colossal dipshit, bonehead, asshole, thoughtless prick. Take your pick; any of the adjectives work.
“It’s not every day you hear about someone paying a kid to sabotage a date. So much action.” Lydia tries to ease the tension between her husband and me, winking at her granddaughter conspiratorially.
“I know, Grandma. It was really fun, and I got that LEGO kit I wanted.” She takes a chug from her mocktail. “Ahhh.” Wipes her mouth.
“Goodness,thenwhat happened.”
“Then Mom came around the corner and busted us.”
Busted us.
“Well.” My girlfriend finds her voice. “I was looking for you, young lady. You were gone a long time.”
Her mother is studying me, but judging from her amused expression, she’s less offended by my actions than her husband is. I wonder if I’ll be able to win him over—or if I’m doomed for life.
I clear my throat. “Long story short, here we are, having dinner with you.”
“Quite honestly, after seeing the news stories, I texted Margot about meeting you. Every time one of my friends called to ask about it, I had no details.” Now Lydia sounds slightly put out.
The server comes and saves us all from more awkward conversation, and we order appetizers but not our entrées. I readjust myself in the chair—it has armrests and feels too small for my giant frame, the tops of my knees knocking the table with each movement.
Silverware clanks.
“What are your intentions toward my daughter?” Robert is staring at me from above his menu, doing his best to play the role of the intimidating father who only wants what’s best for his daughter.
“Dad!” Margot groans, rolling her eyes. “His intentions? What about my intentions, huh? Maybe I’m the one he has to watch out for, gold diggers and all that.”
That is a very good point!
“Well, someone has to ask the tough questions,” Robert replies, not breaking eye contact with me. “It’s a fair question.”
I clear my throat, trying to suppress a grin.
I’m onto him now—his bark is worse than his bite, and I don’t blame him for being a hard-ass. I mean, come on, look at me. I don’t come off as the boy next door. I’m well aware of the fact that:
I have a reputation in the media that’s probably well deserved.
I look like an asshole. It’s the haircut and the five-o’clock shadow, and the fact that I was born looking cocky certainly doesn’t help. It’s this million-dollar face—there is no helping it.
“Someone has to make sure this guy’s worthy of my little girl,” Robert goes on, protective dad and all that.
“Little girl? Dad, stop.” Margot is grinning at him, so I know her feathers aren’t actually ruffled. She’s playing along. “You do realize I’m a grown woman with a careeranda mortgage, right?”
“I appreciate your sentiment, Robert. Sir.” I’m trying to keep a straight face. “But you know Margot can handle herself—she did manage to wrangle me, after all.”
“Oh, I’m sure she did,” Lydia says, laughing. “She gets her sass from me.”
“I am not sassy,” Margot protests. “I’m spirited, and my bullshit meter comes from Dad.”
Robert sits up a bit straighter at the shout-out. “So, Dex.” He leans toward me, elbows on the table. “You’ve managed to survive our little interrogation so far. What makes you think you’re good enough for my Margot?”
Beside me, Margot almost chokes on her wine. “Dad!”
I thought we were through with this, but nonetheless, I take a deep breath, ready to lay it all out there.
No time like the present, eh?
“No, Margot, it’s cool.” A lump forms in my throat, and I feel like I’m on the spot, but it’s fine,everything is fine. I can do this—I can lay my soul bare, in front of her family, because I’m brave. I’m brave, dammit!
