Page 8 of vKissed By the Bartender

“Daddy!”, a little voice calls from behind me. I look behind me and see a little girl jumping into my arms. I'm her daddy. She belongs to Candice and me.

Shortly after the child leaps from my arms and into the arms of her mother, two other tots, twins, just slightly older than the girl, walk into the room.

Their smiles are infectious, and they look just like their mother.

It was a happy picture. As much as I knew that this was a dream, I try to will it into reality.

My eyes fly open as the buzz of my phone wakes me up. I roll towards my nightstand and see that it was morning.

I gulp down some water from the bottle that stood there as I check my phone. I had a text from Patrick.

Doctor Bartender! I wanted to be the first to tell you that Oliva and I are expecting our first child.

I smile a little. I already knew this since Olivia had secretly told me in the bar. But I didn’t want to rain on his parade by telling him that I probably knew before he did.

Congratulations you two. I’m so happy for you both.

I smile as I get out of bed and throw my pants on.

After getting a cup of coffee, I scroll through my daily news feed. I ignore all the ads from tabloids and similar paparazzi-driven sites.

I’m mostly in it for the weather.

Usually, I scroll past the ads on celebrity gossip, but when I see Candice's face pop up, I have to click on it.

I’m shocked to see what’s written about her.

Chapter 5

candice

Isit in disbelief in my room. I was sent an online article by my manager, my mother, my publicist, and just about everyone who has my personal email. It’s a farce of course, but that doesn’t matter. People will believe anything.

Candy Barr, aka Candice Barron, has fled to her small hometown in Vermont to escape the public eye. Considering the recent discovery of her illegitimate pregnancy, star Candy Barr is hiding out until a decision is made regarding her career and the fate of her unborn bastard child.

We will update you as soon as we know more.

There’s an unflattering photo of me attached showing my stomach seeming bigger or rather more bloated than usual. I’m devastated and I melt into a puddle of salty hot tears.

Someone knocks on my door. I’m not expecting anyone. I wipe my tears quickly and walk towards the door. I’m half afraid that there might be paparazzi on the other side but I take my chances and open the door.

“David Roe, the owner of the inn, is a good friend of mine. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked him for your room number when I ran into him at the front desk,” Joseph says with his arms open.

I run into them.

“It’s not true Joe, it’s not,” I say, the tears pouring out again.

His arms are the only thing comforting me, and I melt into them.

“I know. People are awful,” he says as he closes the door behind us.

“Will you stay with me today?” I hear myself asking him.

“I can stay until I have to go to work this afternoon,” he replies sweetly.

“I’ll take it.” I smile at him.

He sits on the chair beside my bed. I slide onto the foot of my bed, and we chat for a while. Mostly about the outrageous article. I can’t imagine where they would have even come up with something like that.

---