Something is wrong.
The first couple days of my business trip, Lia is her usual, incredible self when I call her at night or between meetings. Her voice is soft and inviting in my ear, she tells me she misses me, asks if I'm taking stress breaks. Late at night, she sends me mirror selfies from our hotel suite wearing nothing but a scrap of yellow material that vaguely resembles panties—and purrs to me over the speakerphone while I jack myself raw in the bathroom.
But at some point, her tone loses its usual brightness. She sounds almost sad? Although she won't tell me why so I can fix it. No amount of gifts sent to her doorstep seems to help. Finally, she stops answering my calls altogether. I can't concentrate on a single thing. I can't think about anything but her, replaying our last ten conversations, trying to figure out if I missed something. How the hell have I fucked this up so fast?
I miss her. Beyond belief. I'm sick without her.
I was an idiot to think I could spend this much time away from Lia and not go berserk.
For someone so worried about giving me a heart attack, she's certainly got the damn thing firing on all cylinders in my chest. Good thing Eric almost never looks up from his phone or he would notice that I'm sweating bullets, even in the air conditioning of the charter club. As we wait to board my jet, my insides are in shreds. I've pulled some strings and sent a local cop to make sure Lia is safe and she's fine. Swimming in her lavish pool, meeting friends for lunch, going to the gym and the beach. Usual summer activities. Nothing that would prevent her from answering my calls, though.
If I don't hold her soon, I'm going to lose my head.
Unfortunately, a storm keeps us grounded half of Sunday night. By the time we're able to fly safely, it's Monday morning and my assistant calls to remind me of the round of golf I have schedule with John, Lia's father, in just a few hours. There's no way I can make it. I'm tied in knots and my legs feel like lead—not the ideal condition for a friendly golf game.
After we land, I call John to cancel from the tarmac.
My plan is to take Eric home and track down Lia.
I need to understand what's wrong and repair it. I need her to climb into my lap and whisper into my neck and make me feel whole. She's the only one who does.
I'm in love with her.
Jesus.
I'm in love with this eighteen-year-old who's been coming to my house since middle school, who has transformed into a young adult. I'm in love with her unique perspective, the way she cares, her giggle, her touch, her spontaneity and optimism. She's my little girl. She's my…girlfriend. She's mine. Why the hell has she cut me off?
John answers in my ear as I'm handing my luggage to our driver and climbing into the back of the limousine. "Hello, John—"
"I'm throwing the ol' clubs into my trunk as we speak," he says. "Our tee time at the club is eleven fifteen."
"Yeah," I sigh, rubbing my gritty eyes with my thumb and index finger. Eric slept on the flight, but I couldn't manage to close my eyes for a second. "Listen, about our game—"
"Bring Eric along, if you can. Lia is going to be there later on. They can hang out at the pool while we hit some balls."
My mouth snaps shut on the news that I can't make it.
Lia is going to be at the country club.
My entire objective today is to get her in front of me. To demand to know what I've done and how I can make it up to her. If the conversation has to happen at the country club, so be it. I don't care who knows about us anymore. In fact, I'm going to tell her father face to face. There will be some outrage and gossiping and a tough reaction from Eric, but Lia is more than worth it. I'm going to have her in my life forever. The sooner people start getting used to seeing this old ogre with his beautiful, young angel, the better. I'm in love with this girl. Real, heart-rending love that I've never experienced before—and I'm not willing to let her go.
With Eric's agreement, we land and go straight to the club.
I'm like a caged animal as soon as we're dropped off at the entrance, an attendant bustling around me, informing me they've coordinated with my housekeeper to have my golf clubs and attire brought to the club and have arranged it all in the locker room. Eric quickly throws on a pair of trunks and heads to the pool, throwing me a wave. Instead of going in the direction of the course, I follow behind Eric and—from a distance—look for Lia at the pool, but I don't see her. Is she changing? Or avoiding me?
John claps me on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy. Ready to go?"
I turn to find Lia's father there, looking oddly nervous, his cart idling behind him. Given no choice, I nod. "Yeah," I grunt, taking a seat in the passenger side. "Let's go."
At the very least, this round of golf will give me a chance to explain my relationship with Lia. Getting into her pretty little head will have to wait a few hours, until we're done with the front nine and stop for a break.
We tee off and make small talk while playing the first two holes. It's while we're preparing to begin hole three that I figure out why John is nervous. Why he wanted to play golf with me—on a Monday—in the first place. And it's for a reason I never could have suspected.
"Listen, man." He swallows, looks around. "I've gotten myself into kind of a jam. I had three bad quarters in a row. I managed to pad the fund's earnings with my own money, make it look like we're above water, but the truth is…I'm sinking. I'm fucked." To my utter shock, tears spring to the man's eyes. "We're going to lose the house. Lia…she's running around getting ready for college. She must think I'll be able to come up with the tuition—"
"Lia knows you're broke?" I ask hollowly.
John nods sadly. "I told her a month ago school might not happen. For some reason, she insists on proceeding as if she'll move out in the fall, attend the university." He rakes a hand through his hair. "Maybe she's in denial."
No.
She's not in denial.
She found a desperate old man to pay her way.
And as soon as she got enough money together for tuition, she dropped me.
Christ, that's what happened, isn't it? None of her affection was real.
She needed cash. Fast.
I was the perfect target. Old, overweight, horny. Grateful for the chance to fuck something so young and tight. Desperate to soak up her light.
My chest is on the verge of caving in and John is still talking.
Asking me to bail him out.
"Enough," I rasp, hating him mid-sentence. "I'm not throwing gasoline on a sinking ship. But we'll absorb your firm, slash the fat and keep what's working right. You'll receive slightly more than what the company is worth, since we go back a long time. I'll give you a seat on the board of directors, but before any of this happens, my accountant is going through your personal finances, along with those of the firm. No surprises."
John grinds his jaw. "You're a hard man." He stares off into the distance for a moment, then offers his hand for a shake. "But a fair one. Thank you."
I'm doing this for Lia.
I'd do anything for her, even though she has ripped my heart out of my chest.
She played me.
The part I don't understand is this. Why did she suffer through all those nights together when I would have just paid her tuition? As a friend and father figure? I never would have let her miss out on college. She didn't have to sacrifice her virginity to my ugly ass.
John and I agree that we're not really in the mood to continue the game and go back to the clubhouse. When we reach the establishment, he leaves to meet with the house pro about one of his clubs and we make plans to have a drink together in an hour. My throat is ravaged on the inside, the bleak exhaustion I used to feel every day before Lia became my sugar baby creeping back in.
I take a seat on the shaded outdoor patio and order a double scotch, neat, still reeling from the revelation that she never really cared for me at all. She faked everything.
God, I want to claw the pathetic organ out of my chest, it aches so fucking bad.
And then I see her at the pool.
In a little white thong bikini.