The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection Frost, J (good beach reads .TXT) 📖

smarter guys I know but, like my little girl, nothing holds his attention for long. Which is probably another reason Max and Emily get along so well. He’s not scatty, the way Emily calls herself. He’s hyper-focused, if anything. It’s just that the scope of his focus shifts much faster than the rest of us.

Thinking of my baby doll and her many hobbies makes me smile. Probably the first time I’ve smiled since I left Emily this morning. She brings such light into my life. I really need to do something big to show her how much she means to me.

I finish the estimate and fire it off to Glory. Still pondering grand gestures, I lock away my laptop and join Emily in the kitchen.

Chapter Three Emily

Daddy isn’t happy.

It’s not me, I don’t think. He’s very good at communicating with me. If I’ve done something to displease or annoy him, he lets me know.

Although we started the day with discipline, and he gave me lines to do while he was with Icky-Rick, everything’s been good since then. My treat for Daddy-little time today was a trip to Tompkins Square Park. Even though he’d been to the gym with Rick, Daddy did push-ups and pull-ups on the jungle-gym with another daddy from our playgroup, Warrin, who met us at the park with his little, until they were both sweaty and manly and the veins in their arms were standing out. Whew, arm porn. Then they had a long talk while I was a skateboarding ninja. I didn’t want to get in trouble for earwigging, so I didn’t listen in to their conversation, even though I love-love-love listening to Doms talk. But Daddy was smiling and laughing. When I did go over to them, they were talking about getting a puppy for Warrin’s little, Aggie. Daddy gave Warrin his business card before we left; it seemed like they hit it off.

After the park, we walked to the Union Street Market to pick up steaks for dinner. Even though it was a long walk, he wasn’t limping or leaning on me, so I don’t think his leg’s bothering him.

But something has the frowny line furrowing his forehead.

It could be the situation with Rachel, but I don’t think so. Once I’ve been disciplined, I’m forgiven. Daddy said he’s dealt with it and next month she’ll be gone from Blunts. That doesn’t sound like something that’s weighing on him.

It could be Daddy’s former sub, Miranda, and her baby. Everything’s been quiet on that front for a week since Daddy’s lawyer in Manchester got a court order forcing Miranda to get a paternity test. Daddy gets to choose the lab because Miranda’s a doctor and Daddy’s afraid that she’ll be able to falsify the results if she gets tested at the hospital where she works or at a lab where she knows someone. Daddy said he might force Miranda to come to America to get tested. He’s taken some calls in his office that I couldn’t hear over the last few days, so that might be it.

It could be what Rick wanted to see Daddy about. I overheard the part of their phone call where Rick asked Daddy not to bring me along. That was fine by me because I don’t like Rick very much, although I love his friend Daisy Blue and can’t wait to see her again at his party next week. When Daddy came back from Rick’s gym, he didn’t look as relaxed as he usually does after a workout. He was a little needy, too. Well, as needy as Daddy ever gets. Something about what Rick wanted bothered him, but he wasn’t wearing the frowny line like he is now.

It could be the thing Daddy doesn’t want me to know about: the medical bills from his surgery and hospital stay in San Diego. I saw the return address on the envelopes marked confidential that were in the mail when we got back. Logan’s self-employed, same as I am, and I know from when I slipped on ice and broke my ankle three years ago that the co-pays even on something like a single X-ray are insane. He was in surgery for five hours and in the hospital for four days. He had X-rays and MRIs and blood tests out the wazoo. He must owe a ton of money.

A couple of weeks ago the return address on the letters changed to EverCollect, and they began calling the house landline. They wouldn’t speak to me, or even tell me what they were calling about. Then Daddy answered the phone and I think he gave them his cell number because they haven’t called the house phone again. I know who they are and what they do. They’re pressuring Daddy to pay the medical bills. He doesn’t want me to worry about money, and I appreciate him taking adult concerns off my shoulders, but a little takes care of her daddy, too. When the cruise doctor told me Logan should be air-lifted to San Diego, I was prepared to sell one of my houses to pay for his care if he wasn’t insured. Nothing’s changed.

But Logan will never just agree to take money from me to pay his bills. I know my daddy better than that. I need to figure out a way to get him to accept the money while still submitting. If I really belong to him, then my money is his money and if he needs to use it to pay off his medical bills, he should. It’s even in our contract that all my assets belong to him.

But I know he really doesn’t see it that way.

I’m chopping up the tomatoes for a salad and watching Logan pace around the living room with his phone to his ear, talking to someone from his club, when a thought hits me that makes me drop the knife.

What if he’s thinking of selling a house to pay the medical bills, too? This house?

I