Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Me:
Smart woman!
Andy:
She’s the smartest woman I know.
Awww, he loves his mom so much.
My vagina gets a tad tingly despite having firmly instructed it: Andy is not a viable candidate for the love of my life, and we will not be dating him. Or banging him.
Or traveling to see him.
Save that tingling sensation for the man I’m going to date in real life, not across the country.
Period, point blank.
Suddenly I hear my dad in the office. His voice is cackling, and he bellows, “You live where? Thailand?!”
Thailand?
What?
No.
Dad—no.
I toss my cell onto my counter and beeline for the hallway, stick my head through my office door in time to hear Shirley say, “I don’t live here, I’m visiting. I’m originally from Chicago but moved to Florida, and now my son needed me here. When I fly home, I’ll go visit friends in Detroit.”
Huh?
None of that makes sense. And she has an accent that is distinctly not American.
“Dad—end that call.”
He swivels in my desk chair. “Harlow, I’m talking to my new friend.”
“This woman is full of shit.” I take four steps into my office and shut the laptop, ending his phone call with Shirley—or whoever that woman was on the other end. “That was a scam. How could you not hear it in her voice? She sounded like she was from Europe.” Or somewhere I couldn’t easily identify. “Chicago and Florida my ass.”
“That was so rude!” he admonishes. “You don’t just hang up on someone!”
“You do when they’re lying to you.” I pause, face getting red. “First rule of online dating—don’t always take everything at face value. You have no idea who anyone is until you’ve met them in person, and even then, they could be lying.”
Dad looks at me blankly, appearing small and discouraged.
Crap. I made him feel bad.
“What’s the second rule?” he asks.
“Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.”
His brow furrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means don’t just talk to one person, talk to several at a time so you don’t get emotionally invested too fast and get your heart broken.”
“Is there a third one?”
I have to think about this question but only for a second.
“Yes. Ask questions, and take the answers with a grain of salt. Don’t believe everything just because someone is saying it.”
Wow, do I sound like a wise old woman.
But I can’t pull random sayings out of my ass the way some people can, so we’re stuck with grain of salt and shit.
“Also, Dad. If someone has a damn accent that makes them sound like they’re not from America, they’re probably not from America, and they’re probably going to ask for money.”
He blinks at me wide eyed. “Really?”
“Yes.” Really.
You see it on the news all the time, and there are television shows about this sort of thing. It breaks my heart that my father is so easily fooled by a few pretty pictures on the internet.
His generation is sadly susceptible to these scams, and my father is specifically. Crap. Does this mean I actually do have to monitor his online activity?
Dammit!
I lean down and put my arms around him from behind, giving him a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Daddy-O, I got you.”
He isn’t convinced. “I’m going to be alone until I die.”
So dramatic.
“Stop. It was one person who wasn’t honest. There are thousands more.”
“Thousands more who are honest or thousands more who are liars?”
I shake my head. “Yes.”
That gets a laugh out of him, and I nudge him so he’ll stand. “Come on, wasn’t there a show you wanted to watch?”
He gives me a look. “No, I only came over so you’d help me with Shirley.”
“And I did.”
Not one to miss an opportunity to lounge on my couch, Dad has renewed excitement. “I did want to finish that episode of Naked and Afraid I started.”
“You watched it here?”
He nods.
“When were you here?”
“I came this morning to walk Kevin.”
“You walked Kevin? This morning?”
He nods, plopping down on the couch when we reach the living room.
“Dad. You can’t just come to the house while I’m sleeping and walk my dog. You need to take it easy, you’re still not one hundred percent.” I mean, he can walk the dog all he wants when I haven’t hired someone to pet sit—I just need him to tell me about it first. “I’m installing a camera.”
“To keep tabs on me?” He grins.
“Yes. I’m not worried about anyone breaking in but you. You’re the only one who trespasses.”
“There is no such thing as a dad who trespasses. You’re my daughter.”
I roll my eyes.
Wouldn’t it be great if he met someone? He has a few friends who are either widowed or divorced, some of whom have started dating, and he wants that for himself, too—and I pray he meets someone. That would keep him busy and out of my business, surely.
Right?
He’s literally like a stray cat I have given one too many saucers of milk and food to that won’t stop sniffing around my doorstep. Ugh!