Daddyâs hand locks around my thigh, stopping me from fidgeting. When my foot stops tapping, he slowly eases his grip, and his fingers start to pet me.
âYou donât like this place, sweetheart?â His voice is gentle, and draws my eyes back to him.
âI donât know anything thatâs on this menu, I just want some chicken strips or a cheeseburger, Daddy,â I pout, looking back down at the menu. âEscargot, calamari, fish that isnât fried and a side of tartar sauceâ¦â I scrunch my face up to show my dislike.
âWe can try one of the other restaurants tomorrow night if you like.â He cups my chin in his hand, pulling me to look at him, his thumb softly running along my jaw.
âWill you just order for me, Daddy?â
âOf course I will,â he says, going back to looking at the menu.
When the waiter arrives at the table, he tells us the specials, which sound just as bad as everything else on the menu. I hold back the urge to make a gagging noise because I know it would upset Daddy, and I already tested him today about the sunscreen.
âWhat can I get you to drink?â the waiter asks.
âStrawberry daiquiri.â I saw a bunch of people walking around with them outside earlier and I really want one.
âVirgin,â Daddy adds, not looking up from the menu.
âWe donât have those in here,â the waiter says in a tone that suggests I asked him for a freaking dinosaur egg instead of a simple drink.
âDaddy?â I ask, looking over at him. I know there are strawberry daiquiris around here on this resort. I know my Daddy will get me one.
âI believe Iâve seen people with them all day,â Daddy says to the waiter, and I give him a smirk because I know Daddyâs going to give it to him. One way or another Iâll be getting one.
âIâm sure I can get one in the bar next door, sir.â The waiter shoots me a glare. Sure, like the problem.
Leaning back in my chair, I fold my arms over my chest, shooting him my best âsuck itâ face. He gives me a once over, like my outfit is the worst thing heâs ever seen.
âManners, Haley,â Daddy warns, making me gasp.
âHe started it!â
He shoots me his âdrop itâ look, but Iâve had enough. Whatever. I canât contain my eye roll.
âI have to go potty.â I get up from my chair and stomp through the restaurant. A few people turn to look at me, and itâs then I notice how much I do not fit in here. That was probably why the waiter was giving me the once over. I think this is the nicest restaurant on the resort. The men are all dressed in immaculate suits, and women the women are all in sexy tight dresses. Daddy fits in perfectly, but I stand out like a sore thumb. Why would he bring me here?
When I reach the bathroom, I canât stop myself from looking in the mirror. Iâm wearing a pink sundress thatâs tight on my chest but flares out at the waist. It has lace ruffles over my boobs, and the straps are pink ribbons that I tie at the top to keep the dress in place. I even have a matching ribbon that I wear in a bow at my crown. My brown curls hang loose around my shoulders and down my back. I love my hair like this, and this dress is one of my favorites, but now it seems like maybe it wasnât the best choice.
A woman exits one of the stalls, washes her hands and fixes her make up. I canât help but compare myself to her. Sheâs stunning, and everything about her is classy, sleek, and sexy.
Iâm curvy, short, and cute.
She is wearing heels that would literally kill me. I remember trying on a pair once, and Daddy just shook his head and led me over to the storeâs selection of ballet flats, a pair of which Iâm wearing right now. And the only makeup I own is my Dr. Pepper chapstick.
I exit the bathroom in time to see our waiter walk by with my drink, and I snatch it off his tray. He just stands and stares at me for a second, so I make a big to-do of taking a long, slow sip, making him huff at me.
âDonât you think youâre a little old to be acting like such a brat?â he asks, making my spine go rigid. I love being a brat. Itâs what I do best. And I know Daddy loves when I do it too, but suddenly I feel really out of place. Again, I find myself questioning why Daddy brought me here.
My eyes drop to my feet, and I kind of just want the ground to swallow me whole. Thankfully, the waiter walks off, not waiting for a response, and clearly seeing I wasnât going to give one. I shouldâve at least called him a âstupid-headâ or something. Maybe even a nice kick to the shin would have felt good.
The far wall of the restaurant is made of glass, and in the distance across the hotel lobby, I see a group of kids my own age hanging by the bar. Some are chatting and others are dancing. I canât help but wonder if I would fit in better over there.
As I finger my sunglasses pensively, I feel a tug on my hair and I whip around in response.
âDo you want to leave, baby girl?â
Daddy found me, and I wonder if Iâm in trouble for storming off.
âThey look like theyâre having fun,â I say, nodding to the group of teenagers across the way.
Some unnamed emotion flashes across his face, but itâs gone before I can tell what it was. Itâs replaced by a soft smile that makes one of his dimples show. âDo you want to go see what theyâre up to?â
I hate the dark lighting of this stupid restaurant because I canât see how truly green his eyes are in here. Nor can I see the dusting of speckled gray his hair has acquired over the past year. Color he says Iâve given him. If he thinks thatâs a deterrent for my being a brat, heâs sadly mistaken. Something about the gray is sexy to me.
I want to make Daddy happy so I lie. âNo, Daddy, letâs go back to the table.â I should try to fit in because Iâm starting to think thatâs what he wants. He brought me here, but I find myself slipping my sunglasses on, not caring that itâs night time or that Iâm in this stupid fancy restaurant. They are bright pink and make me look totally badass.