CHAPTER EIGHT
Dennis
“Little girl,” I say and the menace in my voice is inescapable. “You need to change your tone this instant.”
“Hypocrite,” she replies, except I think she says it in French, one of those words that transliterates, the same in multiple languages. “Faux petit ami!”
“Speak English!” I growl, “so I can understand you.”
“Oh, well at least if I speak English, it is something both of us do. But believing in myself is something only I have to do. It does not matter if you are scared, little girl. It does not matter if you are worried little girl. You have to act as though you are not because that is how you believe in yourself.” Her eyes flash and as serious as the situation is, I can’t imagine any girl on Earth looking more beautiful than she looks at this very second.
“That’s enough,” I say. I’m so damned turned on by her that the directive is delivered in a terribly half-hearted manner.
“Oh, another rule that is there for a little girl but not a Daddy? Use your words, little girl, but not if I am supposed to use mine. Be confident little girl, but not if it means I have to be confident. Do not put yourself down, little girl, but let me tell you why I am a terrible failure.” She glares at me and spits out, “Putain de trou du cul!”
I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know how to say what she just said in English. “It’s different,” I say lamely.
“La connerie! Connerie!Si c'est bon pour moi c'est bon pour toi!” she spits out.
“Damn it, little girl,” I say, “speak English so I can understand you.”
“Stupid! Bullshit!” Bullshit sounds like boolsheet, and I don’t want to find it adorable while I’m being yelled at, but I can’t help myself. “If it’s good for me, it’s good for you!”
“That’s what you said?” I ask.
“Yes, it’s what I said!” she shouts.
“It sounds a lot sexier in French.”
She glares at me and then her face softens. “Incorrigible,” she says, “Do you know what that means?” she asks with an exasperated smile.
“I think you said incorrigible but I’m not sure. Is it a word that means unmanageable? Impossible to… God, what’s the word? Reform. That’s it? Am I impossible to get to behave?”
“Yes,” she says. “Incorrigible.”
“That sounds sexy, too.”
“Oh, you like insults en français? Tu es un connard complet. T'es un putain d'abruti.” The words come out melodically, and she sounds incredible.
“Did you call me a prick?” I ask with a smile.
“Total asshole,” she says. Total asshole sounds like toe tail ahs ol’ and I smile.
“You’re right,” I say.
“No,” she says, “you are not a total asshole. I just said something mean in French because you said it was sexy.”
“I mean you’re right about the rules,” I reply. “If they apply to you, they apply to me, too. I’m afraid of failing again—”
“You did not fail, Daddy. You helped a lot of people and—”
“Don’t interrupt me little girl. Interrupting hurts communication and makes it impossible to express what needs to be said.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she says. God, she’s so submissive and sweet right now and just seconds ago she was ready to rip my head right off my shoulders.
“You were right about the rules and if you have to face your fears, I have to face my fears, too. You’re right about the deal. It’s a great project and the only thing keeping me from pulling the trigger is fear of failure.”
I shake my head and say, “Even before you discovered the error, when I thought I would need to get a hard money loan to buy the property….” I smile. “It was pretty amazing you found the error, by the way.”