“Hours? Really?” I roll my eyes. “Do you know where your sons are right now?”
“I assume they’re at the gym.”
“Meaning you don’t know. So it’s okay for them to take off and do what they want but I have to sit here in my room.”
“That is not what I’m saying.”
“Let’s straighten this out right now.” I look him in the eye. “If you want us to get along, you’ll leave me alone. You’ll stop demanding to know where I go, or who I’m with, and treat me like an equal to your sons.”
“Boys aren’t the same as girls.”
“You’re right. Boys are dumber. So they’re the ones you should be keeping track of, not me. And I’m not following your stupid curfew unless Trystan and Braden have to follow it too.”
His face tightens as he takes a deep breath through his nose. “Dinner is at six. We’ll be leaving at five thirty so be ready.”
“What am I supposed to wear?”
“A nice dress. The place we’re going to is comparable to the one we went to the other night.”
“Are Braden and Trystan going?”
“No. Morgan and Livia will be accompanying us tonight.”
“Your girlfriend and her kid? I thought they lived in LA.”
“They do, but they’re driving down for the night.”
“Are they staying here?”
“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you would do something with Livia after dinner. Maybe let her play with your makeup or do her hair. She likes that kind of thing.”
“Play with my makeup?” I say, laughing. “I thought she was fourteen.”
“She is.”
“I’m pretty sure she knows how to put on makeup at fourteen. And do her own hair.”
“Then figure something else out. Just keep her entertained.”
“Why? Are you and her mom going to be in your sex room?”
His brows draw together. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”
“I saw it. Trystan showed me. I wasn’t impressed. The one in that movie was better.”
“You’re so much like your mother,” he mutters under his breath.
“Meaning she could see past your bullshit? Yeah, she passed that down to me.”
He takes a deep breath through his nose again, then says, “If you continue to disrespect me, you may just end up in foster care after all.”
“Works for me,” I say with a smile.
He glares at me. “Be ready at five thirty.”
“I’m not babysitting for you for free.”
He hesitates. “How much do you want?”
