Passion: A Single Dad Small Town Romance

by Bella Winters

  She kept trying to dissuade me from continuing my love affair with my romance novels. Over the years, she’d told me how stupid my fascination with these love stories was so many times, I couldn’t possibly have kept track. Not even if I’d wanted to, which I didn’t. I couldn’t think of a more depressing thing to keep a tally of.

  Her basic argument was always the same. What was the point in getting myself all worked up and moony over a concept that didn’t exist it real life? What was the point of getting attached to the idea of happily-ever-afters when I was never going to get one of my own? In short, Courtney thought I was setting myself up for failure, and her constant nagging at me was her way of trying to protect me.

  She meant well, and because of that, I never got angry at her about this old argument. It was the reason that I didn’t get angry with her right now. She was trying to look out for me. Her heart was in the right place. After the death of my mother, who’d raised me all by herself, Courtney was the only one who was willing to step up to the challenge.

  “See, here’s the thing,” she said in her always just a little bit too loud voice, as if there had never been a break in the conversation. “You’re setting these expectations, Fay. You’re setting these expectations for yourself, and they’re never going to be met. You don’t know what it’s like out there, sweetie. Men aren’t walking Prince Charmings. Not even close. The sooner you get that idea out of your head, the better off you’ll be. And hey? Maybe you’ll finally be able to get rid of the V-card! God knows you need to before you hit thirty. Can you imagine?”

  “Courtney!” I hissed. My cheeks flamed up a hot, bright red immediately at her mention of my lingering virginity. “Come on!”

  “What?” She laughed, hopping up on the diner’s front lunch counter and swinging her legs nonchalantly. “It’s not like there’s anyone here to listen.”

  “Um, aren’t you forgetting about something?” I asked in a whisper, cocking my head in the direction of our one customer.

  “What, that guy? He’s not listening. Old guys don’t give a shit about the kind of stuff people like us talk about. Anyway, don’t try to change the subject. The point is, the sooner you get this fairytale idea of love out of your head, the better. We live in Ashville, Alaska, Fay. There aren’t millions of men walking around just waiting to sweep us off our feet. And there aren’t a bunch of things to amuse us everywhere we turn. Smoking, partying, those are the only things here to help pass the time, and they aren’t bad things, either. That’s all I’m saying, lady. The sooner you get rid of this romanticism of yours, the sooner you can come join the land of the living. And I’ll be right there waiting for you when you do, ready to throw you a fucking party!”

  Courtney hopped back off the counter and headed to the back, presumably to take inventory or some other equally tedious thing. I smiled and shook my head, opening my book back up in spite of everything Courtney had just said. Almost instantaneously, I was caught up in the drama of the story again. So caught up that I didn’t even notice when our one patron approached the part of the counter I leaned up against. It was only when he cleared his throat bashfully that I looked up with a start, letting out a little gasp of surprise when I did so.

  “Oh!”

  “Sorry,” he said quickly, his face bashful and as red as mine had been at the mention of my virginity. “I didn’t mean to startle you, miss.”

  “Don’t be sorry. It’s quite alright. Is there something I can get you?”

  “Um, well, no. Not exactly. It’s just that I overheard your conversation with that other one, the one who’s trying to convince you that love is bullshit.”

  “Oh, you heard that, did you? I’m sorry about that. I’ll make sure that our silly conversation doesn’t interrupt your meal again.”

  “No, it’s not that. I just wanted to tell you something. I wanted to tell you that true love isn’t what she says. It’s real, and it’s out there. Take it from an old man who’s lived through it himself. That’s all.”

  I thanked the man profusely. I was strangely touched by both his words and his willingness to go out on a limb and say them to me. I tried to go back to my book, but I found that it was now all but impossible. Whether I wanted them to or not, my thoughts traveled back in time, back to the only boy I’d ever loved. Back to the moment all those years ago when I’d offered my heart up to him, and he’d chosen to walk away instead of taking my simple and all-important gift.

  Chapter 2: Neil

  Most people considered me to be a very young man, at only twenty-six years old, but I was also a man that had been described as too serious, on more than one occasion. I’d heard these comments, of course, because generally, people who talked behind the backs of others weren’t all that discreet. I’d heard the whispers, and the people calling me an asshole, or saying I was willing to walk all over anyone and everyone to get what I wanted, and I couldn’t have cared less.

  I didn’t give a shit because their opinions didn’t matter. Their opinions weren’t the things that had gotten me almost all of the way through law school. They hadn’t ensured that my grades were at the top of my class across the board. They weren’t the things that had gotten me out of my bullshit tiny town, either. And they weren’t going to be the things that made me one of the top lawyers in Connecticut once I passed my bar exam. People’s opinions only mattered to those who were too small-minded to think for themselves. That had never, and would never, be me.

  “Mr. Driscoll! There you are! I was wondering if you’d be here. Some of the others were saying you were far too serious to come to something as frivolous as a party, but I knew better. I was sure you would come, and now, here you are.”

  I turned, scotch in hand, and saw one of my professors approaching. I’d had plenty of teachers over the last three years, and after the two or three scotches I had already slung back, this particular one’s name escaped me. It had the potential to create an embarrassing situation for me, but seeing as the older gentleman seemed to be a fan of mine already, I was sure I could slide through whatever conversation he wanted with me, without him ever knowing I wasn’t sure exactly who he was.

  “Hello, sir,” I said. “Good to see you! And I’m not sure what you’ve heard about me, but I never turn down a good party. My father always told me it was important for a man to know how to work hard and play hard, and that’s a rule I’ve always made a point of following.”

  “Excellent! Excellent, my boy, but please, there’s no need to call me sir. Not now that all of your classes are over. Please, call me Dan.”

  I nodded and smiled, happy to see that I’d learned his name without him ever being wise to the fact that I wasn’t sure who the fuck he was. I listened to him talk, making sure it looked like he was getting my undivided attention. In reality, I checked out the room to see who I might be able to take home and fuck tonight.

  I had no interest in a relationship. God forbid some clingy chick try to nail me down into a long-term thing. Decent women had tried and failed to do that. No pussy was that good.

  During my time at Yale, I’d banged more than my share of ladies. I saw no reason to stop now. It always amazed me how some of the world’s most intelligent women could turn into mindless fools over a man. Especially when they thought they might be able to trap him.

  I made it clear to them from the beginning that all I wanted was some fun between the sheets. But still, some of them couldn’t understand. It was a massive turn off. If anything, it only made me more eager to ditch their asses. I’d sent more than one crying woman home with her soaked panties in hand. It was their own damn fault for thinking they could change me.

  “So, what do you think?” Professor Dan asked. “Are you going for sooner rather than later?”

  “Good question,” I answered smoothly, taking a second to make sure I was right about him asking me when I planned on taking the bar. “And may I answer your question with another question?”

  “Smart boy,” the professor also kno
wn as Dan said with a twinkle in his eye. “No direct answer. Spoken like a true attorney. I suppose most people will take their exam as soon as possible. Impatient to get to work, and all of that. Perhaps you don’t have that same concern? Given your unique set of circumstances and all.”

  “My circumstances?” I asked, actually paying attention now.

  “But of course. Your father runs one of the most successful oil companies in the world. One of the most successful companies in the world period. Sitting comfortably in the top two hundred fifty companies for what, years now? Let’s just say, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to forego law in favor of taking over the family business. Nepotism gets a bad rap, but sometimes it’s the best decision. The best decision by far. Why not start out with something you already know for sure is going to be a success?”

  “Right,” I said, faking a laugh. At that moment, I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t a fan of Professor Dan in the slightest. “I can see how a person would think that. As for me, though, I think I’ll take my chances doing the lawyer thing.”

  “Really?” he asked me with a look of skepticism so smug, I wanted to reach out and physically smack it off his face. “Is that so?”

  “It is. Besides, my father is never going to retire. It would be pointless for me to try and make plans around taking over the family business. He’s going to be heading that company up when he’s a hundred years old. I have to figure out something to keep me occupied in the meantime.”

  “Ah, one of those,” the good professor answered in a commiserating tone. As if he could even come close to understanding what I was talking about.

  He went on to talk about who the fuck knew what? He droned on and on, as if I gave a damn what he had to say. Law school had been good to me, but one thing I most definitely wouldn’t miss were the pompous asses who oversaw our education. I had put up with them while in class, because getting top grades was more important than anything else. Now that I didn’t need them anymore, I was having a bitch of a time pretending to tolerate the company of the professors mingling with the students at this party. A man could only fake a smile for so long.

  I was more than a little grateful when I saw my buddy Alastair approaching us with a very serious look on his face. Alastair was originally from London, but he’d been living in the States for many years. I had met him our first year at Yale, when the two of us had quickly established a system of looking out for each other and helping the other out of unpleasant, seemingly endless conversations.

  I had no doubt that his serious, almost grief-stricken, expression now was a part of that ruse. I made a mental note to buy him a beer later on, once we were free of all these stupid professors who couldn’t seem to let us go, now that we were on our way out of Yale’s door and headed out into the real world.

  “Neil,” Alastair said in a low, serious voice as he put one hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, mate.”

  “What’s the trouble?” Professor Dan asked pompously, immediately going into control mode. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” Alastair repeated, really putting on a good show, one worthy of an Oscar in my humble opinion. “It’s terribly rude of me to interrupt. It’s just, there’s a phone call for him. About his father.”

  “I better take this,” I cut in with my own grave tone, doing my best not to crack a smile and ruin the whole show. “Please, excuse me.”

  “Of course! Of course, Neil. Please let me know if you need anything.”

  The good professor turned to go. After watching to make sure that he was well out of sight, I turned to Alastair with a grin spreading across my face. Unfortunately, it was a grin that never made it to its full potential. My friend’s expression had not changed. He looked afraid and sad and a little bit like he was going to throw up. Nothing that suggested he was just trying to help me out of a bad conversation.

  “What’s the matter, man? You look like shit.”

  “I wasn’t bullshitting you,” he said. “There was a phone call. You weren’t near your phone, and it kept ringing. So I picked it up.”

  “Okay, so what’s the problem?” I asked.

  “It’s your father, Neil. He’s gone. He’s passed away.”

  Chapter 3: Fay

  “Where the hell is the waiter?” Courtney asked. “Can’t he tell I’m going to die here if I don’t get my drink?”

  “I’m pretty sure what you need is a glass of water, by the look of you.”

  “And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  I laughed. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

  I took a sip of my coke and mentally thanked my lucky stars that I wasn’t suffering from the kind of hangover Courtney clearly was. I was well aware that most people thought I was a bit of a goody-goody, but that was something I was definitely okay with. Especially if it meant that I didn’t have to feel as shitty as Courtney did during one of her legendary hangovers.

  One of those hangovers had her so terribly cranky at the moment, cranky enough that she poked her lip out at me, like she used to do to her parents when we were little and she wasn’t getting her way.

  “Fine, go ahead and make fun, Fay. At least I know how to have fun.”

  “Do you really consider this fun, though? You don’t look like you’re having fun. You look like you feel terrible.”

  “You may be right,” Courtney answered with a sly little smile, something I was glad to see. It meant that any chance of us getting into a fight had most likely passed. “But I had a hell of a good time last night.”

  “Did you now?”

  “Yeah, I did!” Courtney practically shouted, taking a moment to nod appreciatively at the waiter who had finally brought her an impressively large glass of wine. “We were all at Rocco’s place. You’ve been there, right?”

  “You know I haven’t,” I smiled, totally used to Courtney’s attempts to draw me into her world. “But I’m glad you had fun.”

  “Things got really wild. You know they always ask about you, right?”

  “Sure,” I laughed, already completely sure of where this conversation was going. “I think you’ve told me that before. I find it hard to believe, seeing as he’s never spoken to me. Not even in high school. But you’ve told me.”

  “He hasn’t spoken to you because he thinks you’re hot!”

  “Shh! Come on, Courtney, keep it down, will you? You’re embarrassing me.”

  “It’s not like the five people in here need me to tell them that you’re hot. Everyone thinks you’re hot. Most of them also happen to believe you should stop being so uptight.”

  “Courtney, come on. You know I’m not going to change everything about the way I live my life because some guy named Rocco thinks I’m cute.”

  “Not cute. Hot. But okay, fine. I get it. All I’m saying is that you should at least think about letting your hair down a bit.”

  “I know,” I said, sighing. “You’ve told me. Believe me, if I ever decide to conduct a complete overhaul on the way I live my life, you’ll be the first one to know.”

  “Oh, I better be! Or else I’ll have to kill you.”

  The two of us lapsed into silence for a couple of minutes, each of us concentrating on our appetizers and thinking our own individual thoughts. It was something I was sure would have made plenty of people totally uncomfortable, but for me, it didn’t seem like any kind of issue whatsoever. Courtney was like a sister to me, had been since before I could even remember, according to my late mother. There was nobody in the world I knew better and nobody who knew me with that same kind of depth.

  There wasn’t a whole lot to our little town, and I knew that was something that really got to Courtney sometimes. For me, a town that not only had the beauty of Alaska but also had a friendship like the one I had with Courtney was a pretty great place. This was what I was busy thinking about when Courtney spoke again and totally derailed all of my thoughts for the rest of the night.
/>
  “You know, there was another pretty interesting topic of conversation last night.”

  “I’m sure there always is,” I said, trying not to take the bait.

  “Right, but I think this was one you might find of particular interest.”

  “Okay, I’ll play along. What was the topic of conversation?”

  “Neil Driscoll.”

  It was pretty clear to me that Courtney had been going for a dramatic effect with the way she delivered her news. If that was the case, it totally worked. She delivered the news right as I took a bite of my salad, and I almost choked on a leaf of lettuce. It was so noticeable that our waiter actually approached our table, apparently prepared to thump me on the back until I stopped choking.

  “No!” I managed to get out, completely mortified at the thought of him drawing even more attention to the scene I was making, “No, I’m fine, really. I’m sorry, it just went down the wrong way, I guess.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked uncertainly, looking from me to Courtney and then back to me again. “You were turning pretty red.”

  “She’s good,” Courtney interjected, taking mercy on me and doing the talking for me. “I just said something at the wrong time. You know how it goes.”

  “Sure, sure, I know. Still, just wave if you need anything ladies, all right? Seriously, anything.”

  I gave him what small smile I could manage. Courtney thanked him before the two of us fell silent while we waited for him to be totally out of earshot. Once I was reasonably confident that he wasn’t paying attention to us anymore, I looked at Courtney closely, trying to figure out if this was some kind of a weird joke, or if what she was telling me was the truth. When she didn’t crack at all, didn’t even blink, I knew she was telling the truth. For whatever reason, the conversation at her party last night had turned to Neil, the only boy I had ever said “I love you” to.