“Why wasn’t her mother at home?” I ask.
“Hot date?” Allie shrugs. “Your date went well. How long have you been dating Dmitri?”
“We’re not, I mean, we’re just friends.” I don’t want my daughter thinking that I screw men I barely know. What happened between Dmitri and me was not typical for me.
I don’t do one-night stands.
I’ve always insisted on putting Allie first. Which means dating has been pushed to the back burner. She’ll be off to college in a few years, and I won’t have to worry about her.
“Right, friends with benefits,” she snickers.
“Allie!” I warn. “That’s enough.”
“It’s not, Mom. You kept your boyfriend from me.”
I glare at her.
“Fine, your friend. When can I meet him properly? Like over dinner?”
The girl is persistent. That’s one hundred percent me where she gets that. I only have myself to blame for her stubbornness.
“I will see if he’s available this weekend.” The thought of going out on a date with Dmitri and my daughter makes my stomach tumble. I am not ready for this, but telling her I slept with a man I barely know, that’s worse.
I can pull off a fake date if Dmitri is willing to go along. The way I see it, he owes me for helping him, and I lost my job over it.
Not that I blame him, I don’t. It was entirely my decision, but the least he can do is help.
But how am I going to get ahold of Dmitri? I don’t know where he’s staying, living, or working. He doesn’t have a cell phone or wallet, for that matter. However, he did manage to pay his fare for the subway.
I hadn’t thought anything of it at the moment, but now I’m even more confused.
“Can I go to the mall with Brooke this afternoon?” Allie asks.
“Yes,” I say, and grab my purse, fishing out a twenty. “Don’t spend it all in one place.”
She rolls her eyes. “This will barely buy lunch.”
“You’re welcome.”
* * *
After dealing with my sassy daughter, I slip on some running clothes and shoes and head out the door.
Dmitri is at the bottom of the porch steps. “How long have you been out here?” I ask.
He sips his coffee, his expression blank. “A while. I’d have bought you a cup, but I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Waiting for another hot date?” I joke.
His brow furrows. “No.” He shuffles his feet, and his eyes remain locked on mine. “You didn’t mention that you had a daughter.”
“It didn’t exactly come up,” I say. “We’re not dating.”
He finishes his coffee and tosses it into the garbage bin nearby.
“I’m going for a run.” I point in the direction that I intend to head. “You can join me if you’re up for it. I can’t promise that you can keep up with me.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” he rasps.