Sugar Daddy(55)

I was rattled and out of breath, and thoroughly exasperated. "Carrington, did you have to make such a fuss? Can't you go one day without a kiss on your arm?"

"No." She extended her ami stubbornly, her face tear-streaked and mulish.

I sighed and made the lipstick mark on her skin. "Are you going to behave now?"

"Okay!" She bounced and skipped back into the classroom while I hurried back to work.

People always noticed Carrington when we went out. They stopped to admire her and asked questions, and said what a pretty little girl she was. No one ever guessed I was related to her—they assumed I was the nanny, and they said things like '"How long have you been taking care of her?" or "Her parents must be so proud." Even the receptionist in our new pediatrician's office insisted I would have to bring Carrington1 s forms home to be signed by a parent or legal guardian, and she treated me with open skepticism when I said I was Carrington's sister. I understood why our link seemed questionable: our coloring was too dissimilar. We were like a brown hen with a white egg.

Not long after Carrington turned four, I got a glimpse of what dating was going to be like—and it wasn't pretty. One of the stylists at the salon, Angie Keeney, arranged a blind date for me with her brother Mike. He had been divorced recently, two years after marrying his college sweetheart. According to Angie, Mike wanted to find someone completely different from his wife.

"What does he do?" I asked her.

"Oh, Mike does real well. He's the top appliance salesman for Price Paradise." Angie gave me a significant glance. "Mike's a provider."

In Texas the code word for a man with a steady job is "provider." and the one for a man who doesn't have or want a job is the all-purpose "bubba." And it's a well-known fact that while providers sometimes turn into bubbas. it seldom goes the other way.

I wrote down my phone number for Angle to give to her brother. Mike called the next night, and I liked his pleasant voice and easy laugh. We agreed he would take me out for Japanese food since I'd never had it before.

"I'll try anything except the raw fish/' I said.

"You'll like it the way they fix it."

"Okay." I figured if millions of people ate sushi and lived to tell about it. I might as well give it a try. "When do you want to pick me up?"

"Eight o'clock."

I wondered if I could find a babysitter who'd be willing to stay until midnight. I had no idea what a babysitter would charge. I wondered how Carrington would react to being left alone with a stranger. I wondered how I was going to react to it. Carrington. at some stranger's mercy...

"Great," I said. "I'll see if I can get a sitter, and if there's any problem, I'll call you b—"

"A sitter," he interrupted sharply. "A sitter for what?"

"For my little sister."

"Oh. She's spending the night with you?"

I hesitated. "Yes."

I hadn't discussed my personal life with anyone at Salon One. No one, not even Angie. was aware that I was the permanent guardian of a four-year-old. And although I knew I should have revealed it to Mike right away, the truth was I wanted to go out on a date. I'd been living like a nun for what seemed like forever. And Angie had warned me that her brother didn't want to date anyone with baggage, he wanted a fresh start.

"Define 'baggage,'" I had said to her.

"Have you ever lived with anyone, been engaged or married?"

"No."

"Do you have any incurable diseases?"

"No."

"Ever gone to rehab or signed up for a twelve-step program?"

"No."

"Ever been convicted of a felony or misdemeanor?"

"No."

"Psychiatric medication?"

"No."

"Dysfunctional family?"

"I don't have a family, really. I'm sort of an orphan. Except I—"

Before I could explain about Carrington, Angie had interrupted with a gushing, "My God, you're perfect1. Mike's going to love you."

Technically I hadn't lied. But withholdine information is often the same as a lie. and

most people would say Carrington was definitely baggage. In my opinion, they would have been dead wrong. Carrington wasn't baggage, and she didn't deserve to be lumped in with incurable diseases and felonies. Besides, if I wasn't going to hold it against Mike that he'd had a divorce, he shouldn't hold it against me that I was raising my little sister.

The first part of the date went well. Mike was a handsome man with a full head of blond hair and a nice smile. We ate at a Japanese restaurant with a name I couldn't pronounce. To my surprise, the waitress led us to a table no higher than my kneecaps, and we sat on cushions on the floor. Unfortunately I had worn my least favorite pants because my best black ones were at the cleaners. The pair I'd had to settle for, also black, were too short in the stride, with the result that sitting on the floor gave me a wedgie for the entire meal. And even though the sushi was beautifully made, if I closed my eyes I would have sworn I was eating out of a bait bucket. Still, it was nice to be out on a Saturday night at an elegant restaurant instead of the kind where they handed out crayons along with the menus.