Her patience was running out. “Tell what towho?”
“Never mind.” Lance shook his head. “So you've got a daughter, huh. Well, okay. How old is she?”
“Fifteen months.”
“That's pretty young.” Lance must not have been very good at math, because it didn't look like that bit of information made the wheels in his head turn at all. “Where's her father at?”
Paige buried her face in her hands again. “Oh my God … really? Are you serious?”
“What? Did I say something? Shit, is it rude to ask that question or something? I didn't know.”
“I have to go pick her up. She's at my parents' house right now. Do you want to come meet her?”
Paige was sure that Lance would say no. And when he did, she'd tell him that heoughtto meet her, because the girl was, in fact, his.
But as luck would have it, Lance gave a careless shrug. “Meet your daughter? Yeah, I'm up for it. Why not, right? I don't have anything else going on. And kids can be cute, I guess.”
Paige's mouth hung open. She had a half a mind to blurt it out anyway—she'd gotten herself so mentally prepared to tell him.
“Wait, you will?” she stammered.
“Yeah. Is it really that big of a surprise?”
Itwasa surprise, actually. She was used to prospective dates calling her daughter a 'deal breaker,' after all. Even if Lance wasn't romantically interested in Paige, the fact that he was open to evenmeetingher daughter was a complete shock.
And a very good sign, actually,she thought to herself.
Lance began to slide out of the booth. “You ready or what?”
Paige nodded, somewhat numb. “Ready.”
***
Lance struggled with the passenger door to Paige's beat-up, rusted-out Civic. The door had to be coaxed into closing a certain way, and wasn't kind to strangers. After several tries, and with Paige's guidance, Lance finally managed to shut the door.
Paige turned the key and the Civic's engine coughed into life. She was sure that the millionaire athlete who lived on the waterfront next to Matt Damon was thoroughly repulsed.
“Sorry my car's a shit-heap,” she apologized self-consciously.
“Aw, don't worry, Paige.” He touched her shoulder reassuringly. “I'm all caught up on my tetanus shots.”
Paige laughed, and she laughed way too hard. She couldn't help it. The situation was so absurd, and her embarrassment so intense. She ended up wiping a tear from her eye.
“I'm going to guess you probably drive some fancy sports car?” she managed to choke out, her fit winding down at last.
“It's a Lambo,” he answered nonchalantly, as if itwere a common car for people to own.
“A Lamborghini? Seriously? With the slide-up doors and everything?”
“You know it. She's my baby.”
Paige laughed again. “Is she?”
“Yep. Limited edition 2010 Murciélago LP 670-4 SV.”
All those letters and numbers meant nothing to Paige, of course. She just couldn't get over the idea of Lance calling a car hisbaby,and another laughing fit struck her.
Lance looked at her strangely. “Man, you're really giggly today, aren't you?”
