Page 2 of Role Play (Off the Books #1)

Grumbling underneath my breath, I meet the nurse on the other side of the office, this time my hand outreached to properly introduce myself. “Nice to meet you, Kirsten. I’m Forrest. Thank you for helping my daughter…who clearly wants nothing to do with me.”

She shakes my hand firmly, her eye contact steady. “I’m sure it’s just a phase.” Cocking her head to the side, she smiles.

“What?” I ask, studying the dazed expression she’s wearing.

“It’s really nice to see such an involved father. Most of the time it’s nannies or au pairs dropping off forgotten lunches, science projects, and changes of clothes.”

“Ah…” I trail off, finally understanding the dreamy look on her face. “Well, we are indeed nanny-free.” Hannah has suggested it, but I don’t see my daughter enough as it is. I don’t need to share her with a nanny, too.

“ We as in…?”

“Dakota’s mother and I.”

Kirsten blushes, her pale cheeks turning pink at record speed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize by ‘we’ you meant you and Mrs. Hawkins?—”

“I didn’t,” I quickly add and she perks right back up.

I’m not dense. The very attractive, blond nurse is interested in me. She’s sweet, probably smart if she’s an RN, and clearly, she’s great with my daughter. This woman is the whole package. I’m sure I’d more than enjoy her company.

There’s just one problem…

The problem I always encounter when it comes to dating. Flings I can do, but a woman who is basically smiling at me with her ovaries is dangerous territory. How would I even begin to explain my job?

“Hannah’s mother and I were never married. We just share custody,” I clarify.

Actually, share is a bit of an overstatement.

One of us is getting the lion’s share of time with Dakota.

The other is feeling supremely cheated, but also wary of poking the bear.

If Hannah ever took me to court, the judge would ask about child support and what I do for a living.

I could lie, which wouldn’t bode well. I could also tell the truth and implicate my boss.

The last thing Rina wants is the feds sniffing around her operation.

“Okay, I see. Well, in that case…” Kirsten tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear, then meets my eyes.

Her smile is tepid, seemingly filled with nerves.

“I don’t usually do this, and it might be against school rules—I’m not sure, I’m just a sub—but could I take you out for a drink sometime?

” She blinks at my frozen expression. “Or coffee perhaps if you don’t drink? ”

“Oh, I…”

Her face transforms into a look of horror when I don’t answer right away. Luckily, Dakota emerges from the bathroom with both arms in the air, interrupting our awkward moment. “Ta-da.” She twirls around, showing off a white dress with colorful flowers. “See? I like dresses.”

“You look beautiful, Koda. Here—” I beckon her forward, then swivel my finger so she spins around. I fasten the back button on her dress. At least that she’ll let me do.

“I picked Cinderella,” she announces. “That’s what took so long. I almost picked Belle.”

“Why Cinderella?” I fix Dakota’s hair, smoothing it over her shoulders. I like moments like this, when she has problems I can actually solve.

“Ms. Mazer says Cinderella is the only princess with a job and work epic.”

“You mean work ethic ?”

She nods eagerly. I peer over my shoulder at Kirsten who has her eyes clamped shut as she stifles a laugh. Turning my attention back to Dakota, I ask, “Do you know what a work ethic is?”

“No. But I want one. How do I get a job like Cinderella, Daddy?”

“We’re playing fast and loose with the word job , baby. Her evil stepmom made Cinderella do all that work. She didn’t like it, and she didn’t get paid.”

The little cogs in Dakota’s brain are spinning out of control. I can almost see the steam coming out of her ears as she tries to make sense of my explanation. “So, you’re like Cinderella?”

I smooth the front skirt of her dress, feeling the expensive fabric. I have no doubt Hannah picked this up from a pricey boutique. It looks like Sunday’s best for an Easter service. And these are the backup clothes she keeps at school? “Why am I like Cinderella?”

“You don’t like your job. You told me .”

My daughter’s stark honesty catches me off guard sometimes.

At this age, the world is very black and white.

She either likes something, or she doesn’t.

She’s far too young to understand that while I don’t love my job, it’s the only way I’ve been able to stay afloat.

I’m making more now than I would ever have as a lawyer.

“But Daddy gets paid. That’s the difference. ”

Surprisingly, she’s satisfied with that answer. Normally, Dakota’s a dog with a bone, following up everything I say with a “how come?”

“Go get your backpack from your cubby. I’ll be right there to tell Ms. Mazer I’m taking you home for the day.”

I linger in the doorway, watching Dakota skip down the hallway—clean, dry, and happy. I wait until I see her disappear into the pre-K class on the left. Kirsten approaches behind me, holding out the plastic bag of Dakota’s wet clothes.

“So, Ms. Mazer, huh?” I ask.

Kirsten raises her brows. “I guess in her books, princesses should work.”

I laugh. “I mean, Cinderella as the only princess with a job…. That can’t be right, can it?” We both squint our eyes as we rack our brains.

“Snow White took care of all those dwarves, I suppose?” Kirsten twists her lips, also stumped.

“I think they more so took care of her. And the animals did most of her chores.”

She nods slowly. “Right. Well, this is rather disturbing, Forrest. I need to go home to do some Disney research, because I can’t have Belle disrespected like that.”

I smile. “Ah, Beauty and the Beast fan, hm?”

“All of the Disney princess movies, really. Only the originals though. These remakes are giving me severe anxiety.” We share in an awkward chuckle, and then it’s time to address the elephant in the room. In my experience, head-on is the best way to approach it.

“Kirsten, about earlier, you seem really nice and I know ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ is a lame excuse, but I know I’d be a disappointment.

My job has me working all hours of the night.

Outside of that, my daughter is really all I have time for.

My circumstances are too messed up right now.

You deserve a guy who can focus on you.”

She rolls her eyes but pairs it with a soft smile. “Honest, hot, and clearly communicates. Now you’re just not playing fair.”

My gaze drops to the pattern of rainbow squares on the floor as I suck in my lips. After letting out a deep exhale, I add, “I hope you’re not upset.”

“Of course not. Probably stupid and uncomfortable of me to ask you out?—”

“It wasn’t.” I show her an earnest smile to put her at ease. “I’m flattered. And in any other circumstance, I probably would’ve beat you to it and asked you out first.”

“Out of plain curiosity, what circumstances? I mean, are you in the medical field, by chance?”

“No.” I shoot her a puzzled look. “Why do you ask?”

“You said your job has you working all hours of the night. And you’re dressed like a doctor off duty.

” She gestures to my ensemble which is for an upscale Manhattan wedding next week with one of my regulars, Celeste.

I was getting alterations completed when I got the call from Wesley.

I flew out of the shop, not bothering to change.

“Maybe you’re too modest to refer to yourself as ‘Doctor Forrest.’”

“Are you kidding? If I graduated from med school and passed my licensing exams, I’d even make Koda call me ‘Doctor.’ Rite of passage. But no, I’m not that intellectually inclined.” That’s somewhat of a lie. I did graduate from Columbia Law, I just never sat for the bar.

She relaxes her shoulders as she laughs. “So, what do you do?”

“Consulting,” I say absentmindedly as Dakota reemerges from her classroom with her bright pink backpack secured around her shoulders. Ms. Mazer appears behind Koda and spots me from down the hall.

“Mr. Hawkins,” she calls out while curling her pointer finger.

“I’m being summoned. I should go,” I say in a hurry.

“Nice to meet you, Forrest.”

“You too.”

I’m about halfway down the hallway when I stop in my tracks and hustle back to the nurse’s office. The door is still open, so I peek my head through. Kirsten, who was headed back to her desk, stops and turns around at my unexpected intrusion.

“Mulan,” I say, a little out of breath. “She survived basic training in the midst of war. Soldier is a job, right?”

She chuckles. “Take that, Ms. Mazer.”

I return a hearty grin. “Okay, take care, Kirsten.”

She gives me a little wave goodbye as the corner of her lips curl down into a slight frown. Ah, shit. I feel bad if I hurt her feelings, but I’m trying to spare her. If she only knew the real reason my dating life is nonexistent…

No one, and I mean no one , wants to date a professional escort.