Page 27 of Role Play (Off the Books #1)

The words hit me like a physical blow. My throat tightens with fury—not just at Hannah, but at Henry too. What kind of man asks a woman to choose between him and her child?

The kind of man my mother chose , whispers a voice in the back of my mind.

Memories surface…

Mom dropping me off at Dad’s ranch for what was supposed to be a weekend visit, then calling three days later to say she’d met someone new, someone who “wasn’t into kids.

” Dad became my everything after that—steady, reliable, always there.

He taught me that being a parent isn’t something you do when it’s convenient. It’s who you are, always.

“So instead of telling this guy to fuck off, you’re planning to ship Dakota away?” I ask, incredulous.

“It’s not that simple, Forrest.”

“It is that simple. She’s our daughter. We’re supposed to put her needs first.”

Hannah stands again, insolence replacing her shame. “And what about what I need? What about my happiness? I’ve been a full-time mother for four years. Don’t I deserve a life too?”

“Not at the expense of your child.” I rake a hand through my hair, wishing she could try being reasonable for once. “Hannah, really listen to yourself. You’re talking about abandoning our daughter.”

“I’m not abandoning her!” Hannah’s voice rises, my words triggering her. “I’m providing her with the best education money can buy.”

“Henry’s money, you mean.”

Her eyes flash. “Yes, Henry’s money. The same money that pays for her pony, her swim lessons, her dance lessons, her designer clothes. The same money that gives her a bedroom with a view of Central Park instead of some cramped hole-in-the-wall in Brooklyn.”

The words sting. There’s truth in them. I can’t give Dakota the material comforts that Henry can. But I can give her something far more valuable—my time, my attention, my unwavering presence.

“You know what?” I say, suddenly calm. “If you want to go to Tokyo, go. But Dakota’s not going to boarding school. She’s staying with me.”

Hannah laughs, the sound shrill and dismissive. “Where would she even sleep? Your apartment barely has room for you and Taio.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“And what about your work? Those late-night client meetings? Who’s going to watch her then?”

I tense, wondering how much Hannah knows or suspects about what I really do for a living.

If she ever found out, she could use it against me in court.

A sex worker isn’t exactly the preferred custodial parent in most judges’ eyes.

If I lost custody in a messy court battle, I couldn’t prevent Hannah from sending Dakota away.

“I said I’ll figure it out,” I repeat firmly. “I’m her father. I have rights. You may not want our kid, but I do. ”

Suddenly a lightbulb powers on and I see a possible solution.

Sora’s brownstone. Four bedrooms, a laundry room, expansive kitchen, even a backyard.

Not to mention it’s a stone’s throw from Koda’s school.

She’s not even sure if she’ll use it. Maybe we could make some kind of arrangement—my ten grand back in exchange for letting Dakota and me stay there until I find something more permanent.

It’s a long shot, but it’s something.

Hannah’s face grows ruddy as tears fill her eyes. “I do love her. This isn’t easy for me,” she says, her voice cracking at the end of her sentence.

“Then tell Henry to kick rocks.” I cross the room and take her hand, appealing to whatever maternal instinct still exists beneath her ambition. “She needs you. She needs us. If you do this, Hannah—she’ll remember. I still remember my mom leaving. I’ve never forgiven her.”

For a split second, I think I’ve gotten through to her. Then she pulls her hand away. “I want to be with Henry. I think when Dakota is a little older, he’ll come around.”

“And until then?”

She blinks her tears free, staring at me wordlessly. Then, her voice hardens again. “Dorimer would give her opportunities neither of us could provide. And it’s not like we’d never see her. There are holidays, summer breaks?—”

“No,” I cut her off, my decision made. “She’s not going. Not to California, not anywhere.”

Hannah’s eyes narrow. “You don’t get to make that decision.”

“Watch me.” I turn to leave, then pause at the door. “Call the school. Tell them Dakota won’t be attending Dorimer. And if you ever forge my signature again, I’ll take your ass to court and I won’t stop until I see you strutting around in an orange jumpsuit. Understood?”

It’s a bluff, and she probably knows it. I can’t afford a protracted legal battle, and my job would become public record. But something in my tone must convince her, because she doesn’t argue further.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she says instead.

“No. It’s just beginning,” I say before I storm out.

On the elevator ride down, I lean against the wall and close my eyes, exhaustion washing over me.

The anger I felt walking in has been replaced by cold determination.

I don’t tell Hannah how to live her life.

Never pushed back against her decisions regarding Dakota.

I could never risk losing what little time I have with my daughter.

But this? I will die on this hill fighting for her. Nothing—not money, not comfort, not convenience—is more important than my little girl.

As I step out onto the street, waiting to hail another overpriced cab, my phone buzzes with a text.

It’s from the last person I expected.

212-555-2929:

Hey, it’s Sora. I forgot to thank you.

Me:

For the cuddle?

212-555-2929:

For turning my night around. I would’ve gone home alone, crying on my birthday if it wasn’t for you. So…thank you.

Me:

You’re welcome, cookie girl. It was my pleasure.

212-555-2929:

For the record, I still need my money back. PLEASE.

I type out a response, then delete it. I want to tell Sora that maybe there’s a different deal we can work out, but there’s too much to figure out prior.

First off, this might be a momentary lapse of judgment amidst a psychotic break for Hannah.

It’s quite possible she’ll think things through and come back to her senses, see the light, and dump Henry.

But even in that scenario, I doubt her jilted ex will be willing to pay for Dakota’s education any further, meaning I’ll have to double my contribution or enroll Koda in public school.

But if I do that, I’ll have to move anyway because the local elementary school that Taio and I live close to has full-time security guards, drug dogs, and metal detectors at every entrance. So, hard pass.

Fuck. I pinch the bridge of my nose, endless scenarios, all with dead ends, crashing together to form a tension headache. There’s too much to figure out. I’m not sure about anything right now.

Well, one thing.

Brownstone or not, I still can’t shake the urge to see Sora again. I ignore her prior request as I text her back.

Me:

Looking forward to your book signing, Sora.

I can’t wait to be the world’s best boyfriend.

Sora:

You ass.

I smile to myself, picturing her cute scowl.

Me:

*kissy face emoji*