Busting Up The Bad Boys' Bet - Published!

Chapter 8

7/22/2019: Updated to the published version.

I worked on homework all day Sunday with just a few breaks for social media and email. The discussions on my dates were still going strong with both Taylor and Scott chatting with my friends. The girls were telling them things about me, relating funny stories, but nothing I minded, nothing about Daniel. I posted a couple of comments. There was still nothing from Brad.

At seven o'clock, I headed downstairs to dinner and took my seat at the table. Dad still wasn't there, so I fiddled around on my phone as I waited. I heard two deep voices getting closer, and they laughed about something just before they stepped into the dining room. I froze.

Bradley Sullivan was standing there by my father's side.

My dad said, "Hi, sweetie," and moved to his chair at the head of the table.

Brad gave me a cocky grin and sat down across from me. "Hey, angel. How's your weekend been?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Wonderful, thanks. I've had so much fun." My tone conveyed my displeasure. Leaving the table crossed my mind but seemed immature. I could eat at the same table while Bradley visited with my father.

He kept grinning at me. "Glad to hear it."

My father's chef brought in the salad and our drinks. I kept glancing at my father, but he wouldn't look at me. At least he seemed to be feeling a little guilty. The table was silent for a while. I certainly wasn't going to talk. Brad finally broke it by saying to me, "You're Florida friends are funny, Ally."

I looked at him but didn't say anything. I took a drink of water instead.

My father sounded confused as he asked Brad, "You talked to some of her friends in Florida?"

Brad dragged his eyes from mine to my father. "Ally and I became friends on social media yesterday. I've been reading their posts and comments. They all seem to have a good sense of humor."

"Ah. That's good then."

"Yeah, and they seem like good friends too. They seem to care about her being happy."

My father nodded and smiled.

Brad looked back at me. "I noticed your friend Daniel hasn't posted anything in a while."

My father froze with his wine glass almost to his mouth, and he looked at me. I looked right back at him, willing him not to say anything.

Brad looked from me to my father and back again. "He's in so many of your pictures, I figured he was a really good friend." He was guessing Daniel was the bed buddy.

I kept my eyes locked with my dad's. "Yeah. Daniel's off the grid these days."

My father finally brought the wine glass up to his mouth and took a sip.

Brad said, "Off the grid? Cut off from technology? What's he doing? Building huts for poor people in Africa?"

I finally looked at Brad. "Something like that, yeah."

Brad kept glancing at my father, obviously not having missed the strange exchange between us. It was clear he didn't believe me. He asked my father, "Do you not like Daniel for some reason, Mr. Thompson?"

My father shook his head. "I only met him once, but he was good to Ally. I liked him just fine. He was a great guy from what I could tell." He put another forkful of food in his mouth, and I fisted my hands under the table. My father talked about Daniel in the past tense. What was he trying to do to me here?