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“Put the drink down and listen. I have our IT guy following me home—” “Shit! Are you in trouble? What the fuck? A stalker?” “No, I am bringing him home—”
Joanna said I had five minutes, and I had underestimated how badly a tipsy Joanna could make a mess of things. She had Danuwoa sitting on our couch, both laptops open next to him, and Joanna was modeling her wig collection.
Danuwoa broke the silence. “So, uh…Native Daddy, huh?” “You heard?!” I was beyond mortified. “Every word,” he said with a laugh. “For the record, I don’t have daddy issues.” It was dark, but the streetlights illuminated him enough. He wiggled his eyebrows. “Wanna start?” I pushed his chest, laughing at his dumb bravado. “Shut up before I jump out of this car.”
“Be careful, Danuwoa, I wouldn’t want to ruin you,” I said, laughing. He sat up and rested his arms on the bed. “It’s funny. I woke up this morning thinking, ‘I hope this girl destroys me.’
