Bruce Flores - Daddy_s plaything

When she spotted her father by the hotel swimming pool, he was with the elderly Whitcombs and their daughter, Sheila.

"Well, hello, my dear," her father said, as she approached them. "I see you got a good night's sleep. Good. Good. You remember the Whitcombs?"

Sherry exchanged greeting with the Whitcombs. She did not miss the subtle sarcasm in her father's voice regarding her getting a good night's sleep. He had purposely goaded her, she knew, but she pretended as though nothing unusual had happened and smiled amicably.

"Mr. and Mrs. Whitcomb are going to fly over to Las Vegas for a few days for a change of scenery," Sherry's father said. "They've decided to let Sheila stay on and enjoy the mountain atmosphere in their absence. Incidentally, it's a pity you slept in so late. Sheila sang for us at the piano bar in the lounge and she has a really remarkable voice. Quite professional I'd say. Very talented indeed. Perhaps you can give her a few pointers during her parents absence."

"Certainly," Sherry said. "I'd be delighted to help in any way I can." Her father was being his super-charming self.

"That would be wonderful," Mrs. Whitcomb said, bubbling with excitement. "We've always thought Sheila's voice was very good and when your father encouraged her – well, it makes us very happy. Sheila just hasn't made up her mind what she wants to do with herself as yet. She'll marry soon, no doubt, but in the meantime it would be nice if she could sing for a while. Mr. Whitcomb and I aren't trying to make a nightclub singer of Sheila, of course, but for a short while it would keep her out of mischief, wouldn't it?" Mrs. Whitcomb suddenly realized what she had said about not trying to make a nightclub singer out of her. She was embarrassed. "Not that there's anything wrong with being a nightclub singer, but – uh – well, I'm sure you understand," she said to Sherry. Mrs. Whitcomb muttered something else about work on stage being good for character development, but the more she said, the worse it was. She had obviously implied that there was somehow something cheap about being a performer and didn't know quite how to extricate herself from her delirium.

Sheila, who was standing unusually close to Sherry's father, was no help. She stood there with a smug expression on her pretty face as if to say, All right, my dowager, loud-mouthed mother, let's see you get yourself out of this one.

Whitcomb finally attempted to come to his wife's rescue. "In any event, we are most pleased that Mr. Redgrave seems to think our Sheila has talent," he said, "and we would deeply appreciate any help you can give our daughter in our absence. Perhaps you two could even play tennis. Sheila's backhand is a little weak, I'm afraid, but she's a scrapper – mmm, yea – a scrapper all right."

"We'll do whatever we can to make your daughter's stay here a pleasant one Mr. Whitcomb," Sherry said, glancing at her father's arm which was a bit too tight about young Sheila's thin waist. "Have a nice stay in Vegas."

"Thank you," Whitcomb said. "If I can keep the little missus away from the slot machines we shall – yes indeed, but she's a terror on those nickel machines! Absolutely loses her head!"

The little missus, who seemed to weigh nearly two-hundred pounds, giggled. It was a wonder she could even get around on a tennis court, Sherry thought.

"Oh, Jerome," she tittered, "you know I'm not that bad. How about you and your silly keno and dice?"

"Well, we must be getting upstairs to pack," Whitcomb said, glancing at his watch. "We're catching an early flight to Vegas and we mustn't be late. Come on, Lois," he said to his wife, "and thank you so much for looking after our Sheila."

"We will," Victor Redgrave assured the couple as they hurried off. Sherry started after them in amazement. They were like children. Worse!

And they actually seemed ambitious regarding their daughter's singing career. Mrs. Whitcomb reminded Sherry of mothers who push semi-talented and totally untalented children into show business. What made Mrs. Whitcomb doubly ridiculous was that she and her husband were wealthy and had no economical need to force a stage career on their daughter. Perhaps, though, it was as Mrs. Whitcomb had said. Perhaps they intended singing to be merely an amusement for their bored daughter until she found somebody's rich son or just killed in Europe for a season or two. There was something else that bothered Sherry. Was her father actually setting Sheila up for the make? He seemed awfully interested in young Sheila. Maybe it was his way of getting even with her for the sexual relationship she was having with Tony.

"Daddy," Sherry said abruptly, "I feel a little bushed. If you don't mind, I think I'll run over to our motel and take a little nap." She wished she hadn't even bothered to leave Tony. She could be sleeping in his arms right now, but she had sincerely assumed her father might be worried about her. Now that he seemed to be enjoying himself with Sheila she decided to leave and she didn't want to wake Tony by knocking on his locked door.

"Very well, dear," Victor said. "Sheila and I will just look around and I'll see you there after a while. Ta-ta."

Wow, Sherry thought. Father has already adopted the speech mannerisms of the rich. Wonder if he might be considering showing Sheila the sex habits of the not-so-rich. She would not be at all surprised judging by the way he was looking at Sheila and holding her waist.

At the motel, Sheila stripped down to her bra and panties and prepared to take a nap in the bedroom. She admired herself in the mirror thinking that what they said about women in love was absolutely true. She did look different. There was a certain flush in her cheeks and glitter in her eyes. Tony had won her heart completely. She could hardly wait to see him tonight. She debated whether to return to the hotel and, despite his still sleeping, climb into bed beside him.

But she decided not to be selfish and demanding. She would let him sleep. She was about to climb into bed when she noticed that the dresser drawer was open. She went over to close it and noticed a check book among her father's handkerchiefs. She had never pried into her father's affairs nor had any desire to question his handling of their business affairs, but something made her pick up the check book. She leafed through it until she came to a deposit with today's date. There was the deposit – undoubtedly the check, less cash, from the Lucky Nuggett in Las Vegas. She continued leafing through the pages, noting the deposits at fairly regular intervals, until she came to the final balance. Actually, she had failed to notice it before, but now she realized that it was quite a lot of money – more than eighty-thousand dollars.

Still, it occurred to her that there was probably much more in the savings accounts she had heard her father refer to. She felt pleased that she was becoming something of a girl of means until she flipped to the front of the book and saw that the account was in the name of Victor Redgrave. That was odd, she thought. Her father had always deposited the money – or at least all except money necessary for day-to-day expenses in her name. And then she sighted a zippered leather folder. She opened it and was astonished to see that there was over one-hundred thousand dollars in savings books and bonds – all in the name of Victor Redgrave. There was nothing with the name Sherry Trent on it. Suddenly it struck her that there was something amiss. She would have to ask Daddy about this. No, she would demand an explanation. There might possibly be some logical explanation for her total assets to be in her father's name, but she could not understand why he would lie to her about it all these years. Yes, it was his lying to her that convinced her that something was definitely wrong. Sherry dressed quickly, gathered up the checkbook and savings books and bonds and practically ran back to the Alpine Hotel. When the elevator reached the tenth floor, she hurried down the hall to Tony's room and knocked hard. In a moment, Tony answered the door. He wore his shorts and his huge prick stood out at attention in front of him. He groggily rubbed his eyes and told Sherry to come in.