“I’ll text you later when we get to the restaurant,” I promised, my fingers tapping the side of my mouse anxiously.
“Okay, talk to you soon.” I could tell she was scrutinizing my image on her screen. “Have fun tonight,” she said after a few moments’ pause.
“I will. ’Night, Mom. Love you.” I blew her a quick kiss before I closed the connection and let out a relived sigh.
I’d felt a little guilty at the sound of the incoming call and sat right down. My daily emails and texts home had definitely dwindled down to pretty well nothing the last week or so. Just a couple good morning and good night texts here and there. Ever since that mini-blow up with Dad, I was afraid she’d somehow be able to read between the lines and know things weren’t as picture perfect as I tried to paint them.
I wondered how bad my acting had been during our brief convo. Although I’m pretty sure some of it she’d write off as my nerves on going somewhere with Dad, I knew she’d now be double-checking there really had been a baseball game this afternoon.
Remembering Dad was downstairs getting ready to go out, I turned the laptop off and ran to get ready myself.
“Are you ready?” Dad called up the stairs.
“Almost!” I yelled back, trying to get my other sandal out from under my bed. I stretched a little more and finally wrapped my fingers around the heel, trying to figure out how it had gotten so far under there in the first place.
Dad had stayed pretty quiet about where he was taking me to celebrate my little burst of good news. I’d also decided to stay mum about the whole date with JT thing. I doubted anything was going to come of it, anyway, so why mention it?
I zipped up my black skirt and added the pair of casual black and blue sandals I’d spent five minutes trying to reach. I’d gone with an almost all-black look, frankly because well, I had no clue where we were headed but I doubted it was back to Pink’s. I remembered him saying something about reservations, so obviously, it was someplace special.
I grabbed my little purse and hurried down the stairs. I whistled as I saw Dad standing at the front door, obviously waiting for me to show up. The grey button-down shirt brought out the vivid blueness of his eyes, and the black jeans were a lot more casual than I expected.
Relief flooded me that I wasn’t overdressed—or underdressed, for that matter.
“All set,” he said as he opened the front door, and we stepped outside into the cooler air.
It smelled like rain in the distance, and I rubbed my arm absently, wondering for a minute if I should run back in and grab a jacket.
“Could you be any more secretive?” I teased him. Not that I minded, because I was having fun even with the baseball debacle earlier.
He only smiled. “You’ll see.”
“Okay.” I was starving, anyways. That popcorn seemed hours ago now, and no doubt I’d used up any and all energy from it on our hike back to the vehicle after the game.
I just hoped they had good food and we wouldn’t have to wait in line forever to get there.
Then, I remembered who I was with, and as Sor had been drilling into me lately, everything was different in L.A. Especially for the Hollywood set, which as weird as it still was to me, I was now officially a part of.
We found a nice little parking spot close to wherever it was we were headed to. Dad didn’t point out any of the passing restaurants as we drove by, just said it was within short walking distance. I had my arm looped through his as we walked, and I was really glad Rico had pushed me to take some clothes home when I’d dropped the contract off. I could see some of the people who passed by take another look at us and even better, overheard a few comments about my skirt. Rico would be so proud.
“Here we are,” Dad announced, hand on the door handle.
I was surprised we’d stopped walking. I looked up to see where we were.
“You’re kidding me,” I said as I saw the name above the door and glanced at the smoky glass entrance, trying to see inside.
“Nope.” He opened the door. “After you.”
I may not have moved in the Hollywood circles long, but even I knew about this place. Anyone who was anyone ate here. There’d even been a write up on it in one of the magazines I’d brought with me on the flight. Half the owners were celebs, and I’d never in a million years have imagined myself within a hundred yards of this place, let alone eating here with my father.
Dad laughed and pulled me inside after him. “Come on, we’re right on time for our reservation.”
“Right,” I said, like I’d known that all along.
I knew there had to be some perks to having a movie star father. Good tables was one. No waiting in line, another. We were led straight through the restaurant, and I finally had a few celeb sightings of my own. I suppressed my inner fan girl urge to squeal and ask for an autograph or a quick photo on my phone and instead kept walking, following the woman who led us straight to our table—smack dab in the middle of the room.
Talk about being on display.
I could so feel people looking at us. In fact, they probably were, but I didn’t want to glance around and risk making eye contact with one of my favorite actors of all time. (Three tables over. His poster hung on the back of my bedroom door at home.)
“I hope this is all right?” the hostess asked.
“It’s fine,” Dad answered, pulling out the chair for me.
I smiled and took my seat, putting the white linen napkin on my lap as I tried to discreetly look around, taking it all in from the dark brown tables with the high back leather chairs, to the dark smoky gray walls and matching booths against the far wall, and the square lights hanging down overhead.
Wow.
This place definitely felt like Los Angeles.
Not that I hadn’t been in L.A at Dad’s, or at Sorche’s, or the party or anywhere else…
But this suddenly was different. So different. Like welcome to the world of the real grown-ups.
“You okay?” Dad asked, handing me a matte black leather-covered menu.
I straightened up in my chair a little. “Fine.”
“Okay, then.” He smiled. “I just thought this might be a lot for you to take in all at once.”
“It is a little overwhelming,” I admitted, glancing at the condensation appearing on my glass of ice water.
“You look great, Chey.”
“Thanks. Rico gave me the outfit.”
Along with the orders not to thank him profusely and just enjoy life on the sunny coast. I adjusted the spaghetti strap on my shoulder and looked at the menu, trying to decide what I wanted. I was starving. and everything looked amazing.
“Do you know what you want?”
I lowered the menu. “Haven’t got a clue.”
Dad laughed. “Trust me to order for you?”
“Of course.”
Halfway through our father-daughter date, we were interrupted.
I knew the moment the man in the expensive-looking grey suit appeared at our table and shook my father’s hand that something was up, especially when the guy turned and gave me one of those beyond perfect smiles. Teeth that white only existed in toothpaste ads. For a moment, I wondered if he was related to Brody from the party.
Dad smiled at me, and I could see a touch of pride in his eyes. “Quinn, I want to introduce you to my daughter, Cheyenne. Chey, this is Quinn Donovan, one of the executive producers of what hopefully will be my next project.”
I smiled as I caught the hint in Dad’s words.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Donovan,” I said as Quinn shook my hand.
“Pleasure to meet you,” Quinn said as he skirted the empty chair at our table and took a seat. “And please, call me Quinn. I’m not intruding, am I?”
’Course not. Just the first grown-up time I’ve had with my father in seventeen years. But I knew how important my dad’s career was right now, so I took a sip of my diet soda and opted to stay quiet. I was sure Quinn would have his drink with us, make smal
l talk, then take off for the night, leaving Dad and me to stop somewhere for ice cream after dinner. For some reason, I was craving Rocky Road.
“Special occasion?” Quinn asked as the waiter brought over his drink.
I glanced at Dad who nodded. Apparently, I could share my good news. “I just signed a deal with Rico Vanetti for the summer.”
“That’s great news.” Quinn smiled, lifting his glass in the air for a toast. “Congratulations.”
I felt a little embarrassed as the three of us clinked glasses. I’d been cursed with shyness, from my mother’s side, apparently, and now, couldn’t stop putting myself in situations where I was destined to be noticed. It suddenly felt like everyone in the restaurant had to be watching the three of us toasting something front and center.
“Thank you. I’m looking forward to it. Should be fun.”
“The experience should add some fun to her summer. I think spending all three months stuck with just me for company would have turned her off Los Angeles permanently.”
I smiled at Dad. “I’m hardly housebound.”
He turned to Quinn. “She’s been hanging out with Sorche Maxwell and JT.”
Quinn looked mildly surprised. “Good crowd to be moving in.”
I gave a little shrug. I didn’t see my friends as a ‘crowd.’
“I heard the trip to NYC didn’t go as well as you’d hoped,” Quinn said, obviously turning the conversation away from me.
I took a few more bites of the food on my plate, paying close attention to stabbing my lettuce just so. Not like I was mentally replacing my food with Quinn’s hand. I wasn’t that childish, was I? With any luck, he wouldn’t nurse his drink longer than necessary. I have to say I felt completely and utterly dismissed by the guy.
“I’m hoping I can salvage something from it.”
“I might have something better if you’re interested.”
I glanced up just in time to see Dad’s eyes light up, then flicker back down as he glanced at me. “We’ll have to set up a meeting.”
“What’s wrong with tonight?”
I bit my lip to keep from having a mini-outburst at that little comment. How about the fact he’d just commandeered our dinner conversation?
Quinn looked at me. “Would it be okay if I borrowed your dad?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could utter a word, Dad spoke up. “Chey, you don’t mind, do you?”
Oh, like I could possibly mind. I couldn’t exactly balk. Instead, I shrugged as he slipped the car keys into my hand.
“I’ll be fine.” The Escalade had GPS; I had my phone. I was sure I could find my way home. If not, I could always call Trish to give me directions. Or Sorche, even. She knew how to get to my place.
Quinn smiled as he rose from his seat. “We’ll make it up to you.”
Like I really believed that. What was he going to do?
“It’s fine, really. Dinner was practically over, anyways.” And then, there would have been a tour around town or something, but hey, don’t mind me. I’m only the daughter. No one important.
“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asked, taking my plate, probably expecting Dad to say the check.
I sighed and looked at Dad.
“You stay for a while, Chey. Soak in the atmosphere.” He smiled before turning to the waiter. “She’ll have a nice slice of Death by Chocolate. Extra drizzle.” He looked at me. “You sure you’re okay with this?”
For the first time, he looked a little unsure.
“’Course I am, especially now that you ordered me dessert.” So I was lying through my teeth. I didn’t need to make him feel any worse than I’m sure he felt taking off on me—at least, I hoped he felt.
The waiter brought him the check to sign. Then, after a quick hug for me, he and Quinn left.
I didn’t think watching him walk out the door would be the wisest move. What would that look like? A little too pathetic for words, I imagine. And really, right now, I could feel the curious gazes of people around us as Dad and Quinn left the table amongst the familiar murmurings of isn’t that…?
So instead, I took a sip of my water and pulled out my cell phone, making a show of checking for messages and praying the waiter would hurry up with that slice of cake.
What was he doing? Preparing it from scratch? Just throw the blasted thing in a cardboard box, for all that I cared, and bring it back to the table.
I took another sip of my almost flat soda, having had enough of the tasteless ice water just as the chair Dad had occupied slid back. I doubted Dad would have returned already. Quinn seemed to have something important to talk to him about.
I glanced up, almost not believing my eyes who stood there.
13
“Rico!” I looked up to see none other than the man who had discovered me standing there. I smiled warmly at my boss, feeling a lot better that I wasn’t sitting there all alone, the poor daughter abandoned in a strange restaurant no longer. “What are you doing here?”
Actually, I didn’t care why. I was just glad he was there.
He took Dad’s seat and motioned to a nearly concealed back corner. “We were having a quiet dinner out, and I saw your father leave. I wanted to invite you to join us.”
“Us?” I looked back at the corner, trying to distinguish the shadows at the table, but from where I was, they were well-hidden from view.
“A fellow designer, my wife, and…” he paused, giving me a lopsided smile. “My cousin-in-law, I think you know him. JT.”
I wanted to laugh as I sighed and tucked my cell phone back inside my purse. I couldn’t get rid of JT if I tried, apparently. I momentarily wondered if I had a tracking device on me.
“Are you sure? I was just going to head home after my dessert arrived.” I jingled the car keys for effect.
“We insist. Besides, we wanted to take you out anyways to celebrate. We’ll start tonight.”
Well, if that was the case, it would be rude not to go over, at least for a few minutes. Have my cake then take off for the night.
Rico stood and helped me from my chair before waving down the waiter and telling him to send the dessert, along with a fresh diet soda, to my new table.
“Looks like we’ve got company,” Rico announced as we reached his table.
I slid into the booth and found myself instantly beside JT, not expecting Rico to slide in beside me, trapping me where I was. There really was no place to move, except closer to JT. It could be worse, I reminded myself—I could have been stuck sitting there alone waiting an eternity for a simple slice of cake.
Rico smiled at me. “Everyone, this is Chey Daniels. My choice for the next big Hollywood ‘it girl’.”
“Hi,” I said a tad meekly, not used to having so much attention focused on me at one time. And there were a few other faces crowded around the booth now that I was sitting there that I didn’t know.
After a few quick introductions, everyone soon went back to their conversations, and I found myself sitting there talking with JT, who for once, acted surprisingly normal. Or at least, more normal than I ever gave him credit for. I chose to ignore the fact my heart beat a little faster any time I needed to scoot closer to him when Rico poured the glasses of champagne and began passing them around.
Honestly, I was glad Rico had come over. I’d felt pretty abandoned when Dad had taken off. Sure, I knew all about how important his career was, especially right now, but this was going to be hard to get over. We were celebrating my big news, and he just let Quinn swoop him away. I was sorta seeing what Mom meant; a few more episodes like this and I could, maybe even would, become disillusioned about the guy.
Not that I thought he was perfect, because over the years, I’d realized he wasn’t. The missed holidays, the time he didn’t get to see my first school play. When he didn’t come to my sweet sixteen party. Missing my grad. And the piece de resistance, forgetting my seventeenth birthday, which I totally know he did because I recognized Trish’s handwri
ting on the memo in his date book tucked in his desk drawer. It explained my free reign shopping spree.
And the way he’d promised we’d celebrate both our birthdays together this summer, my eighteenth and his thirty-ninth—yeah, I wasn’t holding my breath on that one.
I loved my dad, don’t get me wrong. He was a great guy. It’s just that he wasn’t in the running for the world’s greatest dad. Sure, he tried. Like the car and having me visit for the summer, but I really don’t think he knew what to do with me half the time. Hence his over-eagerness about my modeling, something to occupy my time and keep my focus off my absentee daddy.
Cruel Summer Page 17
