I sighed and went along with her. And sure enough, we were still making our way towards it when the music started. Dean Martin, if I was guessing right. I vaguely recognized the voice from those old movies Mom and I watched sometimes on TV.
I stood beside Sor and watched the fountain dance, amongst a growing crowd of spectators, most I assumed were tourists, given the amount of phones pulled out and aimed at the fountain. Was it odd I suddenly felt above camera phones? Even so, I pulled mine out and snapped a few shots of the fountain and had Sor take a quick one of me with the fountain background to text Mom.
When the show was over, Sor clapped and grinned. “All right, lunch time. My treat. What do you feel like?”
“Whatever isn’t packed,” I said as we crossed the street and headed past an outdoor café already filled to capacity. I didn’t feel like having to stand in line forever just to be seated.
“Let’s see what we can find.”
Half an hour later, we were sitting at a nice table at The Cheesecake Factory, menus in front of us while the waitress dropped off our drinks. I tensed as I saw Adriana in the distance and lifted my menu a tad higher, but Sor gave me a puzzled look, no doubt thinking I was avoiding JT before she followed my gaze.
“Shouldn’t she be, oh I don’t know, busy tormenting small children or something?” Sor commented as she turned back to me.
“I wish.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her get closer. So far, it looked like she hadn’t noticed us. Maybe we’d get lucky and she wouldn’t. “Maybe she’ll just keep going.”
No such luck.
I should have crossed my fingers…and my legs…and my toes and anything else I could have crossed.
I caught sight of the black and red Manolos beside our table as I pretended to scour the menu before I looked up at the sound of her indiscreet cough.
Talk about crying out for attention. “Hi, Adriana.”
Her eyes narrowed as she ignored me. “Sorche. Wyoming.”
Wow. I never expected that much venom out of something that wasn’t wearing snakeskin and could be classified as a reptile. Maybe I should have taken a closer look at the shoes.
“It’s Chey,” I corrected her, trying to keep my voice light and sugary sweet. As Mom always tried to tell me, letting anyone see they got to you was giving them the upper hand. Something I was sure Adriana already had enough of.
She huffed slightly. “Whatever. I hear you’re getting a billboard.”
Oh, she was allowing herself to acknowledge my presence.
“More than one,” Sorche said before I could utter a word, and I was glad she was the only one I’d confided in. But then again, how the heck had Adriana found out? Rico had said mum’s the word, and I couldn’t see Sorche talking to her, period. “What are you doing this summer, Adri?”
“Other than counting down Chey’s fifteen minutes?” Her smile looked sweeter than the cheesecake I’d seen go by our table earlier. “Keeping up on my auditions and the party circuit. I hear your dad’s having his what? Fiftieth birthday this week?” She tilted her head to look at me.
“Thirty-ninth, actually.” I smiled back just as sweetly. “Shame you won’t be there.”
“Actually…” She stood straighter, an almost evil grin crossing her face like I’d fallen right into her trap, pulling out her cell phone. “Mom got the invite this morning, so I guess I’ll see you two there.” She looked giddy. “Have a good lunch. I’d go with the salad, much more slimming,” she said as she walked away, giving a little finger wave.
I waited ’til she was out of earshot. “Okay, tell me she’s joking.”
“About what?”
I didn’t mean the salad. “The party. I mean, did you get an invite?”
Sorche nodded. “Trish had one sent to me, and Mom got hers a month ago, at least. She’s really looking forward to it. So if her mom got hers this morning…she may have been on a secondary list.” No doubt that comment was meant to console me.
“She really wouldn’t come, would she?” I asked, my gaze on her retreating back.
“I doubt it. She’s probably just trying to tick you off. C’mon, forget Adriana. She’s not worth the energy.”
“Yeah, you’re absolutely right,” I said with a determined smile on my face as I turned my attention back to the menu.
She could try all she wanted, but I wasn’t going to let Adriana ruin anything for me.
20
The next few days flew by. Sorche took me with her to her yoga classes, and Dad and I actually managed to fit in a couple sessions of rollerblading at the beach. We even snuck in a late night snack down at Pink’s. I’d promised Trish I’d keep the two days before Dad’s party open to help her out with the last-minute preparations. We had to pick up the goody bags in the afternoon and make sure they got to the club bright and early the next morning.
Sitting in the living room with Trish, my cereal bowl in hand, I ate while she double-checked the to-do lists on her tablet.
“Do you have any idea what you’re going to get him?”
I shrugged. “I still have time. Besides, does he really need anything but my smiling face there?”
After all, this was the first time in years I was spending the day with him. Usually, I had to mail the package to whatever city he was filming in. Or like last year, send it to Trish’s ’til he got back from the latest shoot.
At least now, I knew who the M. signature on the delivery confirmation was.
Milo.
Trish laughed. “I think that’s all the gift your dad needs.”
I was about to down the last of my cereal when the cordless started to ring.
“I’ll grab it.” I jumped to my feet, setting my bowl on the coffee table as I swiped the phone off the edge. “Hello.”
“Chey! I’ve been trying to reach you everywhere.”
An excited female voice greeted me, one that I knew right away wasn’t Sor. Or Mom, thankfully.
“Lorna?”
“That’s me. I tried your cell, texting you, and even called Sorche trying to track you down.”
I instantly felt bad over making her do all that trying to get a hold of me. I thought of my cell phone sitting upstairs on its charger. “I guess I must have accidentally turned the cell off when I plugged it in when I got up this morning. What do you need?”
“I hope you’re free this morning, because two hours from now, your first billboard’s going up.”
The phone slid out of my hand and hit the coffee table with an echoing thud, loud enough that Trish turned to look at me from where she sat working at the corner desk.
“You okay, Chey? Something wrong?”
My mouth was suddenly terribly dry, and I couldn’t even form the words to tell her. My mouth opened, but nothing but a wisp of air came out.
I could hear Lorna’s voice calling my name from the phone, and I reached out to grab it, putting it back to my ear and prayed my voice would be there. “D-did you say billboard?”
Trish came over and guided me back to the nearest chair, since I must have looked like I felt—like I was about to pass out. I managed a weak whispered thank you.
I was totally light-headed as Lorna spoke.
“I thought Rico told you. The proofs were so amazing, we went straight into mock-ups with the billboards and rushed them. The first one’s going up this morning. I thought you’d want to be there to see it.”
“I can’t believe this.” I blinked, suddenly feeling very unprepared as my heart thudded erratically in my chest.
Trish moved around to stand in front of me, looking seriously concerned. She took the phone, and after a few seconds of conversation, broke out into a big smile. “That’s terrific news. We’ll see you there.”
She clicked the phone off and beamed at me. “This is so exciting for you, Chey. Go up and change. I’ll get my keys and borrow your dad’s camera. See if you can get a hold of him. He should still be at the gym. He could probably meet us down there. I can text h
im the address on the way. I’ll meet you in the driveway.”
I managed a nod as I put my hand on the armrest to push myself up to my feet. I didn’t know which I felt more at that moment—numb, panic, or sheer terror at the thought that this was really happening. Sure, the photo shoot was one thing, but to have the product of that photo shoot suddenly taking up the side of a building meant a whole other matter. Some part deep inside kept screaming I want my mommy. Or Daddy.
Less than an hour later, Trish and I were in the front of her black Audi convertible, the roof down as we stared up at the side of the appointed building, with Sorche in the backseat. Apparently, Trish had called her in for moral support—which to be honest, I totally needed right now. As I watched the two guys climb up, I began to realize this was very, very surreal.
“I can’t believe your dad is going to miss this,” Trish said as she checked the camera one more time before aiming it at the crew who were about to start putting up the billboard.
“He said he’d be here the moment he could,” I assured her, trying to stay cool and calm, but the nerves dancing in my stomach could give the entire cast of Dancing with the Stars a run for their money.
I shifted to look at Sorche who moved to sit on top of the backseat, ready to record the moment for posterity—or blackmail, which would probably be the more useful and wiser choice.
Right now, I’d pay a pretty penny of my modeling fee—more words not in my vocab ’til this mistake-filled summer began—to keep this hot little bit of footage from reaching my mother’s hands—or inbox before I had the chance to explain. I had a feeling Mom and I better have a little chat over Skype sooner than later, before she somehow found out on her own.
Trish nudged me. “Come on, Chey. Aren’t you the least bit excited?”
I tilted my head back and watched the progress on the billboard as they smoothed up one more section on the wall. I could see the edge of my dress, and I thought I knew which shot they’d used, slightly different from the one on the mockup I’d seen. This was one of the first where I was leaning against the doorjamb, my shoes dangling from my fingers. My aviator shades would cover my eyes, and my hair would be slightly windblown, helping to give me that whole ‘mystery girl’ look.
“Okay, a little,” I admitted as I pulled my own phone out of my purse to take a couple shots. It wasn’t every day that a photo of me was being put up on the side of a building. But then again, life in Los Angeles was pretty much like nothing I’d known before.
I did my best to shove all my nervousness and self-doubt aside, leaning back to watch the rest of my red dress slowly appear on the wall. And as I watched, I had the perfect idea of what to get for Dad’s birthday. While Trish snapped and Sorche filmed, I made a quick call to Lorna, who turned out to be pulling into a parking spot just down the street to watch the progress, too. She thought it was a great idea and told me she’d have it delivered before the party.
I ended the call just in time to see the last three pieces go up on the wall to a round of applause from Trish and Sor.
***
“I’m sorry I missed it, kid.”
Dad set down the large paper-wrapped bouquet on my bed and kissed my forehead as I texted Sorche. She was going to upload the video she’d shot so I could do something with it. What, I wasn’t quite sure. I figured I’d tell Mom before I emailed it to her. I don’t think she could handle the shock of following a link to see me grinning back at her from the side of a building. She’d end up at the front door before I knew it. And who could blame her?
“It’s okay. Trish took a lot of pictures, including ones of me standing nearby and pointing up at it.” I tilted my head back to look at him as he took a seat on the edge of my bed. “Plus, there’s still a few more going up.” Seven, at last count according to Lorna. “You can catch one of those.”
But it wouldn’t be the same, I bit my lip to keep from saying. Instead, I continued on, finally putting my dormant acting genes to good use. “How was your morning?”
“Long.” He stretched his legs out in front of him. “I brought you your favorite Fire and Ice roses.” He carefully lifted the taped cover and pulled them free of their wrap.
In spite of the small rush of disappointment that he hadn’t missed my big moment for something major, like getting a part at the last minute, or having some sort of power meeting with Quinn or whoever, I smiled as I took the flowers, inhaling their strong, sweet scent. The little girl inside me, the supposed inner child, was smiling, almost jumping up and down to get my attention, almost as if to say see, he still cares.
Yeah, but just not enough to be there for my big moment.
“I know they don’t make up for missing out on the billboard. But I did drive by on my way home. You look great up there. A total natural.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m proud of you, Chey.”
Those words almost made up for him not being there, I thought as I took the empty vase from the top of my dresser and headed into the bathroom to put my roses in water.
Keyword: almost.
I was still upset he’d missed my big moment, and for what? An extra hour with his trainer and a business lunch?
He still didn’t say what the big excuse was…what topped my moment.
But as I put the flowers back on the corner of my desk and patted the ever present e-mail in my shorts pocket, I knew I was in California because Dad wanted me there. And even if we weren’t spending 24/7 together, we were still spending more time together then I ever would have gotten back at home.
21
“I’ve already had calls about you,” Trish said with a warm smile a few mornings later as I walked into the kitchen in my pajama shorts and tank top.
Dad was on a conference call—again—so I was left on my own to make breakfast, which I didn’t mind. Better than watching Dad dig around the cupboards, coming up with protein bars and flavorless oatmeal like he had that one morning, before he’d decided we’d be better off going out somewhere for pancakes.
I grabbed the carton of eggs and the butter from the fridge, dropped a dollop of butter in the empty frying pan on the stove before adding a couple of the eggs. I put some slices of bread into the toaster and hit the button, before grabbing the frozen hash browns out of the freezer and putting them in a separate pan on the stove.
“What? Me?”
Total surprise. I mean, why would anyone call about me? Okay, so I guess it wasn’t like I was some deep, dark secret. My baby picture had been splashed across the cover of People magazine when I was born, and I guess they’d covered the divorce and all…I had the bookmarked Google searches to prove that fascinating little tidbit. But still, I couldn’t believe anyone had any interest in an unknown like moi.
She nodded. “You look surprised. Really surprised.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I put the eggs and butter back in the fridge, grabbing the juice and putting it on the table. “Why are they calling?”
“After the billboard, people asked people who might have had an idea who you were, who contacted me since I’m your dad’s assistant. You don’t have anyone, so I thought I’d take care of it—unless you want to find your own somebody to handle things?”
I laughed as I finished scrambling the eggs I’d thrown in the pan and put them on two plates. I double checked the hash browns and turned the heat up a little. The toast popped up, and I set them on a platter before putting it on the table.
“I thought Sor was kidding when she said I’d need a publicist and an assistant.”
“Rico said you’re destined to be the next ‘it girl’ from the start. Looks like the ball’s already begun rolling.”
Down the hilly streets of San Francisco at full speed, if the stack of messages that were piled on top of the kitchen counter were any indication.
I grabbed a slice of toast from where I’d just set the platter on the table.
“Seriously?” I took a bite of my toast.
“Every phone call, email, and fax thi
s morning is about you.”
“It’s all been for Chey?”
Dad’s voice startled the both of us, and we turned to see him standing in the doorway, his cell phone in hand. I caught the look that flashed across his face at Trish’s news. All the calls, all the everything, had been about me and my billboard, not Dad’s possible new deal.
I ducked my head in embarrassment and felt Trish’s hand brush my shoulder. Instinctively, I knew she’d seen the same thing I had. The silence seemed like an eternity but probably didn’t last more than a few painful seconds.
Cruel Summer Page 25
