“That’s great, Chey,” he finally said, and if anyone didn’t know better, they’d think he sounded genuinely happy, but I caught the slightest strain in his voice.
“Thanks, Dad.” I turned my gaze away, making a show of looking at my watch. “You know, I forgot I have a couple errands to run. Be back in a while,” I said as I quickly scooped my keys off the table and hurried out the open patio doors. “You guys have breakfast, the hash browns will be done in a few. I probably made more than enough, anyways.”
Okay, that was a total lie; the only errand I needed to run right then was to get away from my father’s disappointment.
I was halfway to the garage and sweet escape when Trish caught up to me.
“He’s a big boy, Chey. He’ll get over everything.”
I nodded, glad I had my sunglasses on to mask my glassy eyes. At least, I was getting good at holding my tears back. But I wasn’t sure my voice wouldn’t betray me, so I stayed silent.
“You want to go for a drive? Check out the billboard? Maybe they’ve put up some of the others?”
I took a deep breath.
“I think I’ve seen it enough.” For a lifetime, actually.
“C’mon, I’m not going to let you spend the day moping around. Not the behavior of a girl getting the number of invites you are.”
My curiosity won out in spite of everything. “Yeah?”
“I have a folder of messages and emails on your bed waiting for your perusal.”
“Maybe I should get it and take it to Sor’s.”
Trish smiled, a look of relief crossing her face. “That sounds like a great idea. I’ll go grab it for you.”
Half an hour later, I was holed up in Sorche’s bedroom. I’d caught her mid-yoga routine when I arrived at the door. She’d quickly ended it, though, when she heard about my horrible morning. Now, the bright blue folder from Trish sat in her lap, and I was sprawled out on top of her bed, the bowl of chocolate chunk ice cream she’d gotten me in hand. I may have forgotten all about my late breakfast, but it could never be too early for ice cream.
Sor swiveled in her modern office chair, a piece of cherry licorice dangling from the corner of her mouth. “So, let me get this straight. Your dad is having issues because you’re suddenly one of the hottest things going?”
She closed the folder on the stack of papers thicker than I’d imagined.
I stretched out a little more, adjusting the pillow behind my head
“Pretty much. You should have seen him.” I traced patterns in my ice cream before spooning up a chocolate chunk. “I mean, I know he tried to sound cool about it, but the man isn’t that good of an actor.”
“He sounds awful selfish, Chey.”
“Selfish?”
“What would you call it? Totally unsupportive, at best?”
“Blind-sided. He could never have thought this little modeling thing would take off like this.”
“When Rico said the pictures were amazing, you should have known.”
How could I have known anything? I was still maneuvering blind.
I didn’t want to argue about Dad with anyone. Especially when, deep down, I knew Sorche was right. He should have been happy things were going well for me. Not my fault his career was where it was. He should have been making use of his time off and spending some of it with me, like he’d promised in all those impassioned phone calls when he and Mom had been working this little trip of mine out. Or had that been acting, too? a little voice in the back of my mind rang out.
Instead, I felt relegated to the back seat while he did whatever he deemed necessary to keep things going for himself.
“Chey?”
“Sorry.” I finished off my ice cream and set it aside. “Any good invites?”
“There’s a few that have definite potential. I put them on the top. But I think I know what you need.”
I looked at her skeptically. Right now, hiding from the world—and more importantly, my problems—seemed like numero uno. “What do I need?”
She smiled. “An afternoon with me. We’ll go drive around, maybe hit up Rodeo. We can play tourist. Come on, I know you’re dying to check out Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. Then we can find someplace cool and low-key for lunch. My treat.”
I sighed, getting to my feet as she grabbed her purse and her car keys. “No more Dad talk?”
“Not a word.”
After spending the afternoon walking all around the Hollywood and Highland Centre, Sor drove by Rico’s new store on the way back. The huge windows were covered in the graffiti version of the ads to keep anyone from seeing inside before the great unveiling. The House of Vanetti logo was imprinted all over the photos, and the sunglasses I’d worn in the shots reflected the logo back in a hologram finish. All in all, pretty impressive, I had to admit.
“See? Do you think Adriana could’ve gotten half this much attention?” Sor asked as she parked across the street and motioned to the windows.
I knew she was trying to make me feel better, and I appreciated it. But right now, all it was doing was making me wonder if I’d done the right thing agreeing to any of this in the first place. Not just Rico’s offer, but coming to L.A. for the summer.
I managed a small smile. “Probably not.”
At least if she did, she’d probably handle it oh so much better than how I was currently dealing.
Maybe it was time I adopted a bit of JT’s attitude—like he said, L.A. was at my feet right now, and maybe it really was mine for the taking. And what better time to start?
Even if Dad didn’t exactly acknowledge his less than stellar performance in the role of supporting father, it didn’t mean I needed to ruin my summer over it. I was a big girl; I could deal. Besides, opportunities like this didn’t come around that often.. I wasn’t about to blow it.
“You’re right.”
Sor smiled. “Good. I know just the thing to pick you up.”
“Here we go…”
“Seriously, this is good.” She reached into the backseat and pulled out the folder from my bag. “Top sheet.”
I lifted the cover and looked at the faxed-over invite. Some club opening that would be thrilled for the newest ‘Face of Vanetti’ to make her appearance.
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “Totally. Forget your dad. It’s not happening, right? Do something for you.” She tapped the paper. “This sounds like the perfect night out. Take JT.”
“Don’t you want to go?” I looked at the date.
“Already have plans, my dear,” she said with a mischievous wink as she pulled the vehicle back into traffic.
“Oh, no, Milo?”
“Not saying a word.”
But the grin on her face told me the truth.
“Good, keep it that way,” I said with a laugh as I opened the folder back up and looked at the sheet. There was an RSVP thing at the bottom. I supposed Trish could confirm I was going.
“Well?” she asked as I put the folder back where it had been.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go. It’s part of working for Rico.”
“Good. Besides, once you’re totally unveiled, I’ve got a few spots we can hit, too. I was an ‘it girl’ once myself, you know.” She laughed as we pulled in traffic.
It was true. Around her sixteenth birthday, Sorche had suddenly caught a lot of attention for a photo spread she’d done with her mom in some big magazine, and she’d been labelled the ‘it girl’ for a good few months until the next one had arrived, some actress with a partying habit that made JT’s bad boy days look positively saintly.
Adriana.
22
Everything was pretty well taken care of for Dad’s party.
Thanks to Trish and the event coordinator she’d hired, all we had to do was show up and have a good time. I invited Sor to come along—since obviously, Milo, was going to be there—and JT, too, so I wouldn’t be sitting at a table all by my lonesome. Not the look for your next ‘it girl.’
Besides, it ga
ve me the perfect opportunity to wear my favorite new red dress.
I stood in the front hallway, the large package the courier had dropped off an hour before resting against my legs. Lorna had not only had the poster from the shoot framed for me, but wrapped, as well. I’d added the sparkly, black and silver metallic bow, and taped the card underneath, waiting anxiously for Dad to come down.
For once, it was me waiting for him.
I’d decided to forgive him for the other day, for missing my big billboard launch. All I knew was it wasn’t worth ruining his birthday over.
“Any time now, Dad,” I called upstairs, hearing the clock down the hall chime seven-thirty.
The car was going to be here soon to take us to the club for the party, and I wanted to give him the present before we left. I think that was one reason Trish had said she had things to take care of, even though the coordinator had assured us that morning that everything was perfect.
I heard his footsteps near the stairs and looked up to see him jogging down the steps, doing up the buttons on his black silk shirt.
“Happy birthday, Dad.”
“Thank you, Chey.” He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and smiled, glancing down at the package I was holding. “What’s this?”
I carefully lifted it up. It was heavier than I expected it to be. “My present.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Come on, I’ve gotten you birthday presents since I was in diapers. Well, back then, I wasn’t exactly the one picking them out.”
I smiled as he took the frame from me easily and walked to the couch.
I felt a little too nervous to sit, so I pulled out my phone and snapped a few shots of him before I perched on the edge of the sofa.
“Can I open it now?”
I nodded eagerly. “Really wish you would.”
He laughed and pulled the card away. I’d opted not to go sappy. Instead, it was a short and sweet, standard issue ‘happy birthday’ card. He smiled as he read it before he set it up on the corner table. “Chey, you didn’t need to go to all this trouble.”
“It wasn’t much trouble.”
Once the idea had hit, anyway. I was afraid I’d have to go with JT’s suggestion of an assortment of car rags and waxes for the classic car, a gift which didn’t seem to shout from your loving daughter. But JT swore it would be practical. I wasn’t sure I wanted practical.
I put the phone in recording mode and watched as he tore the wrapping paper off, his eyes widening as he saw the framed poster. Not quite the one on the billboard, but instead, the first shot of the day. He stared at it in silence for a while, and I finally turned the recorder off, before putting the phone down in my lap.
The silence was starting to get to me.
“Do you like it?”
So maybe it wasn’t the perfect gift I’d thought it was. I should have gone with a gift card or something a little more Dad-friendly. Maybe I should have had Trish take me down to some of his favorite stores and I could’ve picked up something new, something that was the latest version of something he already had. At least then, I’d know he’d be guaranteed to like it.
Or ask Trish to get something she knew he’d love. That likely would have been the safest bet.
I was ready to reach out and take the framed print away, saying something about taking it home with me, when he looked up at me suddenly and I saw the unshed tears in his eyes.
“It’s beautiful.” He looked down at it again, shifting the frame slightly. “You’re beautiful.”
“I thought you could hang it in your office or wherever. There’s a lot of space down that hallway.”
“That’s the perfect place for it.” He rose, the frame clutched against his chest.
“Where are you going?” I asked as he moved by me.
“The office. We might as well hang it now, right? That way, it won’t get damaged leaning against the wall somewhere or lying on top of the desk where something could drop on it.”
I let out an inaudible sigh and followed him past his movie posters that lined the downstairs hallway and into his office. I took the frame from him while he stood in the middle of the room, studying the walls. At last, he moved behind his desk and pulled down one of his first movie posters.
My jaw dropped as I realized what he was doing. “Are you serious?”
Okay, I really needed to work on that ‘thinking and not speaking’ bit.
“Why wouldn’t I be? This way, I can show off my beautiful daughter to anyone who comes in here.”
He leaned the framed movie poster against his desk and took my frame from me. Thankfully, Lorna already had it set for hanging. Within seconds, it was on the wall, looking like it had always been there.
“Looks great, doesn’t it?” He leveled it a little before stepping back beside me.
I had to agree. “Looks perfect.”
“Almost as amazing as you do tonight.”
Dad turned and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug, and for a moment, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, like everything was right in the world.
But the moment was broken by the sudden and loud echo of a car horn from the front of the house, no doubt the driver, tired of waiting with the limo at the gate.
“Ready to party?” Dad asked as we left the room and he turned the light off.
“Ready,” I said as I took one last look over my shoulder at the poster hanging there. A definite sign that even if Dad didn’t say it often, he was proud of me.
23
The limo door opened, and Dad stepped out first, turning to help me out. There were a few paparazzi outside, snapping happily away as we made our way to the double black doors of the club.
“Happy birthday, Sean,” one of them called as we passed.
“Thank you.”
“Who’s that with you?”
Dad smiled and took my arm, posing us for the photo. “This is my wonderful daughter, Chey. She’s in town to celebrate with me.”
More flashbulbs went off, and I managed to smile, wishing I’d thought to wear my sunglasses against the sudden unexpected glare.
I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust.
“Who are you wearing?” a woman called from the corner.
I wasn’t sure whether she was paparazzi or someone who just liked my dress.
“Rico Vanetti,” I answered, squeezing Dad’s hand tightly, feeling more than slightly overwhelmed at all the attention.
“Thanks, guys.” Dad gave a quick wave, and we headed to the door that miraculously opened when we neared.
“You handled that like a pro,” he confided once we were inside.
“Yeah?” Honestly, my heart was racing, and I was doing my best not to show the way my hands were shaking now that I’d let go of his.
He nodded. “Absolutely. C’mon. Let me show you off.”
We walked deeper into the club, through the foyer that had HAPPY BIRTHDAY spelled out in giant silver balloons. Inside the club itself, the lights were already going above us, casting multi-colored streams on everyone below. There was a fair number of people inside, at least fifty or more that I could see milling around. Waiters in black suits made their way around, carrying trays of drinks and food. Trish had set up light snacks early on, and then the big birthday meal at midnight for those who stuck around.
I followed Dad through the crowd, nodding at a couple of now familiar faces until he stopped at one group in particular. Two actors who starred on some of my favorite shows and their wives stood there by one of the tables.
“Happy Birthday, man,” one of the actors said with a big smile, giving Dad one of those one armed guy hugs. He smiled at me as he pulled back.
“Thanks, glad you guys could all make it.” Dad smiled and nudged me further into the group. “This is my daughter, Chey. She’s out here for the summer and just signed a really nice deal with Rico Vanetti. Some of her billboards for his new line just went up this week.”
“That’s great news, congratulations,” one of the wives said.
“Thank you.”
“Whereabouts?”
I rattled off the street where the first one went up, and she said she’d go by to take a look, congratulating me again on such a big deal, saying how much she liked Rico’s work. I wasn’t sure whether or not Rico wanted me unveiled per se so much yet, but I guess it didn’t matter now that the boards were up. The ads would come out any day now, and as Sorche had told me in a text, my whole world was about to change. Especially when the store opened.
Cruel Summer Page 26
