“You’re too old for me. I know.”
He chuckled. “Exactly. But, I’ll escort you. As friends. Deal?” He held out his hand for me to shake.
I reached up with trembling fingers and tucked my hair behind my ears. “I’d love that, Bobby. But I don’t know if my parents will go for it.”
“Relax. I’ll ask your dad. It’ll be fine.” He thrust his hand a little closer. “So, deal?”
I broke into the hugest grin ever, then shook his hand. “Deal. I’d love to go to prom. As friends.”
“Friends. Always.”
After that, I chilled out enough for us to have a real conversation. I asked him about his music, and he asked me about my career aspirations. I confided in him about how hard it was to deal with everyone’s expectations that I’d follow in my dad’s footsteps. “I don’t want to be a singer,” I told him. “Regardless of the fact that I have the skills, it’s just not what I want to do.”
“What is your dream, Caressa?”
I didn’t want to sound like the ultimate dreamer, but I felt so close to Bobby, I didn’t want to lie. “I want to be a makeup artist on Broadway.”
He nodded decisively, and he didn’t even act like I was dreaming way too big. “Then do it, girl. Go for it with every ounce of your passion.”
“You think so? You think I could actually do it?”
“Heck yeah. Take it from me. You can do anything you believe you can do.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “And forget the singing if it’s not your thing. The only dreams worth living are those you feel passionate about. I come from a family of surgeons, and it was always expected that I’d toe the Slade family line and go to medical school, too.”
“Did you ever want to become a doctor?”
He shook his head and cringed. “Blood makes me dizzy.”
That cracked me up. “Singing makes me tired. But makeup brings me alive.”
“Listen to your own words. Go forth and paint, Caressa. Follow your passion, and everything else will fall into place.”
I smiled at Bobby and knew, without a doubt, that fate hadn’t been wrong leading me to him. Not because we were destined to fall in love, but because I needed to hear the things he had to say.
And hey, I had an escort to prom!
Not just ANY escort, but the supersexy BOBBY SLADE.
Rock on!
epilogue
The three of us were looking so freakin’ babe-a-licious in our prom dresses, we couldn’t tear ourselves away from the mirror. Meryl’s was jade green taffeta, mine was red satin, and Caressa’s was a goddesslike champagne-colored silk (it looked like a dress Nicole Kidman would wear to the Oscars—no lie!). Pair the dresses with Caressa’s skilled makeup jobs, and I don’t think any of us had ever felt so gorgeous before.
Our dates were expected at any moment when my dad knocked on the bathroom door. “Girls?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
“Come on out so I can get some pictures before the guys arrive.”
We all started mugging in front of the mirror, acting like high-fashion models. “Vogue, Vogue—strike a pose,” I told my pals. We busted into gales of laughter; quickly stuffed our evening purses with lipsticks, breath mints, little cameras, and other important items; and then strutted out to the living room. My dad snapped photos until we all started to whine, and then he told me, “Lila, I’d like to speak to you in the kitchen for a moment.”
I stifled a groan. Here it came. The obligatory no drinking, no sex, no blah blah blah, no FUN speech. And just when I was feeling so happy and excited.
I followed my dad into the kitchen and leaned my back against the counters, watching him with a droll look on my face. I would’ve crossed my arms, but I didn’t want to mess up my dress. “Okay, what’s up, Dad?”
He crossed his arms and smiled at me. “You look so lovely, Lila Jane. It makes my heart hurt. You look so much like your mother when she was young.”
A burst of pleasure made me look away. “Thanks.” I wanted to lighten the mood, because the sudden realization that Mom couldn’t be here for my very first prom night sort of bummed me out. “But, don’t you want to give me your stern fatherly speech before the guys get here?”
“Speech?” My dad frowned. “That’s not why I called you in here.”
Huh? “Oh. What, then?”
“I wanted to give you this.” He reached into his back pocket, extracted his wallet, and unfolded it. I thought at first that he was giving me money, which ruled in any situation. Imagine my surprise when he pulled out a brand spankin’ new Colorado driver’s license and passed it over. It even had my good picture on it!
My jaw dropped, and I gaped at the license for a few moments before grinning at my father. “Why … when—?”
“You earned it, Lila. I’m so proud of you.”
“Still?” I curled my fingers around the license, loving the feel of it in my hand.
“Always.”
“So, then—”
“Don’t ask me about the car, my dear daughter.”
I was so happy, I didn’t even pout. Instead, I laughed and threw my arms around Dad’s neck. “I love you, Daddy.”
“Love you, too, baby. Have fun at prom.” We pulled apart, and he narrowed his gaze. “Do I have to give you my fatherly speech about the evening?”
I giggled. “Um, no.”
“I didn’t think so.” He kissed my forehead.
The guys rolled up a few minutes later in, no lie, a big freakin’ limousine. Meryl and Caressa and I were standing on the front porch all ultra-chill and diva-like, but then that sexy beast of a ride turned into the driveway. For us! Our cool expressions morphed into something resembling a pre-freak-out in triplicate, and we stood staring at the gleaming black stretch in suspended animation for several excited moments. Finally I smacked Caressa in the arm, she grabbed Meryl’s hand, and we all broke into maniacal laughter.
“This so totally rocks, chicas,” I said. “A few months ago, we couldn’t even pay for dates to homecoming, and now we’re going to prom in a LIMO.”
“Yes,” Meryl said, on a sigh. “It’s like a dream come true. A dream I never even imagined!”
“I can’t believe Bobby brought a limo,” Caressa added, in a dazzled tone of voice.
“I believe it,” I said, hooking my elbows with my two best pals in the whole universe. “Because we deserve it.”
“You’re right!” they said, in stereo.
I guided them down the steps and toward the limousine, feeling strong and sexy and filled with hope. “I just thought of something,” I told them.
“What?” Meryl asked.
I glanced at her, then smiled at Caressa. “If a year that started out so sucky could end so great, just imagine what surprises senior year might hold!”
Who's Your Daddy? Page 19
