Who's Your Daddy? (26 page)

“Come in.”

I opened the door. My gaze met Bobby’s briefly, but I yanked it away. “Hi,” I croaked.

“You sound plain awful,
chérie.
How do you feel?”

“Terrible,” I said. Understatement.

My dad crossed the room and felt my forehead and cheek. It was such a sweet, almost momlike thing to do.
I smiled at him. “I’m going to go see about some honey tea for your throat. You visit with Bobby while I’m gone,” he said pointedly. So much for a natural segue.

The studio door opened, then shut behind my retreating dad with a slam that sounded like a prison gate locking. I jumped, clenching my fists at my sides. After a moment, I released a breath and smiled tremulously at Bobby.

He smiled back, and he looked pitying. Was it because of my stupidity? UGH!!

“Sorry about your voice, Caressa. You must be disappointed to have missed opening night.”

Man, was he hot. “Yeah.” I tried to clear my throat, but it made me cough. When the bout ended and I was certain I hadn’t hacked up a lung on the floor, I sank onto the edge of the sofa that ran along one wall of the studio. “Um … Bobby, I wanted to say … I’m sorry.” Perched on the edge of my seat, I tried to follow Meryl’s advice to speak from the heart. Really, what other choice did I have?

He set his guitar aside and crossed the studio to sit on the couch beside me. “For what?”

“For … you know.”
Sure, make me say it out loud.
“For
tricking you.” I flicked him a furtive, embarrassed glance beneath my lashes, then refocused on my lap. “To get you up here. I’m sure it was awful calling my dad just to find out he’d never written that letter in the first place.”

“Not so bad, actually.”

His words brought my head up, and my eyes went round with surprise. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Was being a little embarrassed worth it in order to meet Tibby Lee? Hell, yeah. And now look what’s transpired.”

“W-what?”

“He’s going to produce my next single.”

Shock zinged through me. “He is?”

“Yep.” He leaned in and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial purr. “If you think about it, Caressa, I actually owe you.”

I crinkled my nose, but my spirits lifted. “You aren’t mad then? To have been lured up to Colorado by deluded jailbait?”

Bobby barked a laugh. “No. It’s all good, Caressa. No harm, no foul.”

I blew out a breath of relief. “Thank God.”

“But tell me something.”

“What?”

“How did the whole thing come about?”

ACK!
Ladies and Gents, welcome to White Peaks’ production of “Hello, I’m a Dumbass,” starring Caressa Thibodoux
. I gulped back my mortification and gave him the glossed-over,
Reader’s Digest
version of the dumb supper and the events that followed. I could feel my face and neck grow hotter the more I explained. “The thing is, we were really just trying to find dates for junior prom, and it all got out of hand.”

He crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “Prom, huh? Believe me, I can see how that would be a motivation.” He rubbed his jawline with the back of his knuckles. “You know, I never got to attend either of my proms.”

“Why not?” Surely girls would have paid hard, cold cash to go to prom with the lethally hot Bobby Slade.

“Well, work, I guess. I released my first album when I was sixteen.” He made a regretful face. “By the time prom rolled around, I was working long hours in the studio. No time to go.”

Wow. I hadn’t thought of that at all. “That sucks.” I hunched my shoulders up and then relaxed them on a
sigh. “But, it looks like I’ll be in the same boat, except without the excuse of working.”

“Tell you what.” He dipped his chin and studied me. “You and I both know I’m way too old for you, right? We’re on the same page there?”

“Uh, yeah. Totally.” God, KILL ME NOW.

“But, I’d still like to know what it’s like to attend a prom.”

My throat tightened, and I blinked up at him in disbelief. Was he saying—?

“How about—as a thank you for hooking me up with your pops—how about I fly back up here and escort you to your prom.”

The world stopped.

My heart stopped.

Thankfully, my bladder function also stopped.

Had Bobby Slade just asked me to prom?

“Are you kidding me?”

He grinned. “Not at all. It won’t be a date, of course, because—”

“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!

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!”