Cruel Summer Page 4

  ***

  I was right into the musical episode of Buffy, belting out the lyrics along with Willow, when the doorbell rang. Everything in me froze, hoping whoever stood on the other side of the door couldn’t hear my horrible off-key singing. I paused the episode and headed barefoot across the living room to the front door, peering through the peep hole to see a delivery guy in a black T-shirt and matching baseball cap.

  I opened the door cautiously, about to tell him he had the wrong house.

  “Pizza delivery.”

  “I didn’t order any—”

  He looked bored as he held out the cardboard box. “Trish sent me.”

  “Oh, okay.” Guess she’d been serious before. I started to turn to go for my wallet, but he stopped me, putting the pizza box in my hands instead.

  “Already taken care of.”

  By the time I murmured thanks, he was halfway to the red sedan parked at the end of the driveway. I shut the door behind him with my hip and headed back to the living room to turn the television off before going outside to eat. Figured I might as well soak up some sun and have lunch at the same time. I had my cell phone in my pocket and I sorta itched to call Mom to tell her what I was doing. But I kinda didn’t think she’d take too well to the fact that on my first full day in L.A., Dad was working. A huge no-no that I planned on keeping my mouth shut about.

  Besides, Trish assured me it was only a one-day type of thing and that the next few months were wide open.

  I stopped at the counter, set the pizza down and opened the box, inhaling deeply. It smelled amazing. Pepperoni, mushrooms, and peppers. Someone knew my absolute favorite. I put a still steaming slice on a plate, grabbed a bottled water from the fridge, and headed outside to enjoy my private lunch for one.

  ***

  Dad was late.

  The clock on the microwave had read almost eight last time I’d wandered in to check, and that had to be at least fifteen minutes ago. I sat out back, figuring I would seem a little too eager if I waited in the living room. Upstairs looked like I didn’t care, but outside, I could hear him pull in and act surprised at the time when he appeared.

  I grabbed the next issue from the stack of magazines I’d brought down from my carryon and waited to hear the crunching sound of tires on the gravel stone of the driveway.

  By the time I heard a door slam, I’d fallen half-asleep in the lounge chair, the stack of magazines at my side sliding in all directions as I jostled myself awake.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Dad announced a few moments later.

  I blinked my eyes open.

  “It’s okay. What time is it?” I stifled a yawn.

  “Quarter after nine.” He walked towards me, pulling off his sunglasses and tucking them in his shirt collar. “Sorry, Chey. Look, I’ll drive. I know a great place to take you to for your first meal out in L.A.”

  “I’m ready to go.”

  “I’ll be five minutes.” He tossed me the keys to the Escalade and headed inside.

  I sat in the SUV, waiting while he changed and wondered what he thought would be suitable for my first real meal out in Los Angeles. I ran through some of the restaurants I knew about in my head, all of which sounded way too dressy for my jeans and pink tank top ensemble. I was just about to run inside and change when he opened the driver’s door.

  “Am I dressy enough?” I asked, closing up the mirror on the sunshade. I’d added a fresh layer of my favorite lip gloss since it had faded away since I’d first gotten ready hours ago.

  Dad laughed. “Totally. Trust me, this place is super casual.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

  “Sorry about taking longer than I thought,” he said as we left the house behind. “We ended up giving some interviews that were lengthier than expected.”

  “That’s fine. I soaked up some sun.”

  “Trish said she sent lunch?”

  “Pizza.”

  “Good.”

  I tried to follow where he was going, but I became seriously confused by the time we were a few blocks from home. I had a feeling my GPS was going to quickly become my new BFF.

  Soon, he made another turn, and according to a passing street sign, we were headed down Melrose, finally another name I recognized.

  “Got any idea where we’re headed?”

  “Can’t say I do,” I said, watching buildings and trees blur by as we passed.

  “You in the mood for a hot dog and fries, and maybe a celeb or two?”

  “Absolutely.”

  We parked in a small side lot beside the little white building that housed Pink’s. From where we were, I could see the bright white patio tables and red and white striped umbrellas. A few people sat out there eating, but it didn’t seem too busy for that time of night.

  All right, so it wasn’t exactly what I expected, but I figured he was doing his best to take me to all the L.A. hot spots. And from his spiel as we parked, Pink’s existed as a Hollywood legend itself, dating all the way back to the late 1930s.

  We quickly got out of the SUV and headed down the sidewalk towards Pink’s which Dad said surprisingly wasn’t too busy yet, since the line wasn’t halfway down the street.

  Dad pulled his wallet out as we reached the back of the line outside. I kept glancing around. It was busy even at that time of day. People walking by. More people joined up behind us, talking loudly to each other. Cars sped past. I kept trying to catch a glimpse of my first live celebrity—my father not included—but so far, I hadn’t seen a single one.

  Which left me only slightly disappointed. Did the entire celebrity population of Los Angeles all make a mass exodus the second I stepped off the plane?

  Soon, we made it through to almost the front of the line—only a couple were in front of us ordering at the counter.

  “Why don’t you go up ahead, find us a table, and I’ll take care of the ordering?”

  “You sure?” I asked, casting a look around us. So far, no one was paying us any attention, but still…

  “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll surprise you with the order. Go on. There’s a whole pile of photos around the back I’m sure you’d love to see. Maybe a familiar face or two in there.”

  I nodded, excusing myself by a couple of tourists ahead of us and turned down the hallway that lead towards the back. There were a few small white tables for two along the wall as I went. Through an open doorway was the room Dad had mentioned with the rows of framed photos on the wall.

  Famous faces stared back from every one, and I wondered if Dad had a picture on there somewhere; he must have since he’d said familiar faces. I headed to where it looked like some newer pictures had been hung and tried to spot him staring back at me. I must have lost track of time because the next thing I knew, Dad was beside me, a tray of amazing-smelling food in his hands.

  “Grab a table yet?” he asked, looking amused.

  “Uh…”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. I thought you might have gotten distracted so I snagged one on my way over,” he said as he turned and headed to the table he’d reserved for us.

  I followed him out of the small room and towards the back open area. One of the back tables with the umbrellas had a homemade-looking reserved sign leaning against the umbrella stand, a simple folded piece of paper with Reserved scribbled in black ink.

  “You weren’t in line long.” I sat down as he put the tray on the table and took down the reserved sign, folding it up and sticking it in his back pocket.

  He shrugged. “There wasn’t that many orders ahead of us.”

  He took a seat across from me.

  “Smells great.”

  “Some of the best food in the city. I’ve been coming here since I first came to L.A.”

  “Really?” I asked as I grabbed a napkin and spread it out in front of me on the table.

  Dad put my food in front of me, a hot dog, chili cheese fries, and a drink.

  “Oh, yeah. Back then, it was a chance for me to meet som
eone famous. Now, I come strictly for the food. And tonight, a chance to show off my beautiful daughter.”

  I couldn’t help myself from smiling as I ducked my head. “Do you come here often?”

  “Used to. Once a week, at least. Now, it’s a little less often.” He smiled, grabbing a napkin from the tray. “Place has quite a history,” he said as he took a look around.

  “I can see that.” I bit into my chili cheese dog. Heaven. I totally forgave him for being late. I took a few more bites in silence, just soaking in the atmosphere. It seemed quieter back here for some reason, even though we weren’t all that far from the street.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” I asked, grabbing a couple fries.

  “Are you?” Dad countered, or at least it seemed that way as he reached for his drink.

  “Not anymore.” I took another bite of my chili dog and looked at the scenery. A couple other people had joined us nearby, but they were too busy with their conversation to pay us any attention.

  “Why not?”

  Dad seemed very interested, all of a sudden. I so hoped he didn’t have plans to fix me up with someone. Talk about embarrassing, having your own father play matchmaker.

  I shrugged. “He was too busy.”

  “With?”

  “Other girls.”

  “Sorry, kiddo.”

  “S’okay. I’d rather be single, anyways,” I said, trying to sound like I meant it.

  Besides, what good would a boyfriend be right now when I was spending the summer out here? I totally didn’t buy into that long-distance stuff, either. I mean, if that worked, my parents should have still been together, and they obviously weren’t. So see, I had a case study of how disastrous a long-distance relationship could be.

  “What about you? Anyone new since the Botox beauty?”

  Dad started coughing like he was choking on his French fries, and I became tempted to get up and slap him on the back.

  “I, uh…” he coughed again, reaching for another napkin from the tray. “Botox beauty?” he finally managed.

  “Didn’t you ever notice her face never really moved? At least, her lips. She was totally expressionless half the time.”

  “Now that you mention it…” he trailed off, taking a healthy gulp of his soda, but I could see the grin he was trying hard to hide.

  “I didn’t really like her.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “I like her, sometimes.”

  He gave me one of those ‘that’s not what I meant’ looks. “She dating anyone?”

  “Doubt it. She lives and breathes business.” I paused to stare at a passing car leaving the parking lot. If I squinted, it could have been one of the Hemsworth brothers. On closer inspection as the car got closer, totally not, unless they were currently sporting a blue-tipped windblown Mohawk.

  So much for my celeb spotting.

  I reached for another French fry.

  “Was she okay with you coming here?”

  Hmm. Go with the truth, or smooth things over? “I think she was surprised by your offer.”

  We both had been. Heck, I still carried the email he sent around in my pocket, just to be sure I hadn’t dreamt the whole thing.

  He wasn’t the worst father in the world, but the invite to spend the summer with him had come completely out of nowhere, that’s all.

  We ate in silence, him devouring two hot dogs and half a basket of fries while I added more ketchup to the side of my basket and dunked a few fries cautiously.

  “Thanks,” I said finally, my fingers toying with the edge of the napkin nervously, like they were trying to create origami.

  Dad looked surprised as he finished off his second hot dog. “For what?”

  “Dinner. And well, everything.”

  Inviting me out here, and most importantly not backing out of it…

  “I want this summer to be great for you, Chey.”

  “It will be,” I said with a hopeful smile. It had to be.

  3

  “An invite?” I repeated, glancing at the piece of paper on the counter that Dad had come down with that morning. I barely knew a handful of people on the west coast, let alone Los Angeles, so how could I get invited anywhere? Unless Dad had gotten involved somehow.

  He shut the fridge door with his hip. So that’s where I got that habit from.

  “Thought you could use a chance to hang out with people your own age. It’s tonight, by the way.”

  “Tonight?”

  Nothing like a little last-minute notice.

  I leaned on the kitchen counter, swirling my spoon around the last of my strawberry yogurt in the bottom of the container as I looked at the supposed invitation again. I’d barely had a chance to hang out with anyone, spending more time watching Netflix by the pool on my tablet than with anyone three-dimensional since I’d gotten here.

  “Hot date tonight?”

  He almost choked on his orange juice. “What?”

  “You obviously want me out of the house for some reason, so logical thought is you’ve got a hot date tonight.”

  “It’s not a hot date, it’s a…”

  Ah ha! I knew I wasn’t wrong. There was a woman involved. Mom had the same pattern when she had a date. I either ended up staying the night at a friend’s house or hanging out with my aunt.

  “If you’re going to say one night stand, that’s way too much info for me.”

  He grinned. “Hardly.”

  I so didn’t need the image of walking in on Dad and some woman kissing on the couch—or even worse.

  I took the so-called invite. Obviously, it had been emailed over given the unfamiliar email address at the top of the page, making me wonder if Trish actually had a hand this. Maybe she wanted to make sure I had a good vacation, which had to include making a friend or two. I studied the page, which seemed pretty sparse. Time, address, and a gate code.

  No names.

  Nothing.

  “Whose party is it?” Maybe I was too naïve and that’s how they handled parties out here lately. Not like anyone could text me an invite, since, well, other than Dad and Trish, who had my number?

  “A friend of mine’s daughter. Adriana. She’s around your age, maybe a little older. Haven’t seen her in a while.”

  Ah. My dad was trying to socialize me. Was this his version of a Daddy and Me play date without the daddy portion? He’d probably already decided he didn’t want to spend an entire summer with me on his hands. Okay, so I have a wee bit of an overactive imagination. Creativity runs in the family. Dad had written a couple screenplays over the years.

  “You might enjoy a night out.”

  With people I don’t know.

  I reached for my cell phone I’d left on the other side of the counter and tapped the address in. Bellagio Drive? The only Bellagio I’d heard of before was the hotel in Vegas.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Think about it. But I think you’d have a good time. Might be nice to for you to meet some people. Have someone to hang out with if I’m busy.” He must have noticed the skeptical look still on my face. “It’s up to you if you want to go or not. I just thought I’d give you the option.”

  Right.

  Because staying at home did not mean I was embracing my glam new life—well, the one I was borrowing this summer. Because even though Dad was Dad, my dad, this still didn’t quite feel like it all belonged to me.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said when I noticed he was watching me pretty intently.

  He gave me a quick hug, tapped the piece of paper on the counter one last time before he headed off to play basketball, and I stared at the invite, already crinkled from how tightly I gripped the corner.

  Somehow, I found myself sitting outside at the oversized patio table with the printed directions from Google and a tall glass of orange juice.

  I was in charge of my own happiness—Mom’s favorite saying. I looked at the map and invite again before I reached for my cell phone.

 
; “Who are you calling?”

  I jumped at the sound of Trish’s voice.

  “You, actually.” I turned to see her coming out the patio doors, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head.

  She smiled. “Looks like I saved you a call. What can I do for you?”