“As long as you don't expect me to get up and sing, it's a deal,” he bargained.
Alexa cocked her head to one side, giving a look he could only describe as calculating. Then she nodded. “Okay, you don't have to get up and sing, but you'll have to...” she paused, as if thinking of an appropriate bargaining point.
“I'll think of something suitable, Alexa. I promise.” Max pulled the cell phone from his inner jacket pocket, flipped it open and called a taxi. “Can you wait five minutes, young lady?"
Alexa looked down at the floor in pretense of being demure. “Of course, Daddy. I'll just go tell Nikki we're leaving.” She shed her charade, winked at him, then ran upstairs
Max laughed to himself. His daughter was an original. There was no doubt about it. In many ways, she reminded him of Solange. His wife had been spontaneity personified, always ready to party. He didn't want to run the risk of losing his daughter. She was at a difficult age and needed his attention.
Twenty-six
Friday afternoon
By the time Max and Alexa entered the Hard Rock Café, the luncheon crowd had started thinning out. He looked around at the rock ‘n’ roll paraphernalia. Guitars, shirts, autographs of everyone from the Beetles to The Grateful Dead were in abundance, in addition to the ubiquitous tee-shirts emblazoned with Hard Rock Café, New York City. Bouncers uniformly clad in red T-shirts, having little to do, hung about looking official.
Max and Alexa followed the waiter to a quiet booth—at least it was quiet for now. After taking a seat across from his daughter, he glanced around to see if anyone was going to jump up and start singing. His daughter would be disappointed, if no one did.
She beamed at him, patting his hand, before speaking. “I wish Mario were here. He's the one who told me about it."
He cleared his throat, hating to start off with a list of rules for the summer. But since Alexa had mentioned Mario first, he thought he might as well. “About Mario. I'm not forbidding you to see him, but..."
“Daddy, you have to let me see him.” Alexa interrupted, her face growing pink with emotion.
“All I was going to say is we have to have some rules. Mario is too old for you."
“You were older than my mother, and you're twelve years older than Nikki. I don't see what difference it makes."
“It makes a lot of difference where you are only fourteen and Mario is already eighteen. Your maman was nineteen when we fell in love. I know from experience what happens when you marry too young."
Alexa fixed him with a cold stare. “Are you saying you're sorry you married my mother? Didn't you keep loving each other?"
Max paused before carefully replying. “I always loved your mother, but we changed and grew apart. We were having—uh, some difficulties before she died. We never had time to resolve them.” No, no time at all.
“It's different with Mario and me,” Alexa protested.
“Young people always think they'll be different. I look at you and Mario, and I see myself and your maman. Only it is worse because there is even a greater difference in your ages."
“But, Daddy, I'm crazy about him."
“You're still a child,” he said firmly. “No matter how grown up you feel."
Alexa glared at him, her green eyes flashing, as she bit back a hasty reply.
“All I wanted to say today is that we must have some ground rules."
“Fine. Whatever."
Max swallowed his anger, trying to keep his cool. His daughter was every bit as obstinate as he and Solange had been, defying and arguing every point he made.
Attempting to change the subject to a topic less volatile, Max picked up a menu. “What do you want to eat?"
She chewed her lip, then flashed him a grin. “Hamburger with everything, French Fries, and a chocolate milk shake,” she announced with a definite nod of her head. “How about you? Their fries are the best, Daddy."
The waiter appeared and took their orders, Max's preference not as heavy as his daughter's. “Grilled chicken, house salad, fries and coffee.” Try as he could, he couldn't do without the fries. They were his favorite.
“French fries and coffee? Gross, Dad, really gross."
Max permitted himself a patently fake smile, aiming it at his only child. Alexa returned one that was equally phony, all in good humor, of course.
After the waiter left, Max wondered how to bring up the subject of Nikki
“There's something else."
Alexa rolled her eyes in mock horror. “What now?"
“I've been investigating schools and housekeepers for the fall."
“Why? Nikki—"
Max, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Nikki and I ... I don't think she's happy living in the townhouse. She's used to her privacy."
Alexa tried to stand, but the edge of the table stopped her. “But I thought you and Nik would—"
“Enough. Remember where you are."
“I know you love her. You have to stay together."
Max looked around. People were turning to stare at them. “There's no point in discussing this."
His daughter huffed, blowing the curls off her forehead. “You're the one who brought it up, Daddy. Not me."
“My mistake. The subject is closed."
“You've ruined my special time with you. You've ruined my whole day, maybe even my whole life. I hate you.” She folded her arms across her chest and refused to meet his eye.
Stymied, he shook his head. Who was the baffling creature on the other side of the table? Had aliens abducted his little girl? Every time he opened his mouth, he only made things worse. “Alexa, be reasonable,” he implored, trying once more to restore the early amiability.
His daughter responded with a sullen glare, then opened her mouth, but the waiter's approach with their lunches, interrupted the beginning of another tirade.
She glanced down at the grilled hamburger and the crisp, browned-to-perfection fries. She swallowed. He watched her struggle to maintain her fit of pique. It was obvious his daughter was hungry, and the food had been prepared to her standards.
He looked at his own. The fragrance of mesquite-grilled chicken teased his nostrils, making his mouth water. Frankly, he was famished. Picking up a fork and knife, he carved a bite of chicken. He popped the tender bite into his mouth and chewed. “Mmm.” He carved another bite. “You should eat.” He motioned toward her lunch. “Mine is delicious."
Alexa looked up, twisting her mouth, admitted, “I guess it would be a shame to waste good food like this. I mean when so many people have to go hungry and all.” Then she grinned sheepishly, picked up her hamburger with both hands and bit into the juicy sandwich.
“Mmm, this is so fab, Daddy. It's really great to be home from school. Where will I go to school next year? And how long do you think Mrs. Prentice will stay with us?
Max laughed. “Please, one question at a time. I've found two schools. I'll take you to meet the headmistresses next week. As for Nikki's mother, she may stay as long as she wishes. We have plenty of room."
She rolled her eyes at him. “I know we have plenty of room, but don't you think Nikki seemed a little tense this afternoon."
“Well, it's true they have difficulties, if they're around each other too long."
“Yeah, like five minutes,” Alexa blurted, before wolfing another big bite of hamburger.
Difficult as it was for Max to keep a straight face at his daughter's bluntness, he had to admit she was extremely accurate in her assessment of relations between Nikki and her mother. “We shall let Nikki handle her mother. It's not for us to judge how well they do or do not get along."
Alexa helped herself to a long fry. Max watched his daughter's appetite with amusement. She ate heartily, no signs of the eating disorders which often plagued the agency models. “I don't know if you'd be interested, but I have tickets for a play tonight,” he said. “Unless you have other plans?"
“A play? I'd rather go to a concert. ‘NSYNC's new tour is in
town. Can't we go to that instead? I would die happy, if I could see them just once. They're so hot."
“Really?” What's happening to my little girl? he asked himself. She was growing up right in front of his eyes. Soon, there would be no traces left of his child. She would be a woman. Mon Dieu, but he couldn't bear thinking about it, not now.
Max reached into his front pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Let me make a call. We'll see about this ‘NSYNC thing.” He quickly tapped in the number for Ramona, his assistant, who answered promptly.
“Ramona. Max. It appears theater tickets aren't what my daughter had in mind."
Ramona chuckled. “She'd probably rather see “NSYNC."
“Yes, that's right ... How did you guess?"
“My daughter Cyndi started whining for tickets two weeks before they went on sale. She stood in line for hours."
“Oh, I see. You have them already. Any chance of procuring a couple for tonight's show?"
“Sorry, but that show's been sold out since the first day."
“Well, do your best anyway. Call in some favors, if you have to."
“Okay, but it's not going to do much good."
“Thank you. I'll be very high on my daughter's list, if you can come up with a couple."
There was silence on Ramona's end of the line. “Don't you need at least three? I mean surely she would like to take a friend. Or better yet, four?"
“Three, if you can, otherwise, I'll take whatever you can come up with."
Ramona snickered. “That's me, boss man. The miracle worker. No job too big. By the way, Max, it is going to take a miracle."
Max gave Alexa an uneasy glance. “All right. I'll hear from you later? Just beep me."
“One way or another."
His daughter's eyes widened in anticipation. She took a sip of her milkshake, still questioning him with her eyes.
“Ramona's working on it. Nothing's certain yet."
“I'll simply die, if she does.” She pushed her plate away. “I can't eat another bite. I'm too excited."
Once again, the thought he might not survive the next five years crossed his mind. Nikki had known exactly what she was talking about when she'd warned him. He didn't remember putting his parents through such ordeals. Now, his daughter sat across from him, grinning and squirming in anticipation over seeing a band of hot guys perform.
Max's appetite deserted him. He caught the waiter's attention and motioned for the check. After signing it, he turned to his daughter. “Ready? Let's go see how Nikki and her mother are doing,” he said, then winked.
Alexa smiled widely. “Daddy, you are so bad. Nikki should punish you,” she teased.
Hm. Kinky, he thought. Instead, he gave Alexa what he hoped was a stern, no-nonsense father expression.
Together they left the restaurant, at truce for the present. How long it would last, he had no idea. But if today was any indication ... not very long.
Twenty-seven
Friday afternoon
Nikki heaved a sigh of relief. Her mother had decided to take a short nap. With any luck, she would stay asleep long enough for Nikki to calm down. She might even get some work done. She'd already organized her journals. Geoff McHugh had called right after Max and Alexa left for lunch to ask if he could drop by. He sounded excited ... and he wanted to see what progress she'd made on the first chapter.
Since her autobiography started with the night she first met Max, she'd been very painstaking in her phrasing. What she feared most was giving away her true feelings for Max—that and looking like a damn fool for the whole world to see. More than anything, she wanted to be able to look him in the face after it was published. As pathetic as it sounded, she wanted him to be proud of her.
The doorbell rang, ending her brief moment of freedom. She took a deep breath and walked to the front door. Visible through the glass, Geoff McHugh stood on the front stoop, gazing up at the darkening summer sky dressed in business casual, consisting of a light blue shirt that intensified the blue of his eyes and khaki slacks, sharply creased. His brown loafers were shined to perfection, while his tan leather briefcase was slightly scuffed, but substantial. A superhero tie topped off his ensemble.
She opened the door and cast a worried look at the darkening sky. “Looks like it's going to storm,” she said. “You'd better come in."
“I hope you don't mind my being so casual. I'd thought we'd work better, if we weren't so formal.” Geoff ran a hand through his crisp strawberry blond hair.
He appeared nervous, and Nikki wondered why. He wasn't about to spill his guts in a book for the whole world to read. “Somehow, I doubt that formality is one of your strong suits, or is it?” she asked, gesturing at his superhero tie. She motioned for him to follow her to the sunroom.
He laughed. “Like my tie, do you? Now, we don't have to be adversaries. We both have something to gain from your book."
She turned and grinned. “And what do you have to gain?"
A smile spread across his face. “A lot. For one, it'll be the first in an entertainment line I want to launch. If your book does well, then there'll be more to follow. I'll gain prestige."
“You certainly expect a lot from one has-been model,” she said with a laugh. “I hope you're not disappointed."
“You can't fool me. You're bright. There's more to you than your beautiful face."
Nikki processed the compliment. “Thank you, I should hope so."
“See here, once your book is published, you'll have established yourself as an author. A whole new career will open for you."
His words sent a wave of relief through her. He'd said exactly what she wanted to hear, but the thought of it scared her too. Success or failure, it was in her hands ... and Geoff McHugh's.
“I want to see what you've done so far. I don't care how rough it is. The journal you sent me was clear and concise.” He sat down on a blue and white ticking-striped ottoman and removed the journal from his brief case. “In this one journal, I see you have a sharp sense of humor. Of course, I already knew that from our first meeting,” he said with an engaging grin.
Her face grew warm. “I suppose I was a little nervous."
“Well, we both had a surprise then, didn't we?"
“Meaning?"
“Meaning, I expected to meet—uh, I don't suppose there's anyway to say this without being offensive, but I didn't expect you to be so intelligent. I figured someone, who stood around all day looking beautiful, wouldn't have an original thought in her head. But I was wrong; I'm glad to say. I'm looking forward to working with you on this project."
Nikki leaned back against the desk chair, crossing her arms in front of her body, she asked, “Are you aware of your tendency to make speeches?"
A guilty little smile tugged at his mouth. “I think it's been mentioned before. Guess it's a good thing you're around to remind me not to do it quite so often."
“I suppose I could take on that responsibility, in addition to everything else I have to do,” she said, making a sweeping motion with her arm, encompassing the entire room.
“I'm sure you'll take it very seriously."
“I will.” At this point, she couldn't restrain her laughter. “You weren't anything like I expected, either. I don't know exactly what I expected, but it wasn't someone like you."
Geoff's eyes twinkled. “I think I've just been damned by faint praise."
“I wouldn't be at all surprised."
~ * ~
Alexa in tow, Max bounded up the steps to the townhouse, opened the door and stopped in the hall, leaving his keys on the Empire center table. He skimmed through the mail. Nothing of interest.
“I'm going up to my room to call Bitsy, okay Dad?” Alexa asked.
“Sure.” Max was distracted by an unusual sound ... Nikki's laughter. It surprised him. She'd been working much too hard on her book. He hurried to the sunroom, anxious to discover the cause of her merriment ... and share it, if possible.
As he walk
ed through the kitchen, another sound puzzled him—the rumble of male laughter. Incensed, he wondered who in the hell was here in his house ... with Nikki?
He stood in the doorway of the sunroom. Neither of them noticed his arrival. They were too busy ... laughing. Nikki's face was slightly flushed, as she attempted to make some point or other with the young man.
“Hmph,” he cleared his throat, not wanting to spy any longer.
Nikki looked up first. “Max, I wasn't expecting you until later. Max, this is my editor, Geoff McHugh. Geoff, Max Devereaux, my—uh...” She waited a beat before adding, “...ex-employer."
Max nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak. His throat was too dry. He extended his hand to Nikki's editor, who stood up and returned the greeting.
“It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Nikki has told me about the night you met. It was certainly a fortuitous meeting, wouldn't you say?” The handshake became a contest, as each man tried to impress the other with his strong grip.
“Of course, it was.” He looked from Nikki to her editor back at her again. Their laughing camaraderie pissed him off. Dammit. Why couldn't she be that relaxed with him?
“It seems rather remarkable that you should come out of a theater and find a future supermodel on the street, right there in front of you. Have you been back to see if there are any more undiscovered supermodels waiting for you?"
Already tired of McHugh's impertinent questions, Max asked one of his own, “Are you a reporter or an editor?"
McHugh chuckled. “I know. I know. Actually, I did entertain the idea of journalism at one time, but I regained my sanity and changed majors."
Nikki giggled. Max turned in her direction and shot her what he hoped was a pointed look.
McHugh turned to Nikki. “You've made a good start. If you work on the additions and revisions I suggested, your opening will be much stronger.” He picked up his briefcase. “It's been a pleasure meeting you, sir,” he said to Max.
See You In My Dreams Page 25