by Maren Smith
Ellen met us at the elevator and took us to a small room where she started going over the logistics of the evening. I listened with half an ear, far more interested in watching Savannah. God she was gorgeous and totally unaware of exactly how fantastic she was.
“So, any questions?”
“Not that I can think of,” Savannah said and then turned to me. “Daddy… um, I mean, Jack… do you have any questions?”
Her face had heated and yet I was proud to see no real shame at her slip appear in her eyes.
“No, babygirl, I think I’ve got it. This is your show. I’m just your eye candy,” I said with a grin.
“And such yummy candy,” Ellen said. “Girl, you are one very lucky lady,” she added, causing Savannah’s blush to deepen. Clapping her hands and looking at the clock, she said, “Okay, then, it’s showtime. Here we go!”
Before Savannah could blink, Ellen had the door open and was ushering us through. I’d seen the crowds that afternoon but was still amazed at the fact that they’d only grown in the hours since. The ballroom where I’d found Savannah had expanded with the accordion walls pushed back on both sides. Rows of chairs stretched across the expanse, every single one of them either already filled or had purses, tote bags, sweaters or something on the seats as if saving a spot for the expected occupant as more people were still streaming through the doors.
When Savannah hesitated, her eyes widening at the sight of the crowd, I gave her hand a squeeze. “Just breathe,” I said softly.
She glanced up and nodded. “I never… I couldn’t… thank you, Jack, for being here with me.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, stepping forward as Ellen turned back to gesture for us to catch up. “You’re going to be just fine.”
“From your lips to God’s ears,” she muttered though managed to take another step and then another until we’d reached the chairs set up behind a long table that had piles of Savannah’s books strategically arranged across its surface. Several pens were on the table as well and two bottles of water assured we’d not die of dehydration before we were released.
“You’ll sit here and when it’s your turn, I’ll announce you and you’ll come up and give a speech and then—”
“Wait! You never said anything about a speech,” Savannah said, the edge of panic returning to her voice.
Ellen waved her hand as if brushing aside her concern. “Don’t consider it a speech… just think of it as having a conversation with a few fans.”
“A few?”
I almost chuckled at Savanah’s correction as I looked at the people still milling about. Knowing that Ellen was not helping Savannah to relax, I bent down and spoke softly.
“This isn’t a courtroom full of untrusting souls. It’s a room full of people who’ve fallen in love with you just as I have,” I said. “Granted, you don’t know them, but, babygirl, they know that you have introduced them to a world and to characters in that world that they want to consider as friends. Just relax and breathe and think about how much Candy loved your story… how much all those readers loved hearing you read this morning. Think about how much I love the author who wrote such a great story. You’ll be fine.”
She hesitated but then took a deep breath and nodded. “Promise?”
“I promise,” I said, pressing a rather chaste kiss to her cheek, but it was enough to make her lips curl into a soft smile.
“Okay, I’ll try.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ellen said a moment before some chime sounded and the staff at the doors began to close them, the late arrivals scurrying through just in time. I pulled out the chair for Savannah and then sat beside her, smiling when she slipped her hand into mine below the table as we both waited for the show to begin.
The coordinator of the event stood and spoke first, greeting everyone and thanking the fans for attending. A few other staff members were introduced and while I couldn’t tell you what any of them said, I could tell you that with each short speech, Savannah relaxed a bit more. When she laughed at a joke one told, I knew she’d be all right.
Savannah was but one of the authors featured and she leaned close to whisper how much she enjoyed those presented before her. “They are really amazing,” she said softly of two women who stood and approached the podium together. “They write under one pen name but are coauthors,” she explained when I looked at the screen to see a cover depicting a single name. When another author was introduced to enthusiastic applause and a few whistles, Savannah giggled. “She writes really steamy stuff.”
“Steamier than you?” I asked, not ready to believe such a thing was true.
“Way more,” Savannah insisted. “The things she writes make my toes curl and my panties… um, you know,” she said, her blush persuading me that perhaps she was telling the truth.
Picking up the pen in front of me, I circled the author’s name on the program card and scribbled a few words next to it.
“What are you doing?” Savannah asked.
“Making a note to remind myself to buy her book,” I said. “I need to check to make sure her books make appropriate reading for my little girl.”
“Jack!” she protested, but her smile told a different story.
The author was entertaining and yet I felt Savannah beginning to tense up. Leaning over, I said, “Just remember, you had them eating out of your hands with two little words”—pausing long enough for her to look up, a question in her eyes, I grinned—”bark burn.”
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes rolled, but she giggled. “You’re incorrigible, did you know that?”
“And you’re up,” I said as Ellen approached the podium, clapping as the previous author returned to her seat.
“It’s my immense pleasure to introduce you to a woman who is not only our Rising Star, but is a really fantastic person and a friend of mine. If you’ve read her book, Hanna’s Haven, you already love her, and if you haven’t, you’ll really be sorry for not taking the journey. Please welcome Ms. Kerrie Kenneth.”
Applause rolled through the room as I gave Savannah’s hand one last squeeze before standing and clapping my hands as she took a final deep breath and stood. I watched as she made her way to the podium, proud that while I knew she was still shaking a bit, it only served to make her more personable to the people who’d come to meet her. It took a few more moments before the room quieted and she began to speak.
“I’m so honored tonight and want you to know that I’m only up here because of people like each and every one of you. Without readers, authors would have no need to write. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting the voices in my head tell their stories, because, believe me, they are rather insistent little buggers.”
Laughter filled the room and Savannah laughed right along with them. By the time she thanked everyone again, I knew she had found the niche where she truly belonged. She’d always be a great lawyer, one who worked hard to defend those less fortunate than most, and she’d do her best to help them, but it was this side of her, the Kerrie side, that helped the wounded soul inside of her heal. It was weaving her stories with a combination of the truth and her desires for a better world, a happier outcome full of people who loved one another, that kept her from succumbing to the darkness that her childhood had surrounded her with. I couldn’t be prouder and when she stepped away from the podium, I was the first on my feet, clapping the hardest and smiling the broadest.
The rest of the event passed in a blur. I quickly learned that authors had stamina that a layman couldn’t even imagine. My fingers were cramped from scrawling my name across the page, and the muscles of my face ached from smiling for countless photos with fans asking for a selfie. It was Savannah who smiled this time, reaching to massage my hand.
“Just relax, you’re doing great,” she teased.
“It’s not even my book,” I said, shaking my head. “I knew you’d win them over, but good lord, they just keep coming.”
“And that is a blessing,” Ellen sai
d from behind us as she opened yet another box of books. When I groaned, she laughed. “Relax, this is the last one. Well, until tomorrow, that is.”
Savannah laughed and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure no one has ever been crippled permanently from autographing books.”
Flexing my fingers, I said, “Keep it up, little girl, and I’ll be working out any kinks on a certain author’s behind.”
“Jack!”
“You two are just too adorable,” Ellen said, slapping a stack of books down between us. “I absolutely cannot wait to read the next book in the series.”
“Series?” I said, looking from her to Savannah, to the people still lining up and then to the book in front of me.
“Welcome to my world,” Savannah said, pulling the top copy off the stack and opening it to the title page.
Sighing, I smiled. “Wouldn’t want to be in any other place,” I said sincerely.
Another half-hour found the last book signed and the last photo snapped.
“You’re free to go,” Ellen said, reaching down to give Savannah a hug. “You did so great! Now, go enjoy your night and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
“Not too early,” I said, standing and pulling Savannah up. “Savannah needs her rest.”
“Savannah needs dinner and a ride on the Ferris wheel,” Savannah corrected.
“Like I said, adorable. Go,” Ellen said with a laugh, shooing us away as she had that morning.
“Ready?” I asked, slipping my arm around Savannah’s waist.
“Absolutely, Daddy,” she said unabashedly, claiming me as hers without a moment’s pause.
“Have fun!” Ellen called out as we retraced our steps to the door closest to us.
“Believe me, we will,” I called back over my shoulder, loving it when Savannah slipped her arm around my waist and tucked her fingers into the back pocket of my jeans.
Chapter Nine
Savannah
We took an Uber to Freemont Street which was blocked from traffic, allowing tourists to casually stroll up and down its length of almost a mile without having to worry about cars. It was good to get outside and stretch my legs after sitting for so long. What was even better was that I was with Jack.
“Oh, we should do that!” I said, pointing above us where a couple were sliding along a wire high overhead.
“I’m afraid that thong you’re wearing would stop a few hearts when your dress flew up,” Jack said.
I giggled, having totally forgotten what I was wearing. Still, that didn’t keep me from teasing. “What happened to the voyeur who pressed me up against that tree?” I asked.
“That voyeur is the only one allowed to see what is under your clothing,” Jack said. “Though perhaps he might change his mind if he feels his girl needs a reminder to behave.” Dropping his hand, he patted my ass.
“Point received,” I said quickly. “Besides, I’d much rather eat than zip-line.”
Jack chuckled. “Sure you would, but good try. Come on, it should be right up on the next block.”
When next we stopped it was for me to stare at the sign above the door. “The Heart Attack Grill?” I asked, looking from the sign and the ones in the windows across the front to Jack. “Seriously, you want to eat where it clearly states the place is bad for your health?”
“Sure,” Jack said, pulling me forward. “You only live once.”
“According to that sign, you’ll be lucky to live long enough to pay the check,” I said, pointing to another sign that explained that only cash was accepted because one might die before the check arrived.
“What happened to that girl who was brave enough to have wild monkey sex beneath a tree?”
“Jack!” I hissed, my face heating. “Fine, but just so you know, my CPR skills are pretty rusty, so you better not have a heart attack,” I said, shaking my head but smiling as he opened the door and we stepped inside. Pretty sure the signs were simply a tourist draw, I forgot about the possibility of impending death and got into the spirit of things. Which I soon discovered included slipping into an actual hospital gown before we even were allowed into the actual restaurant proper.
The menu proved to be far more credible than the signs, though even it had choices of meals that included more calories in a single sitting than I consumed in an entire week.
“Did you see that if you don’t finish your meal, you get a spanking?” Jack said, nodding to a posted sign that showed a caricature of a very buxom waitress dressed in a far too sexy nurse’s uniform, wielding a huge paddle ready to smack it against the backside of a customer who, I gathered, had left a bite of his hamburger uneaten.
“No way,” I said, looking around, wondering exactly how close to the truth all these signs came.
When the waitress asked for our order, I said, “We’re going to split a burger.”
“Sorry, sharing isn’t allowed,” the waitress said. “We wouldn’t want to spread germs around, now would we?”
Not exactly sure if she was kidding or not, I ordered the smallest burger they offered. “Oh, and no fries,” I added only to hear Jack chuckle again adding his order of a double cheeseburger with an order of both fries and onion rings.
Once she’d left, Jack said, “You love fries. You ate yours and quite a few of mine for lunch, and on a rather red rear as I recall.”
“Ha ha ha,” I said, watching as another nurse walked past our table rolling what looked like an authentic IV pole complete with a bag and tubing beside her. “Did you see that?” I asked, swiveling my head back to Jack.
“I did,” Jack said. “Want me to order a bag for you?”
“No, thanks,” I said, lifting my glass of water. “I’m fine.”
Despite myself, I was having a blast. I watched as customers served themselves wine by opening the valve of their tubing to the IV bags hanging over their shoulders. I was relieved when our food arrived and my hamburger was not all that much larger than ones I’d eaten before, though I did giggle when Jack’s eyes widened at the size of the mound of onion rings and the separate basket of fries that were set before him.
“You’ll help me eat these, right?” he asked, nudging the basket toward me when the nurse smiled and walked away.
“What? And miss a chance for a little pay-back?” I said, shaking my head and pushing the basket back in his direction. “Not on your life, mister.”
He growled and I giggled, taking the first bite of my hamburger. “This is pretty good,” I admitted.
“I bet it would be even better with an onion ring or two on top.”
“You’re just too cute,” I said with a grin. When I could declare that I, for one, was safely out of the “spanking zone,” I pushed back my chair. “I’ll be right back.” Jack nodded, his mouth full and I left to find the ladies’ room. I was actually a little shocked when I returned to the table. “You’ve got to go to the bathroom,” I said, sliding back into my chair.
“Are you advising me to throw up to make room for the fries you won’t help me finish?” he asked.
“No…” I paused and then added, “that actually never even crossed my mind,” I said. “I want to know if the décor in the men’s room is anywhere near as risqué as that in the ladies’ room.”
“It’ll cost you,” Jack said, pushing the basket back in my direction.
Laughing, I took pity on him and plucked a couple of fries from the still impressive mound. “You’re a wuss, Mr. Carey.”
“And you’re flirting with a spanking, Miss Gordon,” he returned with a grin, bending to buzz my cheek before going to fulfill his part of the bargain. When he returned, it was to inform me that the urinals had photos of past presidents on them.
“Seriously? That’s pretty funny,” I admitted though I knew I should most likely be a little outraged but just didn’t have it in me. “Oh, by the way, your nurse is waiting for you,” I said, giving a nod to our server who approached, smacking the paddle she’d
obtained against her thigh.
Jack’s look was priceless as he looked to see the table had been cleared. “It appears there might be a time limit,” I said, chancing the little fib would go undetected. When his eyes narrowed, I shrugged innocently. “Hey, you’re the one who ordered, and I did try to help you out.”
“You ate a total of what, two fries?” he said, his growl having my nipples furl but didn’t cause me to back down.
“You do want to set a good example for me, right, Daddy?” I asked sweetly, batting my eyelashes. “After all, when I try to get out of a spanking, you never let me off.”
“This is so going to cost you,” he said, but stood up again, his grin belying his threat.
“It will be so worth every swat,” I assured him, standing to join him on his walk of shame to the raised stage in the middle of the restaurant. I hooted with the best of them as he bent over and the nurse’s arm came down to smack her paddle against his butt.
“Happy?” he asked a few minutes later after we’d paid the bill and I passed over the cash for not only a photo of my daddy getting spanked, but a t-shirt that would commemorate the event.
“Very,” I assured him and then added, “though when I get spanked, it’s always on the bare.”
“Ha ha ha,” he said, mimicking my mock laughter from before.
I was still giggling as another Uber driver took us to the High Roller.
“Whoa, it really is tall,” I said, tilting my head back to stare way up. “And huge.”
“Still want to ride?” he asked, returning from the window where he’d just bought the tickets.
“Oh, absolutely,” I said. “I can tick riding the world’s tallest Ferris wheel off my bucket list.”
“Babygirl, you are far too young to have a bucket list,” he said, leading me into the building.
The line went quickly, the time informative with all the facts listed about Vegas along the route. Once we reached the spheres, I was a bit surprised when the doors closed behind us as we were the only two in an area large enough for several more people. Then again, when Jack led me to one of the windows, I forgot about everything other than the view.