Vintage Volume One

by Suzanne, Lisa

  We were more alike than I cared to admit, but I saw it every time we were together.

  “Leave your phone,” he said quietly. I pulled it out of my purse and followed his directions. He set his phone next to mine.

  My dad never—and I mean never—went anywhere without his phone.

  George ushered us in, and my dad and I settled into a table in a quiet back corner. My dad took the seat beside me rather than across from me.

  He ordered a Newcastle, his beer of choice, and I started with a glass of red wine.

  Our waitress eyed my dad with unconcealed lust, and I almost threw up on the table.

  She stepped away to get our drinks, and my dad started talking. His voice was low and he moved in toward me to ensure I was the only one who could hear the conversation.

  “We had to leave our phones in case either of them are bugged. Mine was swept last night, but call it paranoia. I don’t trust anyone anymore.”

  My heart rate sped up as I considered the implications of his words. “What’s going on?”

  “Look, Damien’s fine. He’s not coming back. He told me about the letter he left you. I’m sorry he left that way. I’m sorry he broke your heart.”

  “Why are you apologizing?”

  “Part of it’s my fault for introducing him to them.”

  “To who?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  The waitress dropped off our drinks, and my dad stopped talking. “You two ready to order?” she asked. We both shook our heads. Neither of us had cracked open our menus, and I had a feeling this was going to be a long meal. “I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”

  I waited until she was out of earshot to speak. “I’ve got time, Dad.”

  “I know, but I don’t. Not much.”

  “I’m confused. Why did you take me here to tell me these things?”

  “I can’t talk at home. I never know who might be listening.”

  “Your wife included?”

  “Anybody. There is only one person I trust in this world after everything I’ve been through.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m looking at her.”

  I felt unfamiliar tears prick my eyes. I’d spent so much of my life resenting the spotlight placed on me because of my dad that I never really considered things from his perspective. It couldn’t be easy being the man everyone wanted a piece of. I placed my hand over my dad’s. “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too, CC. Can I give you the short version?”

  I nodded.

  “Damien got caught up in some debts with Randy.”

  Randy.

  His name at our table was like dropping a bomb on a quiet town when the residents were sleeping.

  “I paid them off, but it wasn’t enough. Damien needed protection, and I needed him away from you. I had to take care of you, CC. I need you to understand that.”

  “He left because of you?”

  He sighed heavily. “In part, yes. D met Randy at my house a few years ago. He prospered at first, so his bets increased. And then he started losing. He was fine for a while, but when he kept betting big to win back the losses, he got into a hole he couldn’t get out of.”

  “This was all gambling debts?”

  “Sports. Mostly football, but D would bet on anything. He lost a bundle on fucking bowling one time.”

  My eyes were wide. I was shocked that I’d lived with a man who essentially lived a double life I knew nothing about.

  “Why would Randy give a fuck about Damien if you paid off his debts?”

  “Randy holds grudges. Against me, specifically.” He paused and took a breath, as if drawing in strength to say what he was going to say next. “And he knew that he’d hurt me most by hurting you. I’m so sorry, CC. I’m sorry that I took D away from you.”

  His voice was earnest. I could hear the sincerity. I could hear the grief he’d held back.

  “Where is Damien now?”

  “I helped him start over.” My dad’s eyes darted around us, and his voice lowered more. “He’s in Connecticut. He’s doing well, CC. He’s not dating anyone. He’s working for a local newspaper, picking up freelance photography work.”

  “And I’m not safe anymore? That’s why you want me to come with you?”

  “Randy’s a twisted motherfucker. He made some threats, and I’d just feel better having you close.”

  “Why is he threatening you?”

  “It’s complicated, but the moral of the story is that former porn stars prefer rock stars to bookies.”

  “Jadyn?”

  He nodded, and then he grinned. He looked young when he grinned. Boyish. I could see why women loved him, even though he was my dad. He was charming, but more than that, he was talented. And he was richer than God.

  “Can I be honest with you?” I took a sip of my red wine.

  The waitress came back over. “Ready to order yet?”

  “We’ll both take the New York Strip medium with a baked potato,” he said to her. “That okay?” he asked me.

  I shrugged. It was fine if I wanted to eat the same damn thing from the same damn restaurant two damn nights in a row.

  I wasn’t hungry after our conversation, anyway.

  She strutted away, and our conversation resumed.

  “You were going to be honest with me,” my dad reminded me.

  “I’ve blamed myself this entire time. I thought something was wrong with me. First Katie died, then Damien left. I’ve been scared to get close to somebody.”

  “It’s not you. Life happens. You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I’ve met someone. Someone I really like.”

  “When can I meet him?”

  I laughed. That was my dad. I could sit there all night and talk up Parker. He wouldn’t like him until he met him for himself.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Why? You embarrassed of your old man?”

  “Hardly. He’s a musician.”

  “Ah.” He nodded in understanding. “And you’re afraid of what that might mean?”

  I nodded. “I’ve been terrified this whole time that he only wants to be with me because of you.”

  It was hard to admit that to my dad, but given the honesty of our night together, he deserved the truth. He deserved to know that I didn’t blame him for what happened with Damien. I would need some time to process everything my dad had confessed to me that night, but the only person I blamed was Damien. I was suddenly furious with him that our entire relationship had been a lie. That’s how it felt, anyway.

  “Oh, CC. I wish I would have spent more time when you were growing up telling you what a precious star you are. You have never given yourself the credit you deserve. You’re a beautiful woman. You care too much. You’re kind and selfless. You deserve someone who will treat you the way you deserve. And that’s why I need to meet this kid. What’s his name?” My dad’s eyes moved to something on the other side of the restaurant. He was quietly scanning during our conversation, probably checking to see if anyone around us could possibly be listening.

  “Parker.”

  His eyes moved smoothly back to mine, but they were unreadable. “What’s the name of his band?”

  “It’s called Flashing Light. They just moved to LA from Chicago.”

  My dad was quiet for a minute, as if contemplating that information. Our food arrived, interrupting our moment. While we ate, I filled my dad in on the latest events of my life.

  I’d already told him about the feeling of being followed home, of the strange items misplaced in my condo, of the fire at Vintage. We reviewed each occurrence, and he listened quietly as I spoke, as if he was taking it all in and committing it to memory while calculating the possibilities in his mind.

  “Could it all be Randy?” I asked suddenly.

  “You’re going to be opposed to this, but I’m going to get George to put someone on you.” He hadn’t respond to my question, yet he answered it anyway.

  “Lik
e to watch me?”

  “More like to protect you. Just until we leave.”

  “You’re right. I’m opposed to that idea.”

  “Too damn bad.”

  I sighed. Part of me wished I hadn’t told him, but the other part of me felt a little relieved that I’d have someone with me.

  “When do we leave?”

  “A week from tomorrow. Have you talked to the people at Vintage?”

  I nodded. “I did it tonight.”

  Our waitress brought our bill over, and my dad paid with a wad of cash. “Ready?”

  I nodded, and just like that, our meal was over.

  I had the answers I’d been looking for, I supposed, but it didn’t really make me feel any better. If anything, it left me feeling like the relationship I’d shared with Damien had been a complete and utter lie.

  But it was in the past. It didn’t matter anymore. I’d moved on, and now I was trying to move forward. Parker was my present, and I wanted to focus on that.

  But I was going away for the next month. We’d already been away from each other for six weeks when he’d gone on tour. Then we were essentially apart from each other while he worked on his album for another month.

  And now we’d be apart again.

  If we were ever going to grow closer, to get past this “getting to know you” stage, we needed to actually find time to spend together.

  When we got back in the Tahoe and started on the road back toward the store, I checked my phone. My dad checked his, too. He sighed at the same time I did when we each saw the number of messages we’d missed.

  I had a few texts from Parker.

  The most important one had apologized for our fight and requested that I let him know when I was available to talk. He’d told me to name the time and place, and he’d be there.

  I tapped out a quick text. My place. One hour. I’m ready to talk.

  I set my phone down and looked over at my dad. His brows were knit together as he concentrated on whatever was on his phone. My dad had always been busy, but I missed those days before cell phones took everyone’s attention away from the present. Parker had a good point about eyes being glued to screens, and ever since he’d said it, I’d started to notice it more and more.

  I knew if I reached out, if I spoke, if I indicated for even a second that I wanted his attention, my dad would focus on me.

  But I didn’t want to have to do that.

  I wanted the attention without having to ask for it.

  So I stared out the window, lost in thought about everything my dad had revealed to me.

  It was odd how little I felt. Maybe the door to feelings had been closed where Damien was concerned.

  Maybe I was okay with that.

  I’d already mourned the loss of Damien.

  I wanted to feel angry, and a part of me felt betrayed. But it was hard to drum up feelings of anger over the pain that was a year old. If I’d never met Parker, surely I’d feel differently. But I had met Parker, and I was fine.

  It was because of Parker that I was fine.

  It was a strange feeling to rely so much on someone I knew so little about, but there it was.

  George pulled into the Vintage lot.

  “You okay?” My dad set his phone down long enough to say goodbye.

  I nodded. “I’ll be fine. Can we meet sometime in the next couple of days to go over the schedule?”

  “Of course. I’ll have Rebecca email you everything you need.”

  “Thanks, Pops.”

  He grinned. He hated it when I called him that—said it made him feel like an old man—so of course I did it even more often just to be spiteful.

  “George and I are going to follow you home just to make sure you’re safe. Okay?”

  I shrugged. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Nope.”

  “See you at my place, then.”

  I got out of the Tahoe and into my Porsche. As much as I would never admit it to my dad, I really did feel safer knowing he was behind me, making sure I got home safely. It felt good to know that the car following me was my dad’s instead of someone unknown.

  When I pulled into my usual spot, I saw Parker’s old Jimmy a few spaces over. He was sitting in the driver’s seat, his face lit by his cell phone.

  Oh God. This was awkward.

  I wasn’t ready to introduce my dad and Parker just yet, but it looked like I didn’t have much of a choice.

  I got out of my car. The Tahoe was double parked in the middle of the street. My dad opened his back door and stepped out to give me a hug.

  “Thanks for telling me the truth,” I said, clinging to him. His arms were always warm comfort. No matter what. While he sometimes did things that pissed me off, and while he’d kept the truth from me about Damien, he was my dad and I loved him.

  “Love you, CC,” he said. He got in the Tahoe and waited for me to approach my building, but instead I headed toward the Jimmy and knocked on Parker’s window.

  He jumped a little in surprise at my knock. When he saw me, he tossed his phone on the passenger seat and smiled.

  He opened his door. “Hey, Jimi.” He stepped out and pulled me into his arms, planting a kiss on my lips. Clearly he hadn’t noticed the Tahoe. “I’m sorry about earlier.” He leaned his forehead to mine, and I pulled back from him.

  “You want to meet my dad?”

  “Sure, babe. Whenever you’re ready. We can go to dinner or something.”

  “How ‘bout now?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Now?”

  I nodded toward the Tahoe.

  “Oh. Now’s fine, then. I guess.”

  I giggled. Parker James was flustered. If there was one thing I didn’t expect, it was to see him flustered over something as simple as meeting my dad.

  But, then, my dad tended to be an imposing guy. He was a rock star, for God’s sake. He was intimidating just because of who he was, not to mention the fact that he was my father.

  Meeting parents was never easy, but if Parker stood any chance of being a permanent fixture in my life, he’d have to meet my dad at some point.

  My mother, too, I supposed, but I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen her.

  We walked over to the Tahoe. My dad rolled down his window.

  I wasn’t prepared for this in any way.

  “This is Parker,” I said to my dad. “Parker, this is my dad.”

  My dad nodded. “Gideon Price. You can call me Mr. Price.”

  I laughed nervously.

  “Don’t fuck around with her, kid,” my dad said. He had a hard edge to his voice that served as a warning, and I didn’t doubt that he’d fuck shit up if he got wind that Parker mistreated me in any way.

  He rolled up the window and the Tahoe pulled away.

  Parker looked mildly surprised, but not shocked. I, on the other hand, was a little shocked and more than a little embarrassed. I understood that my dad wanted to protect me, but he was straight up rude to Parker.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered, pulling my key out of my purse as I walked toward the front door to my complex.

  Parker was quiet behind me. There wasn’t really much to say. That had gone far worse than I’d expected in the twelve seconds I’d had to process the fact that Parker was going to meet my father.

  We walked through the front doors of my building. “He’s usually not quite that big of an asshole.” I pulled open the door to the stairs, opting for the exercise. Besides, the elevator would have been torture after that encounter. Enclosed in a tiny space? It would have been beyond awkward trying to avoid eye contact.

  We walked in silence.

  I unlocked my door and pulled it open, locking it behind us once we were inside.

  “Want a drink?” I asked.

  Parker headed toward the kitchen and helped himself while I stepped out of my shoes. Apparently we were at the stage where he was comfortable enough to dig through my fridge. He pulled out a beer I’d stocked especially for him. �
�What would you like?”

  “I’ve got an open bottle of wine. I’ll get it.”

  Parker settled into my couch, kicking off his shoes and setting his feet on my coffee table. I joined him with my glass of wine a minute later.

  “Talk.” My voice was firm. I didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness that had fallen between us earlier. I wanted to move forward, and he said he wanted to talk.

  He sighed. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “How about why you look like you haven’t slept in three weeks?”

  “I haven’t.” He chugged down half his beer.

  “Why not?”

  “Between writing, missing you, and working with our manager to set up a last minute tour, I feel like I haven’t had a minute to breathe.”

  “You’re here with me, Parker. Take a breath.”

  “But even here I’m out of my element, Jimi. I hate talking. I hate feelings. I hate being away from you. I’m not used to this shit.”

  “What shit?”

  He chugged down the other half of his beer and stood up, heading to the kitchen for another one before answering. “Caring about someone other than myself.”

  “Sorry for fucking up your life.” I did my best to keep the sarcasm out of my tone, but I failed miserably.

  “Stop. It’s not like that, and you know it. I’m not being fair to you. We’ve hardly seen each other, hardly even given this a chance. Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think we both want to give this a chance. Yes?”

  I nodded.

  “Nods are good. Better than shrugs.”

  I smiled. “This is new for both of us, Parker. But I have some things I need to talk to you about, too.”

  He looked at me curiously. “So who talks first?”

  I shrugged.

  “And there’s the girl I know.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You first, then.”

  “I’m going out of town for a few weeks.”

  He raised an eyebrow in my direction. “I am, too.”

  “So let’s sort this out when we both get back. Let’s just have some fun tonight and stop with all the serious talk. I get it, Parker. You’re stressed. You’ve got a shitload on your plate. You’re a musician. I know what that entails, and I’m not going to sit here and hold you back from your dreams. So maybe we need to just put this on hold for a minute and resume when we both get back.”