by Alla Kar
Fuck, I knew I forgot something. My beanie. “No, I’m not.” I shook my head. And when I glanced at Missy she was shaking her head too.
The girl narrowed her gaze. “I think I know what you look like. I practically fall asleep to your poster every night before I go to bed. And you’re Mr. King’s daughter. You’re totally Paxton Evers.”
I sighed. “If I say I’m Paxton Evers can we have a private booth in the back?”
She beamed. “You sure can. You’ll have Heather’s section—she’s a huge fan, just warning you.”
Great. The hostess brought us to the back of the restaurant and showed us to our booth. “I love the atmosphere here,” Missy said. “It’s romantic.”
Nodding, I settled back against my seat and stared at her. She was reading the menu word for word. “See something you like yet?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I always look even though I know I’m going to get the grilled chicken plate.” She giggled. “My dad used to get mad that I would take so long. Just tell me to hurry if I start taking too long.”
I’d never tell her to hurry. “Do you have somewhere to be tonight because I don’t? Take your time.”
Missy grinned without looking up at me. “Hi!” The waitress almost yelled at me. She had her ticket book pressed against her chest. Her red hair was slicked back into a ponytail. Her hazel eyes were wide and darting in-between Missy and me. “My name is Heather and I’ll be your waitress this evening.” She giggled.
“Hi Heather. You ready, Sugar?” I asked Missy.
Heather let out a small squeal. “I’m sorry to interrupt but my friends and I are so excited that you two are together. You’re just so cute!”
That’s one person that thinks so. “Thank you—,”
“I mean the tabloids are always so freaking rude. If you love her then you just do.” She turned to Missy. “And what’s up with that Benton Ferguson bullshit, right? I heard he tried to rape you! You poor thing. I have a hotline I run over at the college for girls that’ve been through traumatic events. You can totally call and ask for me if you ever want to talk.”
Missy’s face was ghost white. “What all was said?” she whispered.
“That your asshole dad—sorry—tried to make you say it was a misunderstanding. There is no way someone misunderstands no. God! People are so freaking stupid!” She was shaking her head and swearing under her breath for a long time.
Missy looked at me. We had been avoiding any kind of social media for days. We knew something would be announced about it but didn’t know what. “Oh, I’m so sorry I’m completely rude. What can I get you guys to drink?”
We ordered quickly so that she would leave. Missy cupped her face and shook her head. “Dad is going to be pissed. I knew it would be out but I didn’t know how much of the actual story would be there. Someone is on the inside telling everything. I wonder who it was?”
I shrugged. “Are you okay? I mean—we can get our food to go.”
“No, I’m starving and it looks like this is going to be an everyday thing for us. It’s part of the package, right?”
I nodded. “With fame comes disaster.”
Once we received our food, we both dug in like we hadn’t eaten in days. “You nervous about your audition tomorrow?” she asked over her fork.
“No,” I said. “I’m ready for it.”
“You sounded good earlier. Hopefull—,” Missy trailed off into silence.
“You okay?” I asked, turning to see what she was looking at. It didn’t take me long to see. It was kind of hard to miss her dad and his entourage. He held his cellphone between his shoulder and neck and talked loud enough for everyone to hear.
“No, Ferguson. I told you that I had nothing to do with her—,” he stopped. He’d spotted us. “I have nothing to do with her anymore. Stop calling me with this.”
Mr. King shoved his cell into his coat pocket but kept his gaze glued to us. And when he started coming over to our table, I felt anger start to clog my throat. He was not going to talk to Missy.
“Don’t take another step over here or I swear you’ll get it worse than your son did.”
He stopped a few feet away with his fists clenched at his sides. “You think parading my daughter around L.A upsets me, Paxton? I don’t care what you do with her. You’re not getting back at me by doing this.”
What the fuck? I slammed my fists down on the table and shot up until I was an inch in front of the fucker’s face. “You think this is about you? Of course you do! You only think about your goddamn self. I’m in love with your daughter, Mr. King.” I laughed and grabbed my hair. I wanted to slam his head into the tile floor. “And there is nothing you can do about it! She’s not dating Benton to help your career and she is going to have nothing to do with you again. The sad thing is that you don’t care.” I turned and looked at the restaurant full of people. “Forget it,” I spat at him. “Just go eat your steak, and fuck yourself while you’re at it.”
I threw some money on the table, offered Missy my hand and guided her out of the restaurant. I could hear the sobs breaking from her throat and it made me want to go back inside and beat him to a pulp.
My parents abandoned me but they didn’t stick around to shove it in my face. The more I thought about it the angrier I got. Missy’s entire body shook with cries. I knew she didn’t care about her dad but having your father throw you to the lions in front of everyone—twice would have made Satan cry.
She didn’t even move when we stopped at my house, so I picked her up and carried her inside. The saddest part of it all was that I couldn’t do anything to make her feel better. I couldn’t force her dad to apologize any more than I could force Nick to.
We didn’t speak but I slipped her t-shirt over her head and tossed it to the side. Then I replaced it with one of my shirts and helped her into another pair of panties. By the time she was completely changed and I was tucking her into bed beside me, her cries had stopped.
“Sugar, do you need anything?” I asked.
She rested her head against my chest and then slowly shook her head. “Yes.”
“Anything.”
“I want you to go and nail this audition tomorrow. My dad is mad that I disobeyed him because he is a control freak. But he’s angrier that you chose me over him.” She leaned up on her elbows and stared at me through watery eyes.
I wanted to wipe away all the sadness. “The best thing we can do is get you a job and show him that you don’t need him. And neither do I.”
She was right. Rubbing my knuckles against her cheek, I nodded. “That I can do. Any other requests?”
She nodded. “Sing me to sleep.”
“I can do that too.”
Chapter Fifteen
Missy
Bam. Bam. Bam.
I sat straight up in bed. Blinking rapidly, I tried to focus my blurry morning eyes.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
I squinted at Paxton’s alarm clock and it read seven thirty. In the morning. What was up with people knocking on his door at the butt crack of dawn?
Paxton was asleep on his stomach, one hand hanging off of his bed and the other still hanging over my waist. He looked so cute with his mouth agape. If you took away the drool he’d be ready to walk the runway right out of bed. Lucky bastard.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
“Paxton.” I nudged his shoulder. “Get up.”
“Go back to sleep,” he mumbled, grabbing me and dragging me closer to him. I tried to get out of his grip but he pulled tighter.
“Paxton someone is at the door!”
He huffed and nuzzled his face into my hair. “Your hair smells like sunshine.”
I snorted. “You’re still dreaming, obviously. Get up!” I started shaking him until he sat up in bed.
“Good, God woman I’m not a sex machine. You can’t just wake me up and expect me to whip it out.”
“I’m not trying to get some! Someone is at the—,” Bam. Bam. Bam. “Door.”
He grumbled and pressed his palms against his closed eyes. “It seems like as soon as I bring you home everyone starts beating down my door every morning.”
“Sure blame it on the girl.”
He grinned and kicked the sheets from his legs. “You’re going to put a shirt on, right?”
He turned to look at me. “This is my house. They shouldn’t have woke me up so damn early.”
I rolled my eyes and followed him down the hallway. He swung the door open and my jaw dropped. “Um, is Missy here?”
“I’m here,” I said, walking toward the doorway.
Tears were streaming down Ginger’s face and she was holding a box in her arms. Paxton took it from her and sat it to the side. “Come in.”
She sniffled and walked in so that Paxton could shut the door. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
She smiled. Her blond hair was a mess and her cheeks stained with mascara. “I just stopped by to bring you the things you guys left on the tour bus. Your dad was going to have it all thrown out but I snuck them out.”
Paxton gave me a sideways glance. “So, why are you crying?”
I elbowed him.
She laughed and let out a huge sigh. “I dumped your dad.”
“You were dating?” I asked. Even though everyone knew they’d been screwing for a while.
She narrowed her gaze. “Come on, Missy. I know you knew. Hell everybody knew. I just finally realized what I was doing was wrong and told my husband.”
Oh, shit. “I’m taking that it didn’t go well,” I said.
“No, we’re getting a divorce.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, patting her shoulder. “I could have told you before that my dad is not worth it.”
“If I’d only asked you before.” She grinned and looked over at Paxton. “Sorry to hear you’re not in Fringe anymore.”
He snorted. “I’m not.”
“And I’m sorry that your dad kicked you out like that.” Her eyes wandered the room for a minute. “But it looks like you’re doing pretty good for yourself now. I did go to the media and tell them about what he did.”
My mouth dropped. “You were the one that told what happened? We were wondering how it got out so fast. And with all the details this time.”
She gave me a smug grin. “There is plenty more I can tell too. Your dad has a lot of dirty laundry.”
“I bet.”
“Well, I better get going. I just wanted to drop off your things. Oh—I almost forgot.” She retrieved a card from her wallet and passed it to Paxton. “Tell your agent to give this guy a call. Their guitarist broke his hand and they need a replacement.”
Paxton read over the card. “Thanks, Ginger.”
“No problem.” Leaning forward, she pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “You guys have fun and be careful. And you better take care of her.” She poked Paxton’s chest.
“Oh, I intend to.”
She gave him an I’ll bet look and disappeared out of the door.
“Well I knew that was coming,” I said. “It seems like my dad can’t keep a woman happy for nothing.”
“What’s in the box?”
I walked over and dug around through some clothes I’d left and then pulled out Paxton’s chest. “Your weed chest.”
“It’s not a weed chest. I had to hide it from children.” He grabbed it and I tried to reach for it, causing my t-shirt to ride to my waist.
“Let me see!”
“Why are you so curious about smoking pot? You never tried it ever?”
I shook my head. “I told you my dad kept me locked up like Rapunzel. Valeria’s tried it a couple of times and liked it.” I shrugged. “I just wanted to try.”
“Try it,” Paxton said. “I thought you said you were curious, not you wanted to try it.”
I tried to grab it again but he held it higher. “What did you think curious meant, Pax?”
“Come on,” I pouted. “Just one puff.”
He shook his head. “No ma’am. I will not be the reason you turn into a pot head!”
“It’s one puff!” I tossed my hands in the air.
He gave me a long stare and I almost thought he’d considered it but shook his head. “Later.”
“Swear?”
He sighed. “I’ll let you try later. I need to get dressed and practice a little before my audition. And I will not be doing it high.”
“Okay, Mrs. Daisy.”
He growled.
***
Paxton insisted that I go to his audition.
Although I just sat in the waiting room while he was back there. Since I still hadn’t gotten a new phone since the Benton attack, I sat in the hard chair and flipped through the newest issue of some tabloid that was mostly full of shit.
The click-clacking of the receptionist on the computer keyboard and the soft sound of the TV in the background was the only noise in the room with the occasional sound of me flipping the pages.
The door squeaked opened a few seconds later. A tall lady on her cell-phone walked in. “I’m here to see Mr. King. Is he in?”
My ears perked up. Why was my dad here? “Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked.
“Yes. It’s under Summers.”
Someone cleared their throat and I turned to see a guy with a Mohawk standing behind her. He was carrying a guitar in one hand and the other was holding what looked like sheet music.
When I glance up he blew me a kiss.
I rolled my eyes. “He’ll be ready for you soon. Take a seat and I’ll let you know when he’s ready.”
The woman sighed, covered the phone with her hand and said, “Come get me when he’s ready. I need to take this.”
The guy nodded and took a seat on the opposite wall, in the seat right across from me. My dad was here. Why? The last I heard he didn’t have anything to do with this producer.
“What’re you thinking about over there, Sweetheart?”
“Are you talking to me?” I asked.
“Do you see anybody else in this room?”
“Actually,” I glanced toward the secretary. “I do. Thanks.”
“Funny girl. Wait a minute—are you Missy King?” He barked out a laugh. “I’ve heard some things about you lately, girl.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “Are you really fucking Paxton Evers?”
My grip tightened on my magazine, and it crumbled in my hands. “Mind your own business, Mohawk.”
“Good one.”
I started to flip him off when I heard my dad’s voice from down the hall. I didn’t want him to see me but I did want to see him. “Excuse me, where is the bathroom?”
The receptionist didn’t look up but pointed down the hallway. “Bingo,” I whispered. “Thank you.”
I put my magazine down, and ignored Mohawk whistling at me as I walked out. There were tons of doors but I wasn’t looking at them. I was listening to my dad’s voice from around the first corner.
“—he’s really good, Mr. King. I think we should give him a chance.”
“Hell no. That bastard isn’t going to play again. He went behind my back and slept with my daughter. And not to mention she ran off with him. He is not getting the job.”
Anger was raging inside of me. The conversation was dwindling in and out of my hearing because I couldn’t focus. Doors were shutting and opening, the sound vaguely registering in my brain.
“Paxton, we’ll give you call if we’re interested,” the person said. I couldn’t see their faces but I could hear the regret in his voice.
“He’s here isn’t he?’ Paxton said.
“I’m not sure who you’re talking—,”
“Mr. Patrick King is here isn’t he? That’s who I heard you out there talking to.” I could only imagine the look on the guy’s face. “Okay, that’s all I needed to know. Thanks a lot.”
I heard footsteps and I ducked inside the alcove where the water fountains were. Then I heard cussing and then something hit hard. When I
peeked around the corner, Paxton had his forehead pressed against the wall with both hands on either side.
This wasn’t his fault. He would have gotten the job if it wouldn’t have been for my dad, hell, he wouldn’t have been in the position in the first place if it wasn’t for me. My dad was screwing up everyone’s life because he could. Because I wasn’t in his house underneath his thumb. And he was taking it out on Paxton.
Before I lost my nerve, I started walking—storming—down the hallway. Paxton looked up. “Hey, what are—okay,” he said as I passed by him.
Since I had no idea where I was going, I started opening random doors until I found my dad sitting at a huge oval shaped table with a few other men surrounding him.
Dad’s face went ghost white when he saw me walk inside. “Missy what in the hell—,”
“Shut up!” I screamed. “Don’t you say one word. It’s my turn to talk and damn it you’re going to listen to me!”
Dad stilled in his chair, and gave me his best death glare. I didn’t care. He had no control over me any longer. “I heard your conversation in the hallway. Yes, I was eavesdropping! Why must you fuck everyone’s world up around you! You can’t keep a wife. Hell, you can’t even keep a mistress! You’re the lousiest dad I’ve ever met. You are selfish, stupid, and the most controlling asshole to ever grace this planet! But guess what, Dad? You’re not controlling me anymore!”
I turned to grab my hair and found Paxton standing in the doorway. His eyes huge. The look on his face was something of shock and admiration. I whipped around and pointed my finger. “Paxton is the best damn guitarist I’ve ever heard. You said it yourself when you hired him. He’s kind and gentle. He’s everything that you’re not! And he lets me make my own decisions and learn from them.”
The pen Dad was holding broke in his grip and ink squeezed all over his hand and paper. He didn’t even flinch. “And yeah, I had sex with him!” I shouted. I knew I was pushing it but I wanted him to understand. I wanted him to know everything. “And I fucking loved it. In fact, I’m going to go do it again right now! Maybe in the parking lot. Let the press get a good shot of my ass for the front cover.” I held my hands up in the air. ‘Patrick King’s daughter caught doing the nasty in a public place.’ How about that dad? And then I’ll make sure they get a good shot of my tattoo!”