FanGirl Squeal (RockStars of Romance Book 1) (27 page)

Twenty minutes after he’d hauled ass out of his manager’s
office, Cash was walking through a heavy oak door bearing the name, Ford Family
Counseling, on a brass nameplate.

The waiting area looked like a living room. It was
comfortable and relaxing, something that Cash assumed would be important to the
Fords’ patients. There was no receptionist at the desk. She or he must have been
gone for the day. Cash roamed around the room, pausing to look at pictures of
the Ford family on the walls and on the fireplace mantle.

There were faded pictures of an attractive couple posing
with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his wife, with Malcolm and Betty, and with
Jesse Jackson. There were pictures of Savannah’s parents with Dr. Maya Angelou,
Melissa Harris-Perry, Benjamin Todd Jealous of the NAACP, and Oprah Winfrey.
Cash was very impressed. Tracy was right. Savannah did come from a very influential
family.

He moved on from the litany of impressive photographs to the
family pictures. Graduation pictures of the twins from high school and college
adorned the walls. Pictures of them marked their childhood and each new phase
of life. Cash stared at stunning picture of Ashley and Savannah at the
debutante ball that Savannah didn’t like talking about.

“They were the prettiest girls there,” a deep and
intimidating male voice said from behind Cash.

He quickly turned around and was face to face with Savannah’s
mother and father.

“Definitely,” Cash nervously agreed. “You have very
beautiful daughters. It’s good to see you, sir.”

There was a slight tremble in Cash’s hand as he reached out
to shake Timothy Ford’s hand. At six-four, Cash was used to being the tallest
person in the room most of the time. Dr. Timothy Ford hovered near six-seven.
Those three inches made a difference. Cash studied Dr. Ford’s face, looking at
the close resemblance between him and Savannah. They had the same eyes.

Mrs. Ford was staring hard at Cash. Her smooth brow was
actually wrinkled as she gingerly took his hand and shook it.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” Cash stated.

Dr. Deborah Ford released his hand and nodded slowly. “You’re
dating our daughter,” she replied. “We need to have a conversation about that.
We’ll talk in my husband’s office.”

Cash followed behind the doctors with a sense that the foreboding
couple was not going to be easy on him, especially Timothy Ford. He didn’t look
like he’d be easy on anyone. His steel gray suit was tailored perfectly to fit
his towering frame. Dr. Timothy Ford did not have the warm and likable demeanor
of the therapists that Jennifer had dragged Cash to when he was a ten-year-old
kid asking questions about his absentee father.

Both doctors were too studious and too collegiate to have
that comforting demeanor. They looked better suited for a position on the NYU
Board of Directors than Family Counseling. Luckily, Cash wasn’t there to get
counseling.

The office certainly matched the man; dark heavy wood, lots
of books, burnt red leather furniture and accents. His numerous degrees and
accolades adorned the walls.

“Have a seat Mr. Myers,” Timothy requested as he sat behind
his large desk. Cash took one of the chairs across from him and Mrs. Ford sat
in the other.

“Since you requested this meeting, we’ll let you speak
first.”

Cash appreciated Dr. Ford’s acquiescent. After their initial
meeting, Cash was certain that the Fords would never truly accept him as the
man in their daughter’s life without having a chance to get to know him. He’d
parade his entire family through their office if that’s what it took for obtain
their blessing.

When Savannah had hesitated to give him her father’s phone
number, he found it online. Having a conversation with her parents was
important to Cash because Savannah was important to him. Unlike his mother,
sister, manager, and publicist, he didn’t think that Savannah was going to jump
ship just because Victoria was pregnant. Well, he didn’t think so anymore. He
was just struggling with how to tell her because he didn’t want her to be angry
with him for any reason.

Cash cleared his throat. He didn’t want his nervousness to
show. If the situation with Savannah and Victoria worked out in his favor, he
would have to have at least one more conversation with her parents when he
asked for their permission to marry Savannah. This conversation was just
batting practice.

“Well,” Cash started, “Savannah is important to me. I want
her to be comfortable with me and our relationship and I know she values your
opinion a lot.”

“Oh yeah?” Mrs. Ford snorted. “Obviously, you don’t know our
daughter very well.”

“But I do,” Cash argued. “She acts like she doesn’t care,
but what you guys think is always first and foremost in her mind.”

“How long have you and Savannah been seeing each other?” Dr.
Ford asked. “And how did you meet? I know my daughter isn’t the kind of girl
who waits for celebrities backstage or anything like that.”

“No, she’s not,” Cash agreed. “Savannah and I met in June
when she was up here to celebrate your anniversary. I was supposed to do an
interview with her for her website.”

Both doctors looked relieved that the circumstances
surrounding their meeting were professional. Cash knew that Savannah didn’t
want her parents to know about the book so he kept that to himself.

“We really clicked,” Cash continued. “We really connected
and I wanted to get to know her. We spent most of that weekend together and
have been dating ever since. Her family is very important to her so I wanted to
give you the opportunity to learn more about me than what you can find online before
you deem me unfit to date your daughter.”

Timothy sat back in his chair and gave Cash a slight nod of
his head. “That’s admirable. Here’s the thing, Mr. Myers,”

Cash shifted in his chair. He was uncomfortable being called
Mr. Myers. It brought back memories of detention and visits to the principal’s
office.

“Yeah, um, you can just call me Cash.”

Mrs. Ford raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Is Cash the name
your mother gave you?”

“Actually, it is,” Cash grinned for the first time since he
walked into that office. “She was a single mom and thought it was cute to
always have a little Cash since we never had any extra money.”

“Amusing,” Mrs. Ford muttered.

“As I was saying,” Dr. Ford started again. “My wife and I
have raised our daughters a certain way. Our family is very influential in the African-American
community. Savannah and Ashley have been afforded many privileges that most
girls haven’t. I have very high expectations for my daughters.”

“And that includes not bringing home the white guy for
dinner, right?” Cash accurately guessed.

Timothy’s lips curled into a smug smirk. “That’s one of way
phrasing it.”

“It’s not like I don’t understand that,” Cash stated,
looking at each of Savannah’s parents. “But there’s more to who I am and who
Savannah is than race.”

“Do you have many African-American friends, Cash?”

“Umm, no,” Cash stammered. “I wouldn’t say many. I have a
few that I’ve met in the industry and that I grew up with. Most of my friends
are from back home.”

“Where’s home?” Deborah asked.

Cash sat back in surprise. The Fords truly knew nothing
about him. Most of his personal information was in his bio on his website. He
wondered if they hadn’t taken the time to do a little background digging on his
because they knew he and Savannah didn’t stand a chance.

“I’m from Boston, a little area called Roxbury.”

“I assume your neighborhood was predominantly Caucasian?”
Deborah stated.

“No, it wasn’t. Roxbury is predominantly black and
Hispanic.”

Deborah wrinkled her nose again. “So, you’re one of those.
Since you grew up around black people, you assume you know our struggle. You
grew up in “the hood” so you can relate, correct?”

“Actually, that’s incorrect, Dr. Ford,” Cash answered
honestly. “I can relate to people who grew up poor with no father around. I can
relate to some of the frustrations and worries that growing up in violent
neighborhood fosters, but I can’t relate to being black in those circumstances
because that wasn’t my experience.”

“Umm-hmm,” Timothy murmured. “Tell us about yourself, Cash,
since you want us to get to know you.”

Timothy and Deborah appeared to be listening in that
clinical way therapists are taught while Cash talked about growing up in
Roxbury, the only child of single mother. He told them how he got into music
and eventually how he became a platinum selling artist. He must have spoke for
about twenty straight minutes. When he was done, he felt like he’d done a good
job of selling himself. Mrs. Ford had even smiled when he told them how happy
and proud his mother was when he called her to tell her that he got a record
deal.

Cash couldn’t tell if his back story had any effect on
Savannah’s father. His chiseled ebony face was completely void of any signs of
understanding or empathy.

“You’ve had quite a life,” Dr. Ford remarked when Cash was
finished. “I can see why my daughter is into you.”

Cash sat up straight in his chair. Maybe all that talking
wasn’t in vain. Maybe just knowing a little more about Cash and the things he’d
gone through to get to where he was had convinced the doctors to accept him
into their daughter’s life.

“I raised two African-American women. They’re beautiful,
kind, courageous, intelligent, and hardworking,” Dr. Ford stated calmly. “Do
you know how it makes me feel that they will never be good enough in many
people’s eyes?”

The sharpness of Dr. Ford’s question shocked Cash. He couldn’t
believe that a father would say that about his own children.

“I apologize, but I don’t understand what you mean.”

Both doctors chuckled grimly. “Of course you don’t,” Mrs. Ford
said. “You’ve reached the top of your mountain, young man. You don’t see
Savannah’s struggle. She’s a black woman, a double minority. Everything she
does is scrutinized, from the way she talks to the way she does her hair. She’s
competing in an industry that doesn’t want any parts of her. An industry that
doesn’t respect or accept her intelligence. You’re a pop star. You’ll never
understand what she goes through on a day-to-day basis.”

“Savannah talks to me,” Cash informed her parents. “She
tells me what she goes through.”

“Did she tell you that she ran her website under a different
name and fake picture for the first few years because one of her college
professors told her it would be more successful if people thought she was
white? Does she tell you about all the times she’s been passed over for jobs,
jobs that were easily handed to her white counterparts with less experience?
Did she tell you that was the reason that she decided to go freelance instead
of working at a network or real paper? From the look on your face,” Deborah
said, “I can tell that she hasn’t told you any of those things. Why do you
think that is?”

Cash shrugged. He admitted that there were things that he
and Savannah did not discuss but they’d only been together for three months. No
one could expect him to know everything that she’d been through in twenty-seven
years after only three short months, especially not her parents.

“No, she hasn’t told me any of that,” Cash answered. “But-”

“In this situation, Mr. Myers,” Timothy broke in, “there can’t
be any buts. You can look me in my eyes and say, ‘Dr. Ford, I don’t see color’
and I’ll look you right back and call you a fool. You and my daughter do not
live in a world where color does not matter. You live in a world where white is
the default answer. Do you understand what white privilege is?”

Cash nodded slowly.

“Do you acknowledge that you have it? Do you acknowledge
that no matter what happens, you’ll always be better off than my child because
you are a white man?”

Again, Cash nodded. “I’m aware, Dr. Ford. But I can’t do
anything about how the world views me. All I can control is what goes on in my
life.”

“What my husband is getting at,” Deborah interrupted, “is
that when you and Savannah step out together, holding hands and claiming to be
in love, everyone is going to see color first and foremost. The nicest thing
they’re going to say is ‘she’s pretty for a black girl.’ When you and our
daughter start being seen together in public, she’s going to get hit with all
the shit being thrown.”

“We don’t doubt that you and Savannah care about one
another,” Timothy added, “but how are you going to protect her from the
nastiness that gets thrown her way, just by her choice to date a white
superstar. How are you going to handle the snide remarks about her hair and her
skin color? How are you going to take care of her or comfort her when one of
your idolizing fans calls her nigger? What are you going to go when your
friends judge her and label her as a gold-digger?”

“My friends-” Cash started to say aren’t racist, but Mrs.
Ford interrupted him.

“Son, everyone’s colorblind until you bring the black girl
home for Christmas,” she said with a small giggle. “She told me how great your
friends were when you took her to Boston. That will change when it starts to
get serious.”

“She told you about Boston?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Ford nodded. “Savannah is doing the same thing
you’re attempting to do and that’s convince us that your relationship is okay.
That everything’s going to be fine. But she also told me that you and she haven’t
been seen in public together as a couple. That changes things, Mr. Myers.”

Cash was still as the questions Dr. Ford brought up swirled
around in his head. He had absolutely no idea what he would say to his girl if
someone was racist to her. It seemed like “it’s going to be okay” wasn’t
exactly the correct response. Still, nothing changed the fact that Savannah was
the first thing he thought about in the morning and the last thing on his mind before
he fell asleep. Being together wasn’t going to be easy, but every part of him
knew that she was worth it.