Lucky Girl (New Adult Rock Star Romance) (10 page)

But how could I tell him that?

“She killed herself.” I picked up the picture of me and my mother. Freshman in high school. Fourteen or fifteen. Had he started raping me yet, I wondered. “I guess she just couldn’t handle it.”

“Jesus. What a mess.” That about summed it up. “So you were left all on your own?”

“I had Dale.” I smiled, glancing over at him. He had headphones on, but he was watching us. “
And John’s been like a father to me.”

“I’m glad.”
He put all the pictures down on the table, leaning in and taking my hand. “If I couldn’t be there for you, I’m glad you had someone.”

“Well you’re here now.” I looked at him and noticed his eyes were blue, like mine. I looked so much like my mother it was hard to see if there was any of him in me. I looked down at our hands together, his swallowing mine. He had a healthy Florida tan. His watch was off-kilter and a white band of skin showed underneath.

“I know this is all new to you. Me too. And I haven’t asked you what you want, but…” His gaze dropped to the photos on the table. “I missed so much of you already. I really want to be a part of your life. But I’d understand if you don’t want that.”

Was he kidding? I’d spent my whole life believing he was dead—my mother told me he’d been in a car accident. She didn’t
even have any pictures of him. The few times I asked, she’d been very vague about the details—just that they’d been young and in love. Then he died while I was still a baby and she had to raise me on her own. Until the stepbeast came along. I think my mother saw him as our savior. I saw him as the antichrist.

And I spent years wishing my father was alive, wishing he could come save me. Then I’d focused all that energy on Tyler Vincent, rock star, movie star—the perfect man, the perfect husband, the perfect father. He had a wife and three children he publicly adored and he lavished all sorts of gifts and attention on them—while I had the stepbeast and dreaded going to sleep at night. It took me a year in therapy after
it all happened to realize I’d just been placing all my hopes on Tyler as a replacement father. My real father was dead, my stepfather was a beast, so Tyler Vincent would have to do.

Ironic, considering how it all turned out.
The more I listened to Dale’s manager, Greg, talk about the music business, the more I realized how the lie of “image” was created. No one in the public knew the real truth about celebrities and that was the point. To the rest of the world, Tyler Vincent was still a rock star, a movie star, the perfect man, husband and father. But Dale knew better. And so did I. Tyler Vincent was a lying philanderer. Everything about him was a lie. I was beginning to believe that was just part of being famous. People liked hearing comforting lies instead of the truth. The truth was too dark and twisted and full of demons. No one wanted to hear the truth.

“I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry.” He sat back in his chair. “I know I have no right…”

“No.” I shook my head, trying to work my voice around the tears caught in my throat. “I’d like that. More than you could ever know. I’d really, really like that.”

“I’m so relieved.” He leaned forward, smiling, and took a deep breath. “Because I have good news. I just got a job here in New York. I’m moving up here next month.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

“That’s the reason I’ve been traveling back and forth. Today was my last part of the interview process. It’s not official-official yet but the manager pretty much assured me I’ve got the job if I want it.”

“Oh my God.” I sat back, incredulous.

“Too much, too soon?” he asked.

“No.” I gave a little, strangled laugh. “No, I just can’t believe my luck. Every time something bad happens, it’s like the universe turns it around into something good.”

“What do you mean?”

I couldn’t even tell him all the things.

If I hadn’t missed my last year of high school, I never would have gone to Iselin Academy, where I met Dale Diamond. And even then, if my stepfather could hold down a job, I wouldn’t have been hungry the day Dale walked into class and heard my stomach growling. He wouldn’t have offered me Skittles and started up our conversation.

And if I hadn’t been head over heels crazy-obsessed with Tyler Vincent, Dale wouldn’t have offered to get me front row seats at his concert. (Of course, at the time, I had no idea Tyler Vincent was Dale’s real father—that didn’t come out until much later. And sometimes I still wondered if Dale had picked me because he saw the “I heart Tyler Vincent” scribbled on my notebook. Like he saw me as a challenge. I didn’t wonder about it before seeing Dr. Jarvis but I did now).

But Dale was my best thing, my most lucky thing of all.

Still, if the stepbeast hadn’t lost control that day, if he hadn’t beaten me and tried to kill me, I might never have moved in with John and Dale. Who knows, I might be dead. If Dale hadn’t been there, I most certainly would be.

And now, that stupid photographer who sold the pictures to the paper, the pictures that threatened Dale’s whole career, had brought my father—my real father—back into my life. My whole life was like being pushed off a cliff only to find I had a soft place to land after all.

“I’m just glad you found me.” I couldn’t stop the tears now. “Now you can walk me down the aisle and dance at my wedding. And you can be there when your first grandchild is born.”

“Okay now you’re scaring me a little.” He laughed, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry.” I sniffed, using a napkin to wipe my face. “Don’t worry, if Dale’s manager has any say in it, we’ll never get married.”

“But you’re wearing a ring.” He nodded at my hand. “A nice one too.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve had this one for a few weeks.” I looked at the huge diamond on my left hand. Then I showed him the ring on my right hand. “But I’ve had this one for two years and we’re still not married. I’ll believe it when the preacher says, ‘And now you may kiss the bride.’”

Ben glanced over at Dale. He had his combat boots on—ready for battle—propped up on a chair. He leaned back in it, arms crossed over his ch
est, headphones on, just watching us.

“He doesn’t like me much, does he?” Ben asked, jerking his head toward Dale.

“He just loves me. He’s very protective.” I smiled at Dale but he just raised an eyebrow at me and didn’t smile back. “He doesn’t want to see me hurt anymore.”

“That makes two of us,” Ben said, giving me a long look. “Are you gonna tell him that he’s going to have to be good and share his things or do I have to?”

I laughed. “Once he gets to know you, he’ll be fine.”

“So tell me, is Aimee back from her honeymoon yet?” he asked, picking up the pictures
again and leafing through them. I’d mentioned Aimee in our phone conversations.

“Yes, we’re having dinner with them tonight actually.”

“Oh look at this one.” Ben laughed, holding up a picture to the light. “You were the most beautiful little girl. Did Carolyn put curlers in your hair?”

“Is that the Shirley Temple picture?” I glanced over, seeing the white lace dress and the long blonde curls. “She made me wear those curlers to bed. They were torture.
Child abuse, I tell you!”

“Is this where you grew up?”

I nodded, looking at the picture. Me and a snowman in front of a little house. Back when the stepbeast only drank—and beat up my mother—on special occasions. I couldn’t remember how many jobs he’d gone through before he couldn’t keep up the mortgage anymore and we’d moved into the apartment complex. Of course, Dale lived in those apartments too, so perhaps it hadn’t been all bad. The universe giveth, the universe taketh away.

Ben continued to sift through pictures, asking questions, genuinely interested, and I found myself unraveling
more of my past for him, untangling it as I went. It took hours and we both laughed and cried a little, but it was one of the memories I would hold onto forever, kept in my mind like a sensory snapshot—the smell of roasted coffee, the sweet taste of hot chocolate, the feel of my father’s hand in mine, the big, roaring sound of his laugh.

And when Dale came over and told me it was time to go to dinner, I couldn’t believe it. Had we really talked
so long? It had gone by in a blink. I tucked the pictures back into my purse, but I let Ben keep the one he asked for—the Shirley Temple snapshot. And then Ben put his big arms around me and hugged me goodbye. And for the first time in my life I called someone, “Dad,” and meant it.

And even when Dale insisted, I still didn’t want to let him go.

      CHAPTER NINE     

“I just don’t get why he didn’t try to find you before now.” Dale parked the car in the Olive Garden parking lot, pocketing the keys. Dale still didn’t own a car so we were driving my old Dodge Dart.

“
When my mom took off, he says at first he was relieved.”

“Nice.” Dale opened the door for me and I stepped in, my stomach growling. I’d only had a scone and a hot chocolate all day and now I was starving. I
could smell garlic and onions. I was suddenly wishing we’d called ahead because all the people waiting in the lobby were standing between me and my dinner.

“
Come on, he was just a kid—younger than us,” I reminded him. “Would you want to have to take care of a newborn at that age?”

Dale didn’t answer.
He was looking over the crowd, trying to find Aimee and Matt.

“
Once he got a little older and thought about looking, he couldn’t find us,” I explained, hanging onto his sleeve as he weaved through the crowd.

“
He seemed to find
you
pretty easy,” Dale countered. “Took him just one afternoon.”

“Well he agreed to the blood test,” I snapped.

Dale stopped, looking back at me. “You asked him?”

“I figured I’d better, before you brought it up,” I said, sticking out my tongue.

He snorted, taking my hand and leading me toward the bar.

“I don’t get why it was so hard to find you before. Didn’t your mom tell her family where she was going?”

“She didn’t see them much.” I shrugged. “One of my first memories is of grandmother asking for our address so she could send me a birthday gift and my mother refusing. I was so mad at her. I just wanted my birthday present.”

“Why didn’t she want them to know where she was?” Dale asked, brow knitted. He was still trying to find Matt and Aimee but I was beginning to think they weren’t here yet. “My grandfather u
sed to beat her. That’s what my mom told me.”

“Why does this not surprise me?” Dale muttered. He stopped, turning around and putting his han
ds on my hips. “What did Dr. Jarvis say about that when you told him that?”

“You know exactly what he said.” I rolled my eyes. “And he also said he was proud of me for breaking that abusive cycle.”

“With me,” he replied smugly. Then he leaned over, grabbing my ass and whispering, “Because as often as I want to spank you, I refrain.”

“We still have time,” I reminded him, laughing as I pulled away. “We haven’t had kids yet.”

“There will be no spanking in our house,” he proclaimed. “Unless it’s me finally spanking you—”

“Hey guys!” I waved to Aimee and Matt. They were already here, sitting at the bar. My stomach seemed to understand that meant we would get to eat sooner and grumbled loudly.

Turned out we were twenty minutes late, which was perfect because the hostess called us before Dale and I could even find seats. The hostess seated us at a booth and the waitress came to take our drink orders. Aimee had pictures back from their honeymoon. We’d already heard about how blue the water was and about the giant tortoise they’d seen when they were snorkeling and how burnt Aimee got the first day because she forgot to put on sunscreen, but now we got to hear about it all over again, with visual aids.

“At least I didn’t get all sunburned before our wedding night,” she said sheepishly.

“Close enough!” Matt protested. “She wouldn’t let me touch her for three days. Three days!”

“I was beet red.” Aimee sighed. “I think I was redder than my hair. I made him keep going down the hall to get more ice for the bathtub.”

“Just what I wanted to do on my honeymoon,” Matt interjected through a mouthful of breadstick.

“My mom even warned me. She put sunblock in my purse for pete’s sake.
”Aimee slapped her forehead. “And I still forgot!”

“You were just
too caught up in being Mrs. Aimee Green,” I teased, taking a sip of my Diet Coke and wishing the waitress would hurry up with my Tour of Italy. I couldn’t wait to eat my lasagna—even if it wasn’t quite as good as John’s homemade.

“Anyway, how did the meeting go?” Aimee asked, leaning forward, all ears.

“Yeah, enough about our honeymoon.” Matt shoved the pictures back into the envelope. “Unless you want me to regale you with the tale of four times…”

“Matt!” Aimee blushed, nudging him with her elbow. It must have been pretty hard too because Matt coughed, spewing little bits of bread into the table. “Shut up!”

“That’s nothing,” Dale scoffed. “One night we—”

I didn’t elbow him. I reached over and shoved a breadstick into his mouth
instead. Dale bit it and chewed, giving me a doughy grin.

“The meeting was… amazing.” Of course I’d told Aimee about Ben—it was still hard to call him “my dad,” even in my head, but it was getting easier.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “Sara, I’m so happy for you.”

“Hold onto the happy for a while,” Dale countered, washing down his bite of breadstick with my Diet Coke. “We haven’t seen the results of blood tests or anything yet.”

“Oh come on, Dale.” Aimee raised her eyebrows at him. “Do you really need to?”

I hadn’t explained Dale’s conspiracy theory about Ben just looking for something sweet out of the deal that had nothing to do with me.

“He could be anybody. I mean, there’s no father’s name on her birth certificate and her mother isn’t exactly around to tell us.”

I winced at that and saw Aimee’s look of sympathy which somehow made it worse. She still had both a mom and a dad—even if they didn’t get along very well, with the exception of her wedding.

“It just seems suspicious to me, that’s all. Maybe I’m wrong.” Dale sat back in the booth, putting his arm over my shoulder. “If the DNA comes back and he’s really Sara’s father, I’ll be the first one to welcome him to the family.”

“Those tests take a long time, don’t they?” Matt asked.

The waitress had arrived with salad and then it was yes, cheese on the salad and yes, we need more refills and sure, bring another basket of breadsticks.

“I saw a show on DNA evidence,” Aimee said. “It took like a month to get the results but they’re pretty conclusive.”

“They’re actually starting to use it to get people out of jail,” Matt remarked.

“Yeah, that was it!” Aimee stabbed an olive on her plate. “It was a death row inmate and the DNA evidence proved he wasn’t even at the scene of the crime!”

“I don’t need a blood test,” I said softly, pushing Italian-dressing soaked lettuce around on my plate. “I just know. Besides, he can answer every question I asked him. He even knew about my birthmark!”

“The one on your shoulder?” Aimee raised her eyebrows. “Geez, Dale. That’s pretty conclusive. You’re going to make the guy submit to a blood test?”

He shrugged. “I’d just feel better if we did one.”

“He agreed to it right away,” I said. “I don’t think he’s worried about it.”

“Well there you go,” Matt said, pointing his fork at Dale. “It’s like lie detector tests. Innocent people never balk at taking them. It’s the guilty ones who hem and haw and find excuses.”

“Like I said, if he’s really the guy, I’ll shake his hand and call him Dad myself.” Dale put his olives on my plate—he hated them and knew I loved them. “I just… I don’t want Sara’s hopes dashed. She’s been through enough.”

“Aww.” I put my arm around him and rested my cheek against his shoulder for a moment. “You’re so good to me.”

He kissed the top of my head.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you!” I sat up, looking at Dale and then over at Aimee and Matt. “He’s moving here!”

“What?” Aimee exclaimed. “Oh wow! For you?”

“No. He had a job interview here that day he saw my picture in the paper.” I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s why he came back today. To finalize things.”

“You’re kidding.” Dale stared at me.

“Nope.” I shrugged. “I swear, my life is one long string of weird coincidences.”

“Right.” Aimee snorted. “It’s not fate or anything.”

“Or God’s plan,” Matt offered.

“Matt!” Aimee elbowed him. “Ix-nay on the od-gay.”

“What? It could be fate but it couldn’t be God?”

“You have to admit, it’s all pretty weird.” Aimee didn’t answer her new husband. “You’re obsessed with Tyler Vincent—and you meet Dale Diamond, who happens to be Tyler Vincent’s love child.”

“Shh!” I put my fingers to my lips. “No one’s supposed to know that.”

“Okay, okay.” Aimee lowered her voice. “But you fall in love with Dale, and he wins that Battle of the Bands and gets all super-famous.”

“Not yet.” Dale smirked. “If I was super famous we wouldn’t be able to sit in an Olive Garden without interruption.”

Aimee ignored him. “Then that goddamned photographer—by the way, Dale, you should sue him. Take him to the cleaners. I won’t buy one wedding picture from him.”

“Aimee, don’t do that!” I exclaimed. “They’re your wedding photos!”

“My mom bought a bunch. I’ll get hers when she’s dead,” she replied. “Anyway, one picture in the paper and poof! Your real dad finds you!”

“I know.” Hadn’t I just been thinking the same thing earlier? “It is weird.”

“
It’s fate.” Aimee insisted. “Like meeting Matt. If you hadn’t stayed after school that day—”

“Washing desks with Dale,” I reminded her.

“Then I wouldn’t have gone home with Carrie and Wendy. And I never would have met Carrie’s brother.”

“What about the bee?” Dale asked. “Was that fate too?”

“Bees are the devil.” Aimee shuddered involuntarily, glaring at him.

“Oh there’s a devil, but no God.” Matt rolled his eyes, getting another breadstick out of the basket.

“Besides,” Aimee said, waving her hand in dismissal. “Matt didn’t fall in love with me because of the bee.”

Matt swallowed and blinked.
“I kind of did.”

“What?”
Aimee clearly didn’t like hearing that.

“Tread carefully here,
” Dale interjected, wagging his finger at Matt. “I don’t want to see you guys on Divorce Court.”

“I just mean… you were so cute, falling all over yourself trying to get away from that bee…” Matt stammered. He was started to turn red. “And you know, I had to get out and rescue you.”

“And no guy can resist rescuing a damsel in distress,” I weighed in.

“But you wouldn’t let me hear the end of it
, Matt!” Aimee put her fork down. It clattered on her empty salad plate. “Oh, Aimee, sit here BEEtween me and Carrie. Oh, Aimee, I do BEElieve I see your house. Oh Aimee—”

“I told you, boys only tease you because they lik
e you,” I reminded her. “Mrs. Stowe was right about that.”

“
BEEsides.” Matt leaned over and kissed her cheek. “It was that stupid BEE who brought us together.”

Aimee crossed her arms, not looking at him, but I could tell she was relenting.

“You should thank him for giving his life, because the way you jumped in my arms, girl. I was totally…” Matt stopped, searching for the word, turning her face to his. “BEEguiled.”