“Yeah, well, Goodwell Academy doesn’t give a shit.”
She stops at the stage door, and we wait in silence with all the other parents until Portia appears.
“You were great, baby.” Cheryl thrusts a kid-sized bouquet of roses into Portia’s arms.
I envelop my daughter in a hug. “Yeah, you were amazing.”
“What song did you like the best, Dad?”
“I liked all of them.” At least I’d be able to fool Portia.
“Did you like my solo?” she asks.
“It was unbelievable.”
Portia smiles up at me. “I didn’t have a solo.”
“You didn’t? Well, you should’ve.”
“I saw you walk in at the end of the show.”
So much for fooling my daughter. Just my luck, she turned out smart like her mama.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. There was so much traffic, and then the door to the school was locked and . . .” Plus I had to deal with a fuckin’ ghost from my past.
“It’s all right.” Portia hugs me back. “You’re here now.”
Cheryl and I exchange a look over Portia’s head. The kid is amazing, and sometimes she acts more like an adult than me or Cheryl.
We take Portia to her favorite restaurant, In-N-Out Burger on the Strip, and she keeps us amused with all the school gossip, including Mrs. Hanson almost falling off the stage,and Kyle Summers throwing up before the performance because he was so nervous.
Portia is engaging and full of life, and I credit Cheryl for all of it. The only thing I can claim is her looks. She’s got my ebony eyes, dark hair and tawny complexion, and the best part is, over the last six months, we’ve formed a strong bond.
We end the night driving down the Strip to see the Christmas decorations, then finally home.
I fold Portia in a hug before she heads up to bed. “Sorry again about missing your concert.”
“It’s okay, Dad.” She gazes up at me with eyes as dark as mine. “Really.”
“Thanks.”
Cheryl herds her up the stairs to bed, and I head to the bar in the living room. I pour myself a double Jack Daniels and head out to the patio. I turn on the outdoor heater and settle on the couch overlooking the pool. Vegas nights in December are cool, but not blustery cold like New York, and usually a light jacket is all I need. I love the way the pool lights shimmer in the darkness. This outdoor space is my favorite place in the whole house.
Never thought growing up I would have a beautiful home like this to live in, but I always knew I wanted something better. I may not have always taken the straight route to get here, but now I would give my life to protect my family and what is mine.
I leave the slider open, hoping Cheryl joins me, ‘cause over the last few weeks we’ve both been slammed at work, plus all the holiday bullshit. Probably why we were bitchin’ at each other this morning.
A few minutes later, I get my wish. Cheryl joins me with a glass of rosé. She’s changed into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, but it doesn’t matter what my woman wears, she’s always sexy as fuck in my eyes.
I pat the cushion next to me. “Get over here and keep me warm.”
She sips her wine and cuddles next to me.
“Sorry I was late. Shit just got crazy.” Broad statement for meeting with a promotor who could raise the club to astronomical heights and being ambushed by a loser from my past. The two parts of my complicated life crashing together.
“I was just worried Portia would feel bad.”
“She seemed fine.” I pull Cheryl closer. “She’s a good kid, and it’s all because of you.”
