Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
After a bit, the redundancy of the song takes its toll. The other parents who are still here have all occupied their time by reading or sleeping with headphones on, watching their iPads, or yammering on their phones. I’m the only one sitting here with nothing to do except people watch. Thankfully the brim of my hat shields my eyes so no one can really tell if I’m staring at them or not.
It’s about lunchtime when Stormy returns. She looks exhausted but has a beaming smile on her face.
“Y’all done?”
“Nah. It’s lunchtime,” she says and motions for me to follow her outside. There’s a tent set up across the way, and the dancers are all in line, waiting for lunch.
“We can go over to the cafeteria,” I tell her knowing full well that one call to Barbara and I’ll have access to the finer foods on the lot.
“But this is where we’re supposed to eat,” she tells me. I want to give her credit for putting herself in the same light as the others, but also want to shake her because I work my tail off to make sure she has the finer things in life. I know if my mama were here, she’d tell me that Stormy is teaching me a lesson in humility, and she’d probably be right. Stormy is trying to make a name for herself and hasn’t used me to do it.
“You’re right. However, I don’t think they want your daddy eating here, so I’m going to run over to the cafeteria. I’ll be back though.” Much to my surprise, Stormy kisses me on the cheek. It’s the first real emotion, that isn’t part of the grieving process, that she’s shown me since I broke the news about her mother. I’m taken aback briefly, but try not to let her see how much that simple gesture has affected me.
I don’t have to walk far to find a food truck, which will serve its purpose and is better than having to call Barbara to get me a pass into the lot’s café. Honestly, the fewer people that know I’m here the better.
With a burrito in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, I head back to the sound stage and choose to sit outside for a bit so I can enjoy the sun. It’s funny to be on this side of things. The side where people aren’t catering to my every need, making sure that I’d have a seat to sit on as opposed to getting my jeans dirty from the concrete.
Oddly enough I find myself laughing at the situation. Here I am, a mega superstar with a boatload of Grammys, number one hits and sold out tours, and not a single person today has recognized me. It’s either that I’m fugly and no one has had the nerve to tell me, or I’m doing a damn good job staying incognito. I’m going with the latter because my mama would never lie to me and she tells me I’m handsome all the time.
“Do you always eat alone?” The melodic voice of the beauty with wild hair stands before me with her pants tucked into her combat boots and a tight shirt that accentuates every toned muscle of her abdomen. But it’s the gloved hand that diverts my attention. I swallow hard and adjust the way I’m sitting on the ground.
“How’s your hand?”
She lifts it and shrugs. “It burns, but it’ll be okay.”
“I’m truly sorry,” I tell her as I stand, instantly towering over her.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she says, laughing. She quickly covers her mouth and looks away, making me wonder if she’s afraid to snort again. “I’m Zara.”
“Levi,” I tell her as I shake her non-damaged hand. “My daughter is in your video.” I nod to where Stormy is standing and gawking at me. Normally, she’d come over, but I have a feeling she’s tongue-tied. That would definitely be a first for her especially since she’s grown up under the spotlight.
Zara looks over her shoulder and back to me. “She’s our lead in the video. I hope she makes you proud.” She winks before walking away, leaving me a bit speechless at not only her comment but the fact that I don’t think I was done talking to her.
It’s only a matter of seconds before Stormy is in front of me, trying to block me from watching Zara climb the steps that will take her back into the studio, except she doesn’t go in. Instead, she stands there and looks at me. I can feel her penetrating gaze as if it were boring into my soul.
zara
Nine
“What are you doing?” Darian pulls me down the hall toward our makeshift dressing room by my arm. People stare but quickly divert their eyes, probably chalking this up to a brother/sister quarrel. Darian and I are known to have those from time to time.