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“That’s exciting,” Dad says, lifting his glass in a cheers gesture. “Glad I could help out with the reemergence of your career.”
Love how Daddy just took some credit for Tate’s newfound success.
Tate toasts him in return with his water glass, taking a sip before he smothers the smile on his face with his palm. “I guess I owe you one, Fitzy.”
Dad laughs, loving his response. “Nah. That was all you. You were on fire that night.”
“You were,” Mom murmurs in agreement. “All the ladies were screaming.”
“It was a fun night,” I chime in when I realize they’re all waiting for me to say something.
“You recording the album here in the city?” Dad asks. “I know a few producers. Some sound engineers.”
Oh boy, here we go.
“Actually, I’ll be recording the album in Los Angeles.” Tate levels that intense blue gaze of his at me.
“Really? That’s so far. What about you and Scarlett?”
“Well.” He takes a deep breath, that gorgeous smile on his face yet again, flashing it at everyone. “I was hoping she could go with me.”
CHAPTER19
SCARLETT
A few days after the family dinner, unbelievably enough, I’m preparing for my trip to Los Angeles. It’s all I’ve been doing since Tate dropped that little bomb at the dinner table. You’d think I were being whisked away to a foreign country far, far away instead of across the country, considering how my mother is reacting to the whole thing.
“I can’t believe you’re going to Los Angeles instead of on your trip to Europe.” The disappointment in Mom’s voice is obvious, and I guess that’s her biggest issue—me switching up my plans and running off to LA with a guy instead of traveling around Europe with my best friend.
We’re currently in my bedroom, and I’m already packing my suitcase, though I have no idea what to bring. Rachel is coming over later to help me with everything, and I know she’ll figure out exactly what I need to bring. She’s good at that sort of thing.
“You make it sound like Los Angeles is a terrible place,” I say as I go through a stack of shorts, most of them new, the tags still attached. “Should I bring mostly shorts or dresses?”
“Dresses,” Mom says absently as she settles on the edge of the bed, right next to my open suitcase. There are already a lot of clothes inside, and I’m not even close to finishing. Though I guess it doesn’t matter how many suitcases I take, because we’re flying there in a plane Irresistible hired for us. “I’m going to miss you so much when you’re gone, darling. It’ll be so quiet here without you.”
“Mom.” I glance up from my pile of clothes, noting the disappointment and worry on her expressive face. “I won’t be gone that long. Only a couple of weeks.”
“It does not take a couple of weeks to make an album, and you know it, Scarlett. He’s going to keep you there for himself for months.”
Months?
I swallow hard, thinking of spending months with Tate in Los Angeles while he’s always working and I’m stuck in a city I’m totally unfamiliar with. I’m only supposed to be maintaining this facade for six weeks. That’s it. I won’t stay a minute longer than what I signed up for.
A deal is a deal.
“I’m surprised you’re even letting me go with him,” I admit.
“Why? You’re an adult. You can handle yourself.” Mom shrugs, reaching for my stack of shorts so she can go through them herself. Her nose is wrinkling already, and she’s only contemplated two pairs. “We trust you to know what to do and make the right decisions.”
I’m still amazed they’d let me just go across the country with a man they barely know. After all, I only just graduated high school. I might’ve turned eighteen, but I don’t feel like an adult. Though my feelings in regard to Tate don’t feel kid-like, that’s for sure. “Just so you know, Tate did promise me my own bedroom at the house we’re staying at.”
The record label arranged a house for us to reside in while Tate records the album. There’s even a small studio on the property behind the main house, which Tate was extremely excited about. When he explained it all to me last night on the phone, his voice practically vibrated with excitement.
This record deal and this trip are a game changer for him. He doesn’t want anything to mess it up, and truthfully? I refuse to be the reason anything gets messed up. We signed a contract, and I’m legally bound to him for the next six weeks, and I will do my utmost to perform this so-called job as well as I can.
“Oh. So you two won’t share a bedroom?” Mom holds up her hand before I can utter a word. “Never mind. Don’t tell me. I don’t need all the gory details.”
Even if Tate and I were actually together and doing whatever it is she’s trying not to think of us doing, I wouldn’t share a single gory detail with her.
