The Popstar's Star

Chapter 5: Crazy with the good hair

"Here is your decaf latté, fine sir," I said in an exaggerated British accent, handing Dad a mug of coffee.

Dad raised a brow, skeptically before collecting the mug and bringing it up to his nose briefly. "You made a Decaf latte?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Well, at least my version." I shrugged as he took a sip. "It's instant coffee."

Swiftly moving backwards, my body barely missed the projectile as Dad spat out the coffee, his eyes shooting daggers at me.

"What," I asked innocently. "Mom's not home, and I don't know how to use the coffee maker."

He brought out a napkin from the breast pocket, inside his navy blue blazer and dabbed at his mouth, placing the coffee on the stand beside the door.

Taking long strides out of the door, I struggled to keep pace with him as I read out his schedule for the day. "You've got an eleven o'clock meeting with some film producers at Walden Pictures, then Zamora's album signing at twelve thirty." I chuckled lightly when I read the name. "Zamora. What a weird name for a girl, right?"

Meeting one of Dad's scolding looks, I quickly sobered. "Sorry."

When we reached the black SUV, I gave him schedule notebook. Patrick dutifully, opened the door to the backseat of the car, and then returned to the driver's side.

"Oh Dad, one more thing," I said, tapping his shoulder just as he was about to enter, causing him look back impatiently. "Happy anniversary!"

Dad's face contorted into a look of confusion, and then almost immediately his expression changed as his eyes widened when he fully turned to face me, cursing under his breath.

Gasping, I clasped a hand over my mouth. "Don't tell me you forgot."

He placed his hand on the open, car door, bowing his head low in deep thought. It confirmed my suspicions and judging from the way he acted, he was surprised at himself.

"Mom is going to flip," I sang, enjoying the defeated look on his face. It was fun rattling him and rubbing it in his face this way, and it was also good to know I wasn't the only one in the family that screwed up sometimes.

When he lifted his head up, however, he seemed like a man with a plan. "Here's what we're going to do. I can't cancel any of my appointments today, so you'll have to stay home and make the arrangements for me. I'll send everything you need to do via e-mail."

I was about to protest when he cut me off, entering the car and slamming the door shut. He slid the window down and brought out his Platinum credit card. I almost jumped in excitement.

Yeah, it's been a long time since I saw one of those. They used to be my babies, I thought as I cried internally.

Dad held it out and then almost immediately, drew it away from my grasp, making me pout. "I'll know." He squinted, looking directly into my eyes to make sure his words sunk in loud and clear.

Cocking my head to the side, I rolled my eyes as he hesitantly placed the card in my open palm.

He glanced forward, telling Patrick that he was ready to go. And as a warm morning breeze swept through the air causing a few strays hairs to fall onto my face, I brushed them away, watching the car exit the driveway and head out the gate.

Gazing lovingly at the Platinum card in my hand, I started having the feeling that it was going to be a good day as I skipped back happily into the house.

A couple of minutes later, my iPad beeped on the sofa, signaling an incoming e-mail. I checked the message from Dad containing a list of all the things he wanted done. Scanning through it, though, I realized it wasn't more than the regular anniversary stuff: Flowers, chocolates, reservations. How hard could that be?