When I complained to Oak about it, he replied, “You’ll need something to do when you’re on tour with me.”
And there’s no point arguing with him. There are times when he simply refuses to listen and the camera is one of those times. As are the pristine set of white Vans, a crossbody bag I mentioned casually one time and a pair of gold sandals I admired in a store window.
I’m not the only one who’s gotten goodies. Shane and Spencer both got new sneakers and passes to an exclusive skate park, along with one-on-one lessons with some guy I didn’t recognize, but the twins did because for once in his life, it was Spencer who couldn’t speak when they met. Paisley got a beautiful Prada bag in scarlet-red.
I protested, but she said that he could easily afford all this stuff with the money that fell into his sofa cushions. I guess that’s true. Still, I watch myself around him. I don’t need more surprise gifts. Hopefully once the tour starts, he’ll be too busy with sound checks and rehearsals to remember to buy me things.
I still can’t believe he wants me to go with him. I made a huge fuss about it at first, but like I said, it’s pointless to argue with Oakley Ford. He’s leaving tomorrow morning for New York City, the first stop of the international tour. I’m flying out to meet him a few days later, because Paisley is away for work and I need to be at home for the twins.
Truthfully, I’m a bit nervous. I’ve never traveled without my family before, and I’m not sure what I’m even going to do on this tour. I’m not a groupie or a roadie or anyone connected with the music industry. For now the only item on my agenda is to take pictures of Oak with my new camera. After that, who knows?
Since Oak will turn twenty during the first week of his tour, we’re throwing him an early birthday party tonight, which is what his mom and I have been so hush-hush about the past few weeks.
“I don’t like surprises.” He tugs on the black eye mask I borrowed from Paisley.
“You don’t like the ones you’ve had in the past. You’ll like this one.”
“How do you know?”
I lean over and kiss him on his cheek. “Because it’s from me.”
“Ty, help a brother out. What’s going on?”
Ty snorts from the driver’s seat. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’m not crossing the Bennett sisters.”
He slides to a stop in front of the restaurant we booked for this event. Katrina’s funding most of it, but Paisley and I did all the decorations. Even the twins helped assemble the gift bags full of mix tapes and cassette players that Paisley and I found at garage sales and thrift stores. I’m following through on my threat to throw him a kid’s party—a normal one since most of his past parties involved lavish things like ice sculptures and famous singers.
Ty and I lead Oak to the back door.
“Five steps,” Ty instructs.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Oak says. “My gut says to run away.”
“Are you sure it’s not saying your girlfriend is going to punch you in the gut if you don’t stop complaining?” I warn.
“No, but I’m hungry so I could be getting mixed messages.” He reaches out and grabs my hand to pull me beside him. “I’m going to buy you something outrageously expensive to punish you.”
I flick his ear. “Maybe that’s my whole goal. To get you to shower me with gifts and goodies.”
“Nah, you’re after my body. Which is very superficial of you, by the way, but I’m learning to deal.”
“Deal with this first,” I announce and then pull off his eye mask. “Surprise!”
“Surprise!” yell the forty-some people gathered in the private room. It’s a mix of my friends, his people and a few of his friends—or at least the ones that he’s indicated he’s somewhat close with.
Oak arrows straight for Kinney Banks, a solo artist he once opened for. “Dude, when did you get in?”
The two give each other hefty backslaps.
“Last night. Your girl reached out to me and I figured I couldn’t miss Oak’s twentieth birthday party.” Kinney lifts up a tack with a donkey’s tail on the end. “Because where else am I going to get to play pin the tail on the donkey?”
Oak turns to me with a huge smile. “My gut was wrong.” He lifts me up and spins me around. “You’re the best, baby.”
“I know.”
He sets me down but doesn’t let go. Together we make the rounds. King and his gorgeous wife came. The band members—sans Luke, who disappeared after the drunken kiss and hasn’t come back. Oak said that any guy who would take advantage of a drunk girl wasn’t one he wanted in the band. I’d protested, but he was adamant. Ty spoke up and said it was a liability because Oak had so many young fans around.
When we get to Katrina, she clutches her son for a long, emotional moment. Before he breaks away, she holds him briefly by the shoulders. “Look at you. Twenty. I can’t believe it.”
“You look great, Mom.”
She flushes with joy at his compliment.
“Carrie, Kiki, thanks for coming.” He gives them each a kiss on the cheek.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Carrie says. She shoves a small wrapped box into his hand. “We didn’t know what to get and Vaughn isn’t much help.” She casts a dirty glance in my direction.
I merely shrug. It’s not easy to shop for someone like Oak.
“I’m sure it’s awesome.” He tears into it and pulls out a key. “What’s this?”
“We’re having an after-prom party. The same group as before and we’d like you to come,” Kiki explains. “We have entry rules. No cameras. No slobbering over the guests. Just a good time for all of us.”
Oak tucks the key in the back of his pocket. “I’m there. Time and place and I’m there.”
“Vaughn will let you know.”
I squeeze his hand as we move to the food table. “Still thinking it’s a bad surprise?”
“No, you did good.” He dips his head to kiss me. “Real good.”
“Where’s the birthday boy?” a hearty voice booms from the door.
Oak’s head jerks up and the pleasure and warmth drains away. “Did you invite my dad?”
“Yeah, all of your family.” I’m a bit uneasy by his expression. When I brought up the idea of inviting Oak’s father to the party, Katrina had been hesitant, but eventually she came around and reached out to Dustin personally. And her reservations had been wiped away when he responded nearly immediately that he would come.
I figured, stupidly, that Oak’s strain with his parents had to do with a big misunderstanding, but now I think it’s something else.
“Oh, babe. I knew I should’ve trusted my gut.” He drops my hand and stalks toward the door.
I hesitate and then scamper after him. Crap. Dustin Ford has brought an entourage with a capital E. There must be fifteen people that stream in behind him.
I detour to Paisley. “Um, can we order more food?”
She eyes the new group with dismay. “No. The restaurant said they couldn’t provide more food than what I ordered. I said the party was fifty, and I honestly didn’t believe everyone would show up. When has that ever happened before?”
But we’ve never hosted a thing for famous people before. Everyone came. King. Paxton Hayes. Even Kinney Banks, who flew a private plane from Chicago to LA to make this event.
Mr. Ford has stopped by the food table and is now surveying the crowd. Near the wall, I can see Carrie and Kiki and the rest of my friends staring at him with stars in their eyes. I guess I don’t blame them for being starstruck. Dustin Ford is megafamous. He was named People’s Sexiest Man Alive three years in a row. He has an Oscar. And two private jets.
Oh, and he’s ridiculously attractive. It feels weird noticing that, considering he’s my boyfriend’s dad, but it’s true. Everything about him is chiseled and expensive and magazine-cover worthy.
“I can’t believe my boy is twenty!” Dustin crows as Oak approaches him. He pulls Oak in for a warm hug and then gives him a manly backslap. “Where does the time go?”