The driver jumps out and opens the door for me. I walk past the large bubbling fountain and up to the ornate front doors. I ring the doorbell, and the housekeeper, Clara, let’s me in immediately.
“Annabelle!” she says happily, and I smile at her. Clara has been with my dad for five years, and she has always treated me like her own daughter. I lean in and give her a hug.
“I can’t believe your daddy got you here,” she whispers.
I know exactly what she means. She can’t believe that my dad actually got me to come to his house while Roxie was there, too.
I nod at Clara, not wanting to talk about it. My buzz has all but worn off, and now I am really doubting my decision to come here. I always have a hard time stomaching my dad’s bimbos, and this was bound to be a real shit-show.
“Well come on in, honey, and let me take you to your daddy and Roxie. They are in the sun room.”
Usually my dad likes to have pre-dinner drinks on the patio, but I know it’s too hot today. LA’s normally mild weather has been plain awful lately, and no one wants to sit outside during a heat wave.
I follow Clara down the hall, and my sandals click loudly in the hallway. I’m used to all the obnoxious, fancy art that hangs downstairs, but I notice some new pieces hanging on the wall now. My dad doesn’t have the greatest taste in art, and a lot of his choices are ugly, brightly colored modern pieces that look like they were made by a five year old.
But I see a Monet, a Renoir and a Degas.
Christ, are they real? And when did he develop such good taste?
I walk into the sunroom and find my father standing there, looking as handsome as ever, his salt and pepper hair is slicked back and his bright blue eyes are shining with pride for me that I probably don’t deserve. He’s dressed in tan slacks and a tailored white shirt.
And he looks happy.
Really, really happy. Crap. He must really love this Roxie.
Then a woman gracefully walks towards my father from the other side of the room.
Roxie.
I try not to let my jaw drop...she is not what I expected at all.
She looks part punk and part refined. It’s the strangest combination.
And she looks to be fairly close to my father’s age.
Unbelievable.
Roxie is tall and slender, and I can imagine she must kill in a bathing suit, even at her age. She’s dressed in slim, cropped black pants and black heels, with a sleeveless plum blouse that shows off her toned arms. Her skin is a normal shade, not overly tanned like my dad’s usual women. She has a lovely face with high cheekbones and big eyes. She looks real.
But most shocking is her hair. It’s black, short and spiky with a purple streak at the front.
I can’t help but stare.
“Hi Annabelle. I’m Roxie,” she says, and her voice is smooth and friendly.
“Annie,” I mumble as I go to shake her hand. Her grip is firm.
She is nothing like the simpering little girls my dad usually falls for.
I notice the beautiful diamond on her finger. I’m sure Daddy designed it himself. It’s stunning and Roxie catches me looking at it.
“It’s lovely isn’t it?” she murmurs. Then she smiles broadly and pulls me into a surprise hug.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet you!” she exclaims.
I sort of hug her back, I struggle as I try to wrap my mind around my dad’s completely appropriate fiancé. I thought for sure she would be some bimbo that wasn’t much older than me and only after my dad’s money. But I get the strange feeling that she could care less about my dad’s money. It strikes me that she might even have her own money.
“Annabelle is a singer, too,” my dad boasts proudly.
I’m sure Roxie already knows this about me, and I catch my dad’s last word.
Too.
What does that mean?
“Oh, are you a singer?” I ask Roxie.
She laughs loudly. “Oh, heavens no! My son is a vocalist.”
Of course he does. Everyone in LA is trying to make it at something. He’s probably an actor, too.
“How nice,” I say, trying to smile. The last thing I feel like doing tonight is talking about music.
My dad pours me a Coke and hands it to me.
I shoot him an annoyed look.
“Don’t you have anything stronger, Daddy?” I ask sweetly.
“Not for you, dear,” he answers in the same sweet tone.
Roxie smiles, and she does well to hide the slight discomfort that I can tell she's feeling. I’m too tired from being upset all day, plus my dying buzz is giving me a headache, so I give up and lounge across the soft white couch by the windows. I look out into the back yard and see that the landscaping has changed a bit. It’s filled with lots of pink and purple now.
I turn around to say something and I see Roxie smiling at me.