Dirty Little Secrets(10)
This meant that, after my agency took their cut, and I got the money for this most recent photo shoot, I’d have just over eight thousand dollars in the bank. Nowhere near enough to pay Sydney, who I knew would only demand more. Hell, he had even put in an implied threat to demand to fuck me in the future. But what was I supposed to do?
Chapter 4
Kade
I love driving my Lexus. Certainly, it’s not the most sporty car on the road, and there are quite a few of my contemporaries who drop twice the money I do to get Mercedes roadsters, Porsches and other high-end sports cars.
But why? My Lexus LS has more than enough horsepower to do anything I want to do on the road, and I don’t plan on taking the thing onto a track. Best of all, I could cruise all day in my LS and still feel pretty fresh at sunset. Also, it was a bit deceptive in that while it looked like a big four-door sedan, it handled well, and best of all I could get all the way to Los Angeles on only two tanks of gas.
I took my time, leaving Portland and skipping Interstate 5 to cut over to the coastline. I’ve always loved the ocean, and got to spend hours cruising down US Highway 101 all the way to northern California, where it joined up with the famous Pacific Coast Highway and continued south. I kept to the 101 until San Francisco, where I stopped for the night before continuing on in the morning using just the PCH. By Friday breakfast time, I was on the outskirts of Los Angeles, and had to fight my way through standard LA traffic to Orange County. My dad’s new house was in Laguna Beach, and while I didn’t get there often, he still kept a bedroom just for me. With six bedrooms in the house, it wasn’t like he was hurting for the space, and it did give me a sense of comfort, even if some of it was a bit dated now. I mean, the room still had a poster of Roy Jones, Jr. on the wall, along with one of Tom Brady. At least Brady was still winning games, but it certainly gave the room a teenage guy feel.
“Hey, is anyone home?” I yelled when I walked in the front door. “I know you both can’t be at work, it’s your anniversary weekend!”
“Kade!” I heard from the back, and I got to see Layla come out. Tall like her daughter, Layla was forty-eight, ten years younger than Dad. I’d worried about that at first until I saw how they were together and knew that Layla truly loved my father. She was very beautiful for her age and had proven herself a wonderful match for Dad. “I didn’t expect you for another couple of hours. Derek’s actually not home yet.”
“Where’d he go?” I asked, curious as we exchanged hugs. “I’d have expected him to be hanging out here, bugging you in the kitchen or something like he does every time he spends time at home.”
Layla laughed musically, and I was again struck by how much she looked like her daughter. Except for her hair being light brown instead of ash blonde, she looked like you had taken Alix and just aged her a bit. “Your father, as you know, is off on another one of his crusades. He got a call from the members of the local Lions; he’s organizing a charity auction for them, and they just had to get some information from him before the weekend. Derek was going to say no until I reminded him that if he just hung around the house all day, he’d drive me up a wall. So off he went, although I’m sure he’ll be disappointed he wasn’t back before you got here. So how was your drive?”
“Quite nice, the Pacific’s the same as ever,” I replied as the two of us caught up. I wished I had more time to talk with Layla. She was, in a lot of ways, the woman I’d have wished I could have grown up with as a mother. As it was, with my life in Portland and her life in Laguna, we didn’t get together nearly as often as I’d have liked.
I was just telling Layla about my newest investment, a six-unit apartment building in Corvallis, near Oregon State University, when the front door rattled, and I heard my father come in. “Layla? Kade?”
Regardless of the fact that I was now twenty-six years old, I hugged him like I did back in the days when it was just the two of us, squeezing until he groaned and slapped me on my back. “Okay, okay, let go, you’re going to break a rib!”
“Just remember, you can’t spell torture without tort,” I teased, an old lawyer’s joke that got him to smile. “How’re you doing, Dad?”
“It’s good to see you, Kade,” he replied happily. My Dad was shorter than me, at just over five foot ten compared to my six two. I got a lot of my height from my mother, who, like Layla, was tall. I guess Dad had a thing for tall women. “I’m not going to ask you about your drive; I’m sure Lay’s been twisting your ear for as long as you’ve been here. But it’s good to see you.”