“I was just thinking about something.”
I glanced at Grandma, who was standing there waiting.
“What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking that you’re a nice girl and you shouldn’t feel bad about your scar.”
“Jonovan, you know I get bullied a lot. Not by our friends but the other kids.” I started kicking through the grass with my jelly shoes. “I’ve learned to accept it. It’s been five years since my mother did this to me.”
“Well, I think you’re pretty.”
We stared into each other’s eyes for a brief moment, and I was in shock.
“Caprice, get in here now!” Grandma’s patience was gone and, to top it off, we were disrespecting an elder by not obeying.
“I have to go. Thanks again, Jonovan.”
I went inside and dashed up to my bedroom so I could look out the window and see him ride off down the street. For a few seconds, I actually thought I could get a boyfriend. Jonovan was so cool.
That fantasy was short-lived. I called Cherie to tell her that I was back home and she burst my bubble quickly after I told her that Jonovan had told me that I was pretty.
“He told me the same thing. He tells every girl that she’s pretty. That’s what boys do.”
The last sentence was dripping with sarcasm.
I wished them a good night with their sleepover. Grandma locked up the house and then came upstairs, peeking her head into my room to make sure I hadn’t climbed out the window.
“I’m still here, Grandma.”
“Just checking. I know how kids can be once they hit puberty.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a good girl. Cherie wanted me to stay over with her and the other girls, but I came home to be here with you.”
“I would’ve let you stay.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Maybe next time.”
“Thanks, Grandma, but I’d really rather be here with you at night.”
“I love you, Caprice.”
“Love you, too.”
She closed my door. I turned on my General Electric alarm clock on low. I set the dial to 96.7 and fell asleep to “Who’s Holding Donna Now” by DeBarge.
Chapter Fifteen
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
11:38 p.m.
New York City
So what are you really doing in Atlanta?” Daddy took a sip of his Dalmore 62 whiskey. He owned one of the twelve bottles of the sixty-two-year-old aged whiskey that was released from the distillery from Scotland in 2012.
“How much did you pay for that bottle again?” I asked, attempting to change the subject.
“Two hundred grand.”
I shook my head.
“Hey, I can’t take billions of dollars with me, you’re my only child, and you’re filthy rich yourself.”
“I’m not a billionaire.” I stressed the last word.
“Close to it, and besides, you will be once I kick the bucket.” He held his glass up like he was doing a toast. “That’s a guarantee.”
“There’s no amount of money that could ever replace you, Daddy.”
“And I know you mean that. Ditto.”
He glanced around my penthouse apartment on Park Avenue. I had put it on the market for $18 million. It would take a while for anyone to come along who could afford it—likely another celebrity. But they had to be approved by the board of the building as well. It was sometimes shocking when celebrities were denied by a group of stuck-up floozies and pedigreed old-money folks. Like who really gave a fuck about them?
“That’s why I’m concerned about you. So what are you doing in Atlanta? Really?”
I sighed. “Daddy, I came back here to celebrate your birthday with you.”
“My birthday’s the day after tomorrow.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate early.”
I kicked off my black heels and put my feet up underneath me on the sofa. We had gone to a premiere of Lawless with Tom Hardy’s fine ass in it. If I’d had it in me to actually let a man blow my back out, he would have been tied with Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson to rip my panties clear off my ass. God bless both of their sets of parents.
“Did you enjoy the movie? It was good to see so many of your old friends at the premiere. That red carpet was bananas.”
“Isn’t it always?” He took a puff of his Cohiba Behike cigar, something else ridiculously expensive. Only one hundred humidors were ever made, with forty rolls each in them. A single cigar was worth four to five grand. “You keep thinking that you can change the subject, but that’s not going to work. You know me better than that.”
Daddy owned several properties in New York City, but he’d decided to chill with me at my place so we could spend a lot of quality time together. I hadn’t been there in months and wanted to be in my own space.