Daddy’s Fiery Little by Scott Wylder

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

Micah

I can tell she’s a little nervous. “You’re going to be great,” I say.

“I’m not worried about that,” she replies, turning to look directly at me. God, her eyes are perfect. They’re a vibrant green I could get lost in. “I’m just worried that everyone loves Rollie’s style so much they won’t like mine.” She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter how great the steak is if I’m singing to vegetarians.”

I smile at her analogy and I point to where Carl and Leo stand at the end of the bar. “Those two would never have hired you if they didn’t know you were right for this crowd,” I say. “They’re going to think you’re incredible.”

“But what if they don’t?”

I shrug and say, “Well, then, I guess I’ll have to spank you until you get it right.”

Where the hell did that come from?”

Thankfully, I haven’t offended her. She says, “I’d like to see you try.” and looks at the stage.

God, what I wouldn’t give for her to actually want me to try!

I say, “Vanessa, look at me.”

She turns and looks at me and it almost seems like she’s holding her breath. “You got this,” I say. “I know Carl. I know Leo. If they think you’re right for this place, it’s a done deal. It’s just a fact. You’re going to be wonderful. Do you understand?”

She stares at me for a moment and then the corners of her mouth curl up into a smile. “Thank you, Micah,” she says.

On stage, Rollie says, “So while I’m gone, I have a very special girl to sing for me. I know you’re all gonna love her just as much as I do. So, let’s give her a really big welcome, okay?”

The crowd applauds and I watch Vanessa take a deep breath and walk up to the stage. She embraces Rollie and then takes the microphone. Titus Canton, who must be about sixty-three now, sits at the upright piano. She steps over to him and reaches out with one perfect little hand to caress his cheek. “Will you play for me?” she asks.

Her voice…

There’s something about it, and the entire club grows silent.

The piano starts softly, and she turns to look at the audience. Her eyes seem even deeper green now and the air seems thick as she sings,

“You made me love you. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to do it. You made me want to, and all the time you knew it. I guess you always knew it.”

Dear God.

Dear God in Heaven above.

Her voice is the voice of a goddess. I can feel it on my skin, vibrating from deep within her. I glance around the room, and I can see everyone in the club is entranced. This is a classic song, part of the great American songbook, but she makes it something impossible, something new and smoldering. I feel as though she sings to me, and I imagine everyone in the club feels the same way.

She wears a slinky black dress that looks almost like it’s painted on her, and as she leans against the piano and sings, I can’t even begin to understand how a human being could possess that voice, how words could somehow gain power and meaning simply because they escape her lips. I feel like laughing, shouting, crying, and moaning all at once, and it’s her voice that does that to me.

I’m not wrong.

She’s got this.

She’s absolutely stunning, breathtaking in all conceivable ways. I listen and I feel lost in what she sings. Hell, I’ve heard this song by a dozen artists, I imagine. It’s at every piano bar in the world, I guess. Nothing can compare to her singing it. It’s a good thing everyone else is similarly entranced because I have no idea if I’d be able to actually tend bar if someone wanted a drink.

She finishes her song and there’s dead silence. I hear one woman crying softly and then the audience erupts in applause, most of them standing to their feet. One of the waitresses—I think her name is Patti—comes up to the bar with a drink order. She looks at me and lets out a whistle.

“Man,” she says, “Can you believe that?”

I smile at her and reply, “No possible way but I heard it with my own ears.”

“I love Rollie but this… man.”

I look on stage. Vanessa seems surprised at the response, and she leans down and gives Titus a kiss on the cheek. At that moment I would give everything I have to be a piano player in my sixties. She whispers something in his ear and the next song begins.

It’s just as sultry and incredible but at least now that I’ve gotten past the shock of her, I can function a little bit. I make the drinks for Patti, and Mike at the bar is making drinks, too. I wonder if the customers just couldn’t order during the song or if the servers just couldn’t move until after it was over. Either seems pretty plausible and either speaks to the power of that incredible girl up on stage.

Her set is remarkable, and by the time she’s ready for an hour break, everyone is still entranced by her. She’s absolutely amazing in every way, simply perfect. She makes her way to the back and I slide a drink her direction.

“What makes you think I drink wine?” she asks playfully.

“You do,” I say. “Red wine. Every now and then you’ll drink a white wine but only when you’re with a friend who pours it.”

She smiles her lovely smile and she says, “You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

I laugh and say, “I could spend a hundred years and I don’t think I’d figure you out. I was right about you killing it up there, though.”

She smiles, and her face lights up in a wonderfully beautiful way that somehow also seems dangerous, like something explosive lurks right beneath the surface of her incredible eyes. God, she thrills me. I remind myself that I barely know her, and she most certainly isn’t interested in a man like me when there are endless options for a girl like her.

And then Helen walks up to Leo and says, “I love you Daddy!” Leo gives her a kiss.

I notice Vanessa’s face when it happens, the longing that crosses her eyes and the way her breath catches for just a second.

She’s a little.

Or at least she wants to be a little girl.

My heart starts beating so quickly I pour myself a drink to steady myself. Then, to hide the fact that I’m about to do that, I pour another three, one for Leo and one for each of the girls. I call Leo and Helen over and pass out the drinks.

I lift up my glass and say, “To Vanessa!”

Leo and Helen repeat the toast and I down the shot. It calms me down a little bit but the sight of her as she smiles and stares at me after the toast just sends my heart racing all over again.

What if she really is a little girl?

That thought makes the image of her face linger in my mind long after the club has closed and long after I get back home.