Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(76)

Shirleen’s head popped up. “Sure you do. You just make ‘em with those little, baby sausages.”

“It’s an art opening you need vol au vents or shit like that,” Daisy said.

Shirleen turned back to me. “Ask ‘em if they have pigs in a blanket. They wanna make it fancy; they can wrap ‘em up in Pilsbury crescent roll dough rather than biscuit dough. Trust me, people full of champagne and pigs in a blanket’ll buy a lot of paintings.”

“How do you know?” Ava asked.

“Because I’d buy a painting if someone gave me a glass of champagne and a non-stop supply of pigs in a blanket, especially if it was wrapped up in that crescent dough. Have you tasted a Pilsbury crescent roll?”

Ava nodded and smiled. “Yeah, there was a day when I’d bake and eat a whole tray of crescent rolls all by myself.”

“Not hard to do,” Shirleen muttered with the voice of experience.

The gallery’s phone rang and I was so wrapped up in thoughts of Pilsbury crescent rolls, and wondering how hard it was to make them, I didn’t even think when the operator asked me if I’d accept the collect charges.

I just said, “Yes.”

“Sadie?” my father said in my ear.

My torso snapped up and my mind shut down.

He’d been calling for months, the gallery and my apartment. He had to call collect and I never accepted the charges. A few months ago, Ralphie received a call, put his hand over the mouthpiece and asked if he should accept but I’d shook my head “no”.

At the time Ralphie didn’t ask questions now, obviously, he knew.

“Sadie?” my father repeated.

Shirleen and Ava had come up with me. I felt their eyes on me as well as Daisy’s. I couldn’t do anything, my mind was still shut down.

“Sadie! Jesus! Are you there? I don’t have all f**king day.”

“Daddy,” I whispered.

I hated calling him “Daddy”. I always hated it but it was the only thing he allowed.

At my word, the room electrified.

Shirleen’s arm shot toward Daisy and I saw her fingers snap repeatedly but Daisy was already digging through her purse. I watched as she pulled out her cell.

“There’s talk,” my father said in my ear.

“Talk?” I repeated.

“Talk. We’ll get to that in a minute. Where have you been and why have you refused my calls?”

I blinked.

Was he nuts? Did I play my role that well that for twenty-nine years he actually thought I was the dutiful daughter? I’d always thought my father was smart (he even told me he was smart, he told me this loads) but it seemed apparent he was pretty f**king dumb.

Daisy jumped off the counter, phone to her ear and as she stepped away Ralphie and Roxie got close.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Visiting days, Sadie. Christ, I have things to go over with you. I’ve been here for months, there’s business to attend to, where the f**k have you been?”

“Working,” I replied, wheels had begun to turn in my head as I heard Daisy talking quietly on her cell.

“Working,” his voice was terse, angry and disbelieving. “Your father is in prison and you don’t…”

My back started to go straight and, as my eyes focused on Ralphie’s concerned face, my father’s voice kept on in my ear but I didn’t hear a word he said.

Something strange was happening in my chest. Something hard and hot was forming there and I realized it was anger.

In a flash, my mind reactivated, I lifted my chin and a New Ice Princess, one I’d never met before, one that had a whole different way of dealing with things, slid with a decisive snap into place.

“Excuse me,” I cut into my father talking, my voice dripping icicles.

“What?” he asked.

“I said excuse me. You were talking but I didn’t have any interest in what you were saying so I wanted you to stop speaking so I could ask you why you’re phoning. I have an opening in a few days and work to do.”

My father was silent.

“Hello?” I called.

“Sadie, now’s not the time to be funny,” he warned.

“I’m not being funny. I’m being perfectly serious. Now tell me, is there something you need or is this a social call?”

“Have you lost your mind?” my father exploded.

“No,” I replied shortly.

A brief pause then with soft menace, “It’s true. You’re f**king him.”

I blinked in confusion. “Pardon me?” I asked.

“Chavez. You’re f**king Hector Chavez.”

I wasn’t “f*cking” Hector but it was close enough for my body to start shaking.

How could he know?

Obviously word got round, even in prison.

New Ice Princess replied for me, “I can’t imagine why that would be any of your business.”

“You’re joking.”

“May I ask, father, why you’re phoning when you hear I’m f**king Hector and you didn’t phone when I’m sure you probably heard that Ricky Balducci beat me senseless, broke multiple bones and raped me?”

My father displayed a one track mind and his response made my heart squeeze painfully.