Page 20 of Rockstar Daddy's Second Chance

Pixie raises an eyebrow, laughing like she can’t quite believe what she’s hearing. “You? Staying in? You fucking kidding me?” Her attention suddenly shifts from me to Kendrick, her expression mocking. “So, Derrick mentioned that you’re the new flavor of the month.”

Kendrick’s jaw tightens, but she keeps her expression neutral. For Cassidy’s sake, she doesn’t lash out, but I can see the storm clouds continuing to gather in her eyes, a tempest she’s barely holding back.

I step forward, giving Pixie a warning look that doesn’t faze her. “She’s here with her daughter,” I reply in a clipped voice. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your language in check around her.”

Pixie lets out a snort, rolling her eyes. “Please. The child’s old enough to hear a few words. Probably heard worse from my songs, anyway.”

Cassidy shifts uncomfortably, clutching her new guitar tighter. I feel a surge of protectiveness for her and Kendrick, who is holding herself stiffly. She’s clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation.

“Derrick,” I say tightly, “can you see Pixie out? This… isn’t the time.”

Pixie’s eyes flash with a mix of impatience and irritation, and she stands up with a huff, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when you get bored, Cass. Never known you not to be up for a little fun.”

She gives me one last look, her smile sharp and laced with defiance, before sweeping out the door with Derrick trailing behind her. As the elevator doors slide shut, the air feels heavier, like the remnants of her presence have seeped into every corner of the room. The silence she leaves behind is anything but empty—awkward, charged, and simmering with unspoken tension that refuses to fade.

Ten

Kendrick

I let out a slow, controlled breath, crossing my arms tighter. “Pixie Cane, the pop star? That’s who you’re spending time with these days?” I don’t try to hide the mockery in my voice.

Cass rubs the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “It’s… it’s not like that. Pixie and I, we’re nothing serious.”

“Didn’t look like nothing to me,” I mutter, my voice barely above a whisper. I wince as even I can’t miss the jealous disbelief that lingers beneath my words. Pixie’s presence feels like a stain I can’t scrub away—too loud, too flashy, too much of everything I’m not.

Not realizing the tension in the room, Cassidy looks up at Cass with wide eyes. “Dad, can I show Mom my new guitar?”

He turns to her, seeming grateful for the distraction. “Of course. Show her everything.”

Cassidy beams, her hands flying over the guitar’s polished surface as she explains every curve and feature, her voice high with excitement. Explaining in her own way why they chose it.

I try to listen, but my guarded gaze keeps repeatedly flickering to Cass.

When Cassidy finishes the grand tour of the guitar, her face glowing, she looks to me for approval. I manage a tight smile, giving her an encouraging nod.

“It’s… beautiful, Cassidy. But remember, it’s not about the quality or cost of the instrument; it’s about the music you can make with it.”

Cassidy nods, her expression serious. “I know, Mom. But now, my music will sound even richer when I play.”

Cassidy’s pure excitement should be enough to smooth things over, but I can’t seem to hide the shadow on my face as I watch Cassidy run her fingers over the guitar’s polished surface. I’m not quite as thrilled about Cass’s extravagant gift as our daughter is.

I avoid Cass’s searching gaze as he tries to catch my eye. I keep my eyes trained on Cassidy, masking my expression. But I know he can see there’s something wrong with my stance. I’m filled with a quiet tension that’s hard to ignore or hide—having tospend the last hour surrounded by Derrick’s suffocating hostility and Pixie Cane’s indifference.

And then there’s the new expensive Martin guitar. I try to shrug off the feeling of resentment as I remember how I scrimped and saved just to purchase Cassidy her special Christmas gift.

Meeting Cass’s eyes suddenly, his flash with a tinge of guilt. Maybe he’s realizing he might have overstepped buying her such a grand present.

“Mom,” Cassidy’s voice breaks through, “I can’t wait to start creating new songs now that I have this.”

My lips press into a faint smile. “That’s wonderful, honey. Why don’t you give me and your dad a few moments to talk.” I give Cassidy a gentle nudge, keeping my tone as soft as the look in my eyes, not wanting my daughter to sense the layer of steel beneath it.

Once Cassidy’s out of earshot, I glance at Cass, and the momentary warmth I displayed earlier disappears. I suddenly feel the weight of my unvoiced frustration as it hangs between us.

“Kendrick,” Cass begins, trying to bridge the distance, “if it was too much—“

I cut him off with, “Of course, it was too much!” At the look in his eyes, I shake my head. “Sorry Cass, it’s… look, I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but you don’t realize what that guitarmeant. I saved up a long time to buy Cassidy her first guitar, and now…” I trail off, swallowing my words as I don’t want Cass to see just how deeply this is affecting me.

He takes off his cap and runs a hand through his long hair, grappling for the right thing to say. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes, Kendrick. I just think she’s really talented. She deserves an equally great guitar.”

---