Page 50 of Rockstar Daddy's Second Chance

When Cass turns around, Cassidy already has her phone out and is watching the video. “Oh, my gosh! Dad! That guy tried to hit you!”

Cass grimaces. “Cassidy, the guy was inebriated. His swing didn’t even come close.”

“But still. Why didn’t you call the cops and have him arrested?” she says, showing her indignation.

Cass lets out a deep breath, clearly trying to find the right words for Cassidy, who looks horrified and outraged by the video.

“Because if I had every person arrested who tried to pick a fight with me,” he says, “I’d be spending more time in court than on stage. People get riled up sometimes, especially when they’ve had too much to drink. You learn to let it go.”

Cassidy frowns, still staring at her phone. “But, Dad, that’s not fair! He was totally out of line, and you didn’t do anything wrong. You were just being nice to his girlfriend. Why do people act that way?”

Cass places a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile. “Unfortunately, not everyone’s going to be kind or rational, sweetheart. And sometimes, when you’re in the public eye, people look for any reason to tear you down.” He pauses, searching her face for understanding. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being me. Or stop being there for you and your mom.”

Cassidy glances between us, her expression easing as worry gives way to understanding. “So… you’re not upset about what he said? About his comments–his insults?”

Cass chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Nope. In fact, I take the family man part as a compliment, so I must be doing something right. Besides, that is not the worst thing he said about me. Calling me a has-been was way worse. But who cares what someone like him thinks?”

Her face relaxes, a small smile breaking through. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

I step closer, reaching for Cass’s hand, feeling a surge of admiration for his strength and resilience. He’s dealt with the pressures and dark sides of fame since the beginning, but now, standing beside him, I see how he’s made peace with it and learned to protect what matters.

Cass gives my hand a firm reassuring squeeze, then looks back at Cassidy. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get to that sound studio. We’ve got music to make.”

Cassidy grins, her excitement overpowering any lingering frustration. She slips her phone back into her bag, her eyes lighting up again as she remembers what the day has in store.

As we head out of the hotel room and down to the lobby, Cass keeps his arm draped around my shoulders. It’s a simple, protective gesture, but it makes me feel safe and supported. This is the side of him the tabloids miss—the deeply caring man I’m lucky enough to know.

Twenty-Four

Cass

As we enter the sound studio, the hum of high-end equipment fills the room, rich acoustics bouncing off the walls. The band and I rehearse and then run quickly through a few takes. After just an hour, the sound man nods. “That’s a wrap for now. I got the short track I needed.”

We wave our goodbyes, and the rest of the band leaves, everyone but Sam. He stays behind.

Cassidy looks over, her enthusiasm contagious. “Dad, what about the song you started on the fishing boat? Can we start with that?”

Glancing at Cassidy, I can tell she’s a little nervous.

“Sure. It’s not ready, but I don’t mind if we play around with it. If you and your mom are game.” I look over at Kendrick, standing on the sidelines.

“You just want to get a feel for how it’s coming together, right?” she asks, biting her lip.

“That’s right.” Leaning in, I ask in a low voice, “Why? We used to sing together all the time.”

Kendrick gives a self-conscious laugh. “Yes, but that was a long time ago. Thirteen years, to be exact.”

“Who’s counting?” I chuckle. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

I open my notebook and start the melody, with Cassidy quickly joining in on her guitar. I sing the chorus, and Kendrick’s unmistakable voice sings harmony. Our voices blend perfectly, just like in the past. By the second take, Kendrick finds her true voice. The sound of the music is filled with strength and rhythm as we harmonize together, our voices a seamless blend of shared notes and unspoken emotions.

As the notes fade away, there’s a stillness in the studio. My eyes meet Kendrick’s, and time seems to stand still. I try to hide the surge of emotions that singing with her again has stirred within me. I clear my throat. “Okay, I think that was good. Damn good.” Noticing Kendrick’s misty eyes, I lean over and gently kiss her forehead, sharing a smile.

Turning toward Cassidy, I gruffly ask. “Ready? Because you’re up next.”

Cassidy steps up to the mic, her face a mixture of nerves and determination. This isn’t just another recording; it feels like a turning point, something deeper. Kendrick stands beside me, her gaze shifting from Cassidy to me, a mix of pride and slight trepidation in her eyes. This day means a lot to our daughter, and we don’t want anything to tarnish this precious moment.

Cassidy glances over her shoulder at Sam, who gives her an encouraging nod from behind the glass. He’s set up everything just right, the mics calibrated, the instruments ready. “Are you ready, superstar?” I ask her, giving her a playful nudge.

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