Tommy lee-dad

The sun shone brightly outside the enormous white mansion on the cliffs, but inside, the real heat came from Maddy Lee: seventeen years old, spoiled to the core and very aware of being the center of Tommy Lee's chaotic rock star universe.

She was reclining on the velvet sofa in the living room, flipping through a fashion magazine, with her legs resting on an armrest.

Upstairs, the workmen were still trying to finish the renovation of her room, the third one this year. Rand Gauthier, his face flushed and exhausted, dragged himself under the floorboards while Troy Lonnie silently cursed every decision that had led him to work for a rich, capricious teenager.

Suddenly, the front door burst open.

Tommy Lee swaggered in like a whirlwind: shirtless, as always, with leopard-print trousers sagging at his hips, a cigarette in one hand and a Fred Segal bag in the other.

"Where's my girl?" "She called him!"

"Right here, Daddy!" exclaimed Maddy, jumping up from the sofa.

Tommy smiled and handed her the shopping bag as if it were sacred. "I found the bag you said you wanted. The blue one with spikes."

Maddy flung it open, squealing. "Oh my God, Daddy! Did you really find it?"

—Some guy flew her in from New York. Easy peasy!

She hugged him. "You're the best."

Rand came downstairs in the middle of that father-daughter moment. “Hey, Tommy, listen… your daughter’s changed the layout again. Now she wants a spiral staircase inside the closet. I can’t keep paying for this. My card…” Tommy held up his hand. “Relax, man. If my girl wants a spiral staircase in her closet, she’s going to get it.”

—But she's seventeen! This is madness!

"She's my seventeen-year-old daughter," Tommy said, smiling and putting an arm around Maddy's shoulders. "Do you have a problem with that?"