by Robyn Carr
“Who is it?” Simon asked when she set her phone back on the carpet.
Curling into him, she kissed his bare shoulder. “Josh.”
“What do you think he wants?”
“To update me on how things are going.”
“On Sunday?”
“He’s a workaholic, like me. And he’s probably dying to hear what’s happening with us.”
It was getting dark outside. Gail almost couldn’t believe they’d spent the whole weekend indulging in hedonistic behavior. But she’d already crossed all the lines she’d intended not to cross. At this point, there was no reason not to enjoy Simon while she could.
“It’s peaceful here, don’t you think?” She’d been careful not to mention his father, but the knowledge that Tex was staying at A Room with a View and had been there for two days made her uneasy. She guessed Simon felt the same, probably worse, and wondered what he planned to do about his father’s ultimatum.
Maybe she’d lose Simon much sooner than she’d expected to....
“It’s been perfect.” He kissed her, and his tongue met hers briefly. “You don’t regret what we’ve done, do you?”
He’d spoken casually, but she sensed that her answer mattered.
“What’s to regret? It was about time I got laid, right?” She chuckled as if it meant nothing more than that, and he didn’t follow up.
“Who were the other two?” he asked at length.
She ran a hand over the contours of his flat stomach. “The other two?”
“You said you’ve slept with two other guys.”
Rising up on one elbow, she gave him a challenging look, but she was teasing and she could tell he knew that. “Do you really want to talk about past lovers?”
He surprised her by remaining serious. “Only because I’m guessing they meant something to you.”
The air mattress shifted as she rearranged the blankets, which were twisted around their feet. “Hardly.”
“What does that mean?”
“The first was more of a date-rape situation. He didn’t like me saying no, felt I owed him more than a good-night kiss in exchange for dinner.”
His eyebrows knitted as he helped her untangle the blankets. She liked him with his hair mussed and his jaw darkening with beard growth. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look sexier, even in the movies. “I hope you turned him in.”
“I wish I had. At the time I felt that maybe I’d invited it by acting interested in him. I was so excited when he finally asked me out. Now that I’m older, I have no idea why I let him get away with what he did. But I was twenty-five and inexperienced. And I thought maybe I was weird for not wanting to have sex with him on the first date. He was really handsome, someone most girls would desire.”
“Where is he now?”
“Who knows? I met him at a dance place some of my employees dragged me to. We didn’t have any contact after that.”
“And the other guy?”
“That was a much better experience. He was quite a bit older than me, very kind—a college professor complete with the tweed jackets.” She smiled in memory of Skylar Henshaw’s conservative wardrobe. “I liked his calm, trustworthy manner. We were together for several months.”
“Why’d you break up?”
“He decided to get back with his ex-wife. She was a lovely woman, and they had children together. I never could understand why they split.”
His hand slid over the curve of her waist and down around her hip in a gentle caress. “Was it because of you?”
“No, I met him at a Starbucks after his divorce. He offered me his table because it was too crowded for me to use my laptop any other way.”
“How romantic,” he said dryly.
She smiled. “He was nice, like I said.”
He kissed her neck, her ear. “Did he leave you brokenhearted, Gail?”
She closed her eyes. “Not really. I was ready to tell him I wanted to move on. I figured it was lucky he’d come to the same decision. Our relationship was...comfortable but not passionate. I liked that he didn’t demand more from me than I was willing to give. I was building my business and didn’t have a lot of time or energy for anything else. He took care of my creature comforts.”
Simon raised his head. “Sounds more like a father figure.”
“I guess he was. But we both understood that.”
“And then there was Matt.”
Gail stretched. “I didn’t sleep with Matt, remember?”
“You wanted to.”
She didn’t correct him.
“Will you in the future?”
“Maybe.” She glanced away so he couldn’t tell how troubling she found that question. He’d spoken as if it wouldn’t matter to him if she did.
“Why haven’t you slept with anyone from Whiskey Creek?” he asked.
“I almost slept with Ted in high school.”
“Your friend? The author?”
“That would be him.”
“What happened?”
“His mother caught us getting naked and told her sister, who’s the biggest gossip in town. The rumors going around afterward were enough to keep me on the straight and narrow. I couldn’t bear the thought of news like that getting back to my father. My mother had already disappointed him. I didn’t want to be next.”
He ran his finger along her jawline. “What did your mother do?”
Oh, God, this, too? Gail almost said she didn’t want to talk about Linda, but she supposed she might as well get it out of the way. “She left us for an old boyfriend from high school.”
“Us?”
“There was no question that Joe and I might go with her. She packed up and disappeared while we were at school. We heard from her periodically that first year, but...she’s the type who shies away from conflict whenever she can, and I think she hated having to speak to my father, to be reminded of what she’d done. So, once she remarried, the calls became more and more infrequent. Soon, it was just too awkward to talk at all, even at Christmas. Especially at Christmas.”
“It must’ve been tough to lose your mother that way.”
Probably not as tough as it’d been for him to lose his mother. At least she’d had her father. Besides, the last thing she wanted from Simon O’Neal was sympathy. “I’ve always had the love I need. The hard part was feeling I had to make up for what she did, to prove to my father that not all women are the same.”
He rolled onto his back. “That’s a lot of pressure. Must’ve been a relief to go to college.” He paused. “You went to college, right?”
“I did. Stanford.”
He whistled. “I’m impressed.”
She adjusted the pillow so she could look into his face, but thanks to the setting sun and the fact that they hadn’t yet turned on any lights, it was harder and harder to see. “What about you?”
“I was too busy rebelling to go to college.”
That didn’t surprise her. “Did you attend acting school?”
“Who needs acting school when you have a father as famous as mine?”
She heard the bitter edge to his voice. “The connection must have provided a few key contacts, but...the way I’ve heard it, the two of you have never gotten along.” That was certainly how it had appeared when Tex showed up at the house. “I can’t imagine he bent over backward to lend you a hand.”
“We’ve always had a love-hate relationship. There were times when I was a kid that I desperately wanted to win his love. But too many other things stood in the way. He hated my mother with a passion, even though what happened was as much his fault.”
“Why would he blame her? That hardly seems fair.”
“He wanted her to terminate the pregnancy. When she refused, it made his marria
ge even more difficult than it already was. Then her family found out, and the rest of the world. He hates looking bad, wants everyone to admire him. But because of me he couldn’t escape the consequences of his actions. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’ve been times when he’s decided to be the father he never was, but...he can’t sustain it.”
“I remember seeing both of you from a distance at the premiere of Now or Never.”
“That was shortly after I married Bella.” It was also several years before he’d hired Gail. “He wanted to be part of Ty’s life, so he was busy trying to be a good grandfather.”
“What changed that?”
A muscle twitched in Simon’s jaw. “He couldn’t maintain that, either. If there’s anything consistent about Tex O’Neal, it’s inconsistency.”
That didn’t really answer her question. It certainly gave her no details, no specifics. But she didn’t push it. He was still talking but he’d gone back to the subject of his career and his father’s response to his getting into acting.
“I believe that at one point he tried to limit my options, but it was too late to do the kind of damage he could’ve inflicted earlier on. He hates growing old, being counted out. Feels like I’ve stolen everything he used to have. So he’s done what he can to take what’s mine.”
“What does that mean?”
He grew pensive. “Never mind. He’s just...not your typical father. Or grandfather.”
“You’ve climbed higher than he ever did. That probably bothers him. And Ty’s an extension of you.”
“Maybe, but...his name carried enough weight to open certain doors. I owe it to his career that mine ever got a start.”
“Those doors would’ve been slammed in your face if you didn’t have the looks and talent to become who you are,” she pointed out. “You should be proud of yourself.”
“Proud of myself,” he repeated with a self-deprecating chuckle. He didn’t say so, but she got the impression he didn’t hear that line very often.
“Yes, you’ve accomplished a great deal.”
“I got lucky. It worked out.”
In Gail’s opinion, he was a little too quick to dismiss his success. He certainly wasn’t as conceited as some people accused him of being. Even she’d accused him of that. But then... Simon had been accused of almost everything at one time or another. She’d come to believe there was a lot of misconception about him.
“I think most people in America would find that an understatement.” She bent her head to rub her lips against the soft skin of his chest. “If only it could work out so well for all the starving actors in L.A.”
He didn’t comment. He toyed with her hair, which fell down around him. “You must’ve had plenty of chances to experiment with boys in college.”
“We’re back to my sex life? Jeez, you have a one-track mind.” She touched his face, kissed him. She loved being so familiar with him.
“I’m just trying to understand what your life’s been like,” he said, easily rolling her beneath him.
She stared up into his eyes. “By your standards, it’s been boring, okay? You would’ve jiggled your knee all through it.”
“Jiggled my knee?”
“That’s what you do when you’re bored, or anxious. Anyway, I didn’t sleep around in college because I’d been trained to be cautious, and I was too busy with my schoolwork to socialize. I had to get straight A’s so I could feel good about sending my report cards home to Daddy.” She would’ve shrugged, except his weight pressing her into the mattress made that impossible. Her tone implied it instead. “Or maybe it was just that I didn’t meet the right guy. I was kind of shy, and I’ve always been self-conscious about my red hair.”
She was surprised she didn’t mind mentioning that to him, although it was something she generally kept to herself. She supposed it was because she didn’t have any hopes or expectations where Simon was concerned. Since she’d had to count him out from the beginning, there was no point in pretending not to have the insecurities that were as much a part of her as her desire for discipline and order. Considering who Simon was and the type of women he usually surrounded himself with, her shortcomings would be very obvious, anyway.
Supporting the bulk of his own weight with one hip and shoulder, he twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. “I like the color of your hair.”
“Sure you do.” She managed to push him the rest of the way off. “But for your information, I wasn’t trying to solicit a compliment. Besides, you don’t have any choice at the moment except to make do. I’m better than nothing, remember?”
He didn’t seem pleased to have his words thrown back at him. “I was dying for a drink that day. And I was still angry over the rape accusation. I didn’t mean what I said.”
She kicked off the blankets that covered her feet. “Of course you did. But that’s okay. I am what I am.” With a smile to let him know she really didn’t care if he found her lacking, she rolled off the mattress and onto the carpet. “Why don’t we get dressed and head down to Just Like Mom’s. I think it’s time for a proper meal.”
“Gail...”
He sounded too serious. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say. She could only handle what was happening between them if she kept things light and didn’t expect too much. “Come on.” Resisting the urge to cover her nudity, she got to her feet. “Enough being lazy.”
“I really didn’t mean it,” he said, but she was already on her way to the bathroom and pretended not to hear.
Twenty-Four
Just Like Mom’s had purple walls, white ruffled curtains and half a dozen high chairs lined up at the entrance. The booths around the perimeter of the main dining area were done in lavender vinyl; the country-style oak tables in the middle of the floor had chairs sporting cushions with big bows that could only have been hand-sewn. Simon had never seen a restaurant that reminded him more of his grandmother’s house. Not that he’d been able to spend much time there. Grandma Moffitt had been too upset about the circumstances of his birth to ever fully forgive his mother, and him by extension. She preferred her other grandkids, who were girls. But he’d always secretly liked the homey comfort of her rambler in Palm Springs.
“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Gail murmured over the bell that jingled when they walked in.
The place wasn’t crowded, but it was doing a brisk business for eight o’clock on a Sunday night. “Pot roast,” he said.
“Mildred Davies makes the best meat loaf and beef stew imaginable. I’m sure the pot roast isn’t bad, either.”
Through the two-foot opening where the food came out, he saw a short, round woman with a cap of snow-white hair directing traffic in the kitchen. “That’s the cook? Mildred Davies?”
“Cook and owner,” Gail said. “As you can tell, she’s getting on in years but she manages to keep up. After dinner you’ll have to try her carrot cake. Delicious.”
“Maybe I’ll start with it.” Somehow, he felt younger, more innocent and certainly more content than the man he’d been in L.A. Either the paparazzi couldn’t find him or they’d been unwilling to make such a long drive on the off chance of picking up a detail or two about his private life. He hadn’t heard from Bella for twenty-four hours. He had less craving for alcohol than at any previous point since giving it up. And, best of all, for the first time since the event that had caused him to unravel, he was gaining confidence that he’d be able to do what was necessary to get Ty back.
It wasn’t until he thought of his father’s visit yesterday morning, and the possibility of running into Tex in Whiskey Creek, that some of the old anger and uneasiness returned. His father seemed to appear every time Simon began to get on his feet.
But he wasn’t going to let Tex provoke him. Tex could sue if he wanted. Simon would gladly pay restitution for any financial loss he caus
ed the producers of Hellion, but he wouldn’t allow his father to ruin his life yet again. He wasn’t ready to jump back into the world that had nearly driven him crazy. Ty was the prize. Ty—not another movie or another fifty million dollars.
Once he was granted custody, even if it was only partial, maybe he’d bring Ty to Whiskey Creek. They could spend their summers here enjoying Gail’s friendship, whenever she came home, and maybe the friendships of some of the people he’d met at the coffee shop. He and Ty could forget the opulence and excesses associated with his career, they could play baseball, eat at this tacky but homey restaurant, check out the old-fashioned soda fountain down the street, hike in the mountains....
Simon wanted to take Gail’s hand, to communicate his gratitude for all she’d done. Despite his initial skepticism, her involvement in his life had made a huge difference. But ever since they’d left the house, she’d been careful not to so much as brush against him, which felt odd, considering. At first, he thought he was only imagining the change. But the more minutes that went by without physical contact, the more convinced he became that she was doing it on purpose. She was determined not to expect him to act like a boyfriend.
He appreciated that she wasn’t suddenly clingy. Their current arrangement was what he’d asked for from the start. Now he had what he wanted, and yet her withdrawal bothered him. In his opinion, she was being too vigilant about making sure there was no emotional spillover. Why couldn’t they just relax and do and say as they pleased for the time being?
He was about to broach the subject. He wasn’t ready for Gail to raise her defenses again. It’d been too long since he’d felt close to anyone, and he wasn’t willing to lose it so soon.
But the hostess, a middle-aged woman who wore a purple uniform with a tag that said Tilly, approached before he could bring it up. Her mouth formed an O the minute she recognized him, but she cleared her throat and addressed Gail. “Two for dinner?” she said in a gravelly smoker’s voice.