The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) (29 page)

“Oh, you meant it.”

His hand came down on the table with a loud
slap. “Grow up!  Two years of chasing after you was enough to
prove my point. Phone calls, letters. No, three years. As far as
I’m concerned, the day you turned twenty-one my debt to you was
paid.”

“Not once did you say you were sorry, Dad.
That’s all I wanted to hear.”

“I’m not going to apologize for one stupid
remark I made at a moment of great distress.”

“You can’t apologize because you can’t admit
you were wrong,” Miles said.

“You know what your problem is? An inability
to forgive. You get that from your mother.”

“You can’t forgive somebody who doesn’t ask
for it.”

His father made a rude noise. “Your mother
loved her high horse too.”

Miles shifted his weight to get up. “I was
stupid to think we could ever talk to each other.”

“She laid all the blame at
my
feet,
just like you’re doing,” his father continued. “Well, it takes two
to tango, my friend. Not one person on God’s green earth is
perfect, not even you.”

Miles pointed at the door. “I’ll just go back
to my little love nest now. Heather and I wanted to get in another
quickie before you tracked us down.”

“She’d like that,” his father said
roughly.

Miles stood directly in front of him and met
his eyes. “I never touched her. Not then, not now. Not ever.”

“This isn’t about you, son.”

Miles jabbed a finger toward the door. “You
just barged into my cabin looking for her. You assumed she’d be
with me because you never believed what I told you—”

“I assumed Heather was with you because she’s
pissed at me, you idiot!”

After a pause, Miles asked softly, “And you
thought I was with her for the same reason?” All these years, his
father still didn’t know him. “I would never do that. Even if I
liked her. Even if I hated you. Which I don’t.”

His father stared at him before dropping his
gaze to his hands. He twisted the thick gold wedding band between
his fingers, his face as intense as if he were defusing a bomb.
“She caught me,” he said finally.

“With another woman?”

“You’d think so, from the way she reacted.
But I haven’t cheated since, well, your mother. No, she caught me
on the computer.” When Miles continued to look blank, Alan
grimaced. “Porn. Don’t tell me you don’t like to look at naked
girls. You can’t be that perfect.”

Miles bit his lip. “No. Not that
perfect.”

“Hmph. Funny thing is, I was just curious.
Only peeked around a bit. Got too much time on my hands since I
retired. I’m not a young man anymore, with my… you know.” He
slapped his thighs. “Certainly not young enough to know how to
cover my tracks. I’m an intelligent man, but technology, well, it’s
beyond me. Unfortunately, Heather’s a different generation. A whiz
on the computer. Somehow she saw that I’d been to a few websites,
and ever since then I’ve been tied up in the doghouse while she
keeps taking young pups for walks right in front of me. I’m chained
up well enough. Don’t even have much of a bark anymore. Just have
to wait until she gets it out of her system.”

“Let her get it out of her
what
?”

“She caught me. I was looking at other women.
What else can I do?”

Miles shook his head, amazed. “What do you
mean? You know how to get divorced. You do it all the time.”

His father’s sad, tired eyes met his. “She’ll
get tired of torturing me eventually.”

Miles ran his hand through the hair. He never
thought he'd see his father so…
defeated.
“You’ve really met
your match with this one, Dad.” He thought of Patty, his favorite
stepmother. His mother. The other wives. None of them could have
looked at another man without finding themselves in divorce court.
“You finally married a woman who was more ruthless than you
are.”

“Oh, she’s much worse.”

“You’re really going to just wait for her to
get tired of sleeping around?”

“She’s already getting bored with it. I’m
starting to think it’s all for show. Like hinting she would be with
you,” his father said. “She wouldn’t really do it.”

His confidence worried Miles more than his
dejection. “She would, Dad. You need to know that she would.”

“You haven’t seen her since you were a kid.
You really don’t know her at all.”

Miles sighed heavily. What else was he
refusing to see about his wife? What other men, what other lies had
there been? “I need to tell you exactly what happened. What she did
back then. I tried to tell you but you wouldn’t listen.”

“Whatever she did is between the two of
you.”

“She claims she doesn’t even remember what
happened.”

His father nodded as if he believed it, which
infuriated him. “She doesn’t
remember
sticking her hand down
my pants,” Miles said. “At my high school graduation. Then at my
freshman dorm. I don’t care if she doesn’t remember it, I sure the
fuck do. It ruined my—”

Miles stopped himself and looked away,
realizing what he’d been about to say. And it wasn’t true. His life
was good. He’d been free to pursue what made him happy.

But it had cost him all the years away from
his father. Which, he had to admit, had been his choice.

Now, though…

His father watched him intently. “She wasn’t
in AA then. Now she is.”

He wasn’t denying what she did. Just making
excuses for it. “So she’s an alcoholic? That makes it all
right?”

“She’s been sober for twelve years. Before
that she had a few missteps, but she kept trying. She’s had to make
amends to quite a few people.” Alan slid off the table and grabbed
Miles’s shoulders. “If she said she doesn’t remember it you have to
believe her. I hope you can talk to her about it again. Both of you
need to give it a rest.”

“You make it sound… ” Miles trailed off. Like
it had nothing to do with him.

“I didn’t believe you at first. Yeah, I admit
it. She was so beautiful, why wouldn’t you want her? I was too
jealous to see you were my spitting image. I should’ve been
flattered.” He sighed. “And I figured you were angry about your
mother. Patricia, I mean, like your brother. Chas hated Heather
too, though time healed that one. A little, anyway.”

Miles pulled away from him. “I need to
think.”

“To hell with thinking,” his father said,
slapping his back. “Let’s get a drink and you can tell me all about
this youth foundation I keep hearing about. I’m buying.”

“The Sterlings are buying.”

Alan gave him a wicked smile that took thirty
years off his face. “Even better.”

* * *

“Miles?” Lucy rapped on the door again. It
was almost ten. Where was he?

She pinched the elastic of her underwear to
pull it back over her butt cheeks. The one time she wore the
uncomfortable kind, the kind that looked good but felt like a
sequined hair scrunchie, and she ended up wearing it for hours.

Where was he? She pressed her ear to the
door. Nothing.

Fighting her growing embarrassment, she
turned and went back down the steps.

Something with Huntley must have come up. The
wedding rehearsal was tomorrow, and the wedding first thing
Saturday morning. Maybe the guys jumped the gun on a bachelor
party.

But wouldn’t Miles have called her? Sent a
message? They’d parted with kisses and giddy groping. They hadn’t
set an exact time, but it was understood they both wanted more.

Dread pooled in her stomach. Was this just
her overactive libido talking? Maybe five times was enough to tide
him over until—

Until next week. When they both went
home.

No, no. That wasn’t it. There hadn’t been any
hint of goodbye when he kissed her over his motorcycle. And they’d
specifically discussed how nice it was that he had private
cabin.

She marched up the path. She couldn’t go sit
around in her own cabin waiting for him. She could go get a drink,
maybe. And something to eat.

She pivoted and headed for the Snowy Egret. A
half-dozen people were mulling about the resort, most in pairs.
Still older people. More of Huntley’s socialite pals had arrived,
flooding the Soul of Muir with the Soul of Moolah. Maybe Miles had
been roped into meeting them.

Roped
. That was a fun image. Like
Gulliver. He was such a sport, she knew he’d be up for
anything…

Except right now, apparently.

Damn it.

She paused at the door of the Snowy Egret,
looking in, and let out a long sigh of relief to see him sitting at
the bar with his father.

The two large men mirrored each other. Both
had their elbows on the bar and faced each other, foreheads nearly
touching, and after a moment Miles reached out and patted his
father on the cheek.

Lucy let go of the door handle.

That was great for Miles. She was glad.
Hungry and lonely, but glad.

She went back to her cabin, telling herself
how happy she was for him. Hadn’t she liked him precisely because
he didn’t put any demands on her? Well, it cut both ways. She
didn’t own him either.

The calculator in her brain reminded her how
few hours she had left with him before they went home. How she’d
just lost a third of that time because he’d chosen to reconcile
with his father instead of getting naked with her.

She told the calculator to shut up.

Friday morning Lucy had breakfast early.
Still no sign of Miles. Fawn had dropped the pretense of spending
her nights away from Huntley, so Lucy had the cabin to herself
now.

What a waste.

After Krista’s tirade, and the fruitlessness
of donning a sequined hair scrunchie on her private parts, she’d
felt a little unpopular and had slept badly. Every bump in the
night sounded like Miles at the door. None was.

Eating her white breakfast alone didn’t help,
and as soon as she’d taken the last bite of her egg white omelet,
she marched to Miles’s cabin.

They only had today and tomorrow. Sunday
morning at ten, a Sterling limo would take her home. Nothing in her
plans allowed for continuing strings-free sex after that. As soon
as she walked into her apartment and did her laundry and cooking
for the work week ahead, reality would come crashing back. She was
alone and single and getting older than she’d ever thought she’d be
without a mate, kids, the whole bit. She could ignore that hard
truth while surrounded by cedar and egrets, but not forever.

She had to enjoy her time with him here and
now.

Miles’s scruffy broad face appeared in the
crack in the cabin door. “Lucy. Oh, shit.”

Hardly the welcome she’d been looking for.
“I’m sorry to wake you. Thing is, we don’t have much time
left.”

He squinted at her. “Time? What time is it?”
He rubbed his face with both hands.

“It’s only nine. But it’s Friday.” She heard
the whiff of desperation in her voice. “Never mind. Maybe I’ll see
you later.”

He leaned forward and grabbed her arm as she
took a step down. “Hold on! Just give me a minute.”

“It’s okay. I’m going for a walk. Find me
when you’re up.” She glanced down at his boxers. “Awake.”

“Oh, God. Last night. I fucked up. My dad and
I—”

“It’s okay. I saw you at the bar.”

“But I should have told you. I never meant
for it to go on as long as it did. Then when we finally got out of
there, I was in no condition to—”

“No problem. Really.”

“But you must have come here looking for me.
How long did you wait? I hate to think of you knocking on the door
and me not answering—”

“Actually, I didn’t even make it this far. I
saw you at the restaurant and figured we’d have to reschedule.” She
felt her face get warm. She couldn’t stand the idea of him feeling
sorry for her because she’d wanted to have sex with him and he
hadn’t bothered to show up. “Did you have a good talk with your
father?”

“Light on substance, but it was good. Lots of
scotch and sports talk.”

“Male bonding.”

“Exactly.” He rubbed his eyes again. “Where
are you headed? I’ll catch up.”

“Thought I’d hike out to the ocean.”

“I’ll catch up.” Then he flinched. “Oh, damn.
No, I can’t. I promised my father I’d have breakfast with
Heather.”

It was already nine. Breakfast would probably
tie up the rest of his morning. Why did that fill her with
panic?

She didn’t cope well without structure. She
knew this about herself. They just needed plans, however
short-term. “Lunch?”

His face fell again. “Can’t. Promised to eat
with Huntley’s parents.” His lip quirked. “Unless you’d like to
join us… ”

“Do I get to tell them off?”

“Fine with me.”

She swallowed tightly, feeling rejected,
which was silly. “Tempting, but no. Maybe this afternoon.”

“Definitely. Except—I might have to spend
some time planning Huntley’s bachelor party. I can’t put it off any
longer.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Shit, the wedding’s
tomorrow.”

“If you’re having a bachelor party tonight,
you won’t be able to commit to anything later, either. I wouldn’t
want—” She cut herself off.
Wouldn’t want to wait up all night
for you again
. “Well, I imagine we’ll both be at the rehearsal
tonight.”

He reached out and touched her cheek with the
backs of his fingers. “Not quite what I had in mind.”

After a pat, she moved his hand away. “Can’t
be helped. Good luck with that breakfast. It’s great you’re working
through these family issues.”

“Thank you. But maybe—”

“Sure. See you around.” Forcing a smile, she
gestured up the path. “You know where I live.”

But only for the next forty-nine hours.

* * *

As she walked past her cabin on the way to
the West Trail, Lucy ran into Alex.