13
W
hen Simon woke up, he found Ian and Gail
sitting on either side of his bed, glaring at each other.
“Why all the hostility?” he muttered.
Gail came to her feet. “What hostility?”
Whatever they’d given him made him groggy, but even then he
could tell she was covering up. “You two act like you want to choke each
other.”
“So what’s new?” She laughed, and Ian did, too, but their eyes
were cold when they met and their smiles seemed brittle.
“Something. I can feel it.” He glanced between them. “I thought
we’d called a truce, that we were all playing on the same team again.”
“We are,” Gail told him. “Ask anyone—you and I are madly in
love and having wild sex at your Beverly Hills mansion. Everything is fine.
Right on track.”
Except that she was treating him like he’d lost his mind—was
probably wondering what kind of crazy man she’d gotten involved with.
Damn…
Somehow, despite all his good
intentions and effort, he’d screwed up again. “Wild sex, huh? That’s what they
think?”
“How do you feel?” Ian stood up, too.
Simon had never seen his business manager so serious. “Drugged.
What happened?”
“You don’t know?”
He lifted his right hand to examine the bandage that made his
arm look liked it ended in a club. “Nurses told me I cut my hand. They said it
wasn’t too bad, but they were somber as shit and it has to be more than a
scratch or I wouldn’t be here, right?”
Gail bumped up against the steel rail of his bed. “You don’t
recall the accident?”
He honestly didn’t. The last thing he remembered was getting a
text from Bella—a short video of her having sex with some guy and a note that
said,
Ty’s new
daddy.
“No, I was exhausted, completely out of it.” He realized how
that sounded and hurried to amend his words. “But I wasn’t drinking. At
least…I’m pretty sure I wasn’t drinking.” He’d considered it. Had he given
in?
“No, you weren’t drinking,” she said.
“There’s a bright spot.” He grinned, but when she didn’t
lighten up he stopped trying to charm her. “So…what? Are you backing out?
Cutting me loose?” Why wouldn’t she? He knew how this looked. He could tell by
some of the questions the doctor had asked that he hadn’t called for help when
he should have.
They wondered if he’d purposely hurt himself. And maybe he had.
He wouldn’t be stupid enough to attempt suicide by power saw, but subconsciously
he might’ve been sabotaging his own efforts to reform, or trying to save himself
from failing through lack of willpower. He’d always been his own worst enemy.
His father told him that all the time, even though it felt more like his father
was his worst enemy. Their relationship had never been a strong one, but
recently they’d become completely estranged.
He let his eyes slide closed. “You’re off the hook, if you
want.”
He expected her to jump at the chance, provided he agreed to a
stipulation that saved her business, but she surprised him.
“That’s not what I want.”
Opening his eyes, he found her and Ian watching him a little
too closely. He nearly assured them he was stable, that he could cope with
whatever he had to, but he’d been saying that for too long. His actions hadn’t
backed it up, so why bother? “Then, what is?”
She nibbled at her bottom lip. “I want to take you to Whiskey
Creek.”
Had he heard her correctly? “Isn’t that where your family
lives?” He didn’t bother hiding the skepticism in his voice.
“That’s right.”
“We already discussed it.”
“We did, but…” She folded her arms, which told him she was
anticipating a fight. “A few things have changed since then and…now I think it’s
imperative to the success of our marriage.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why? What difference does it make
whether or not I meet your family? Are you
trying
to
drive me to drink?”
He thought she could at least smile at his joke, give him
credit for the effort he was putting into pretending he was okay, but Ian piped
up before she could react.
“It’ll mean canceling everything you’ve got going for the next
three months.”
So Ian wasn’t excited about this change of plan.... Simon
rubbed the beard growth on his chin. “I’ll miss starting my next movie.”
“Yes.”
“That’s a long time to be in Whiskey Creek.”
Gail stood taller. “Given your injury and our wedding, you have
a good excuse, a believable excuse, to clear your schedule without losing face.
Take the out. It’ll only make our marriage look more genuine.”
He scowled at her. “How is Whiskey Creek going to do that?”
“It’ll suggest you care enough to spend time with me and my
family. And dropping out of public view will ultimately make it easier for you
to regain custody of Ty.”
The sex video Bella had sent and those taunting words—
Ty’s new daddy—
floated to the forefront of Simon’s
brain. The images turned his stomach. But it was the idea of the man who was
screwing his ex-wife replacing him as his son’s father that hurt, as Bella knew
it would. “You really believe it would make enough of a difference?”
“You couldn’t go wrong in Whiskey Creek even if you wanted
to.”
He could go wrong anywhere. He’d proven it. But…she seemed so
convinced and, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was starting to trust
her, certainly more than Ian. Ian had his strengths, but she was smarter, more
disciplined. Just what he needed at the moment. “What would I do there?”
“Anything you want. I saw the playhouse you’ve been building.
It’s amazing! You like working with wood. Why don’t we rent a house while you
build us a bigger one?”
Building a house with his own two hands had always appealed to
him. He felt a flutter of excitement, the first in a long, long while—but Simon
refused to succumb to it. He didn’t want to be disappointed. “Are you setting me
up?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your dad’s going to hate me.”
“He already does,” she said. “So does my brother. But you can
win them over. You can win anyone over.”
She was offering him a chance to be a regular person for a
while, a chance to step out of the limelight and catch his breath.
“This’ll cause damage to certain key relationships,” Ian
warned. “You’re booked solid. And if I have to buy your way out of your next
movie, it’ll be pricey.”
True, but his sanity was worth any amount. Simon had learned
firsthand that even piles and piles of money couldn’t buy happiness. That cliché
was a cliché for a reason.
“The producers of
Hellion
will
freak out if you postpone too long,” Ian went on. “It’ll put them in trouble
with the rest of the cast, studio time, everything.”
“If they can’t wait, they’ll have to find someone else,” Simon
said.
“Seriously?” Ian looked stupefied.
Simon couldn’t imagine trying to make a movie in his current
state of mind. “Seriously.” He turned to Gail. “Okay, we’ll go to Whiskey
Creek.”
“You’ll do it?” She sounded skeptical, and he couldn’t blame
her.
He thought of all the hours he’d spent aching for his son while
standing or sitting in Ty’s room. Maybe it was time for a radical change. “Why
not? Let your dad take his best shot.”
* * *
They needed to get married before doing anything else.
Only if Simon was legally bound to her and couldn’t be easily relegated to the
“temporary” category would Whiskey Creek even begin to accept him. Gail
understood that, which meant they had to change the proposed timeline of their
“courtship.”
Because she’d never been engaged and had no idea of the process
required to make a marriage legal, she used her smartphone while sitting at
Simon’s bedside to go online and figure out what they’d need to do to get a
license.
Fortunately, it was going to be easy. As long as they had
proper ID and proof of the dissolution of Simon’s marriage, they could pay a
fee, get a license on the spot and be married shortly after. No need for a blood
test; no need to go to Vegas.
But they had to appear at the county clerk’s office together,
and Simon hadn’t yet been released from the hospital so it wouldn’t happen
today.
Ian had stayed, too, although Simon was too drugged to do much
talking. Mostly, he slept. There were moments when Gail was tempted to leave so
she could prepare for their big move. But the number of hospital personnel who
popped into the room bothered her. They all came in and fiddled with this or
that, pretending to be on official business. However, Gail was convinced they
were merely gawking at the big movie star, which felt wrong since he wasn’t even
aware of them.
How many times did a guy with stitches need to be checked? she
wondered. It wasn’t as if Simon had had a heart attack or any other problem that
required such close monitoring. He just needed to catch up on his sleep, and
medicating him made sure he was able to do that.
“Word is spreading,” she told Ian as the door closed on yet
another visitor.
Simon’s business manager sat with his elbows on his knees and
his head in his hands. “What are you talking about?” he asked, looking up.
“That’s the fifth nurse to come in here in under an hour.”
“I know. He’d probably be getting a blow job by now if you
weren’t here.”
She could tell by the sulk in Ian’s voice that he was no longer
happy to be involved with her. He’d expected her to keep Simon productive so
that the next two years would run smoothly. Instead, she was pulling his client
out of circulation. “Simon doesn’t need a blow job. He needs a break from all
the celebrity worship and scrutiny.”
“You’re sure about that, are you? Why don’t we ask him if he’d
like one of these cute little nurses to—”
“Stop it.” She rolled her eyes. Ian was being crude on purpose,
trying to shock her. “I’ve got a novel concept—how about if we give Simon what
he needs instead of what he wants?”
“He doesn’t need you to tell him what to do. He’s a grown
man.”
She lowered her voice just in case Simon was nearing
consciousness. “Who’s on the brink of total collapse! You asked me to help for a
reason, remember? The fact that you’re fighting what’s best for him tells me
you’re as bad as his other so-called friends. You’re all vultures, hoping to
pick his bones.”
Ian shot to his feet. “That’s bullshit! I care more about him
than you do.”
She stood, too. “Then prove it.”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”
“At least quit pouting. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Feel free to go home if you don’t like it.”
No way. That was exactly what he’d been hoping she’d do. Then
he could try to talk Simon out of going to Whiskey Creek. “Sorry to disappoint
you but I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
Ian leaned toward her. “What you’re doing is crap, you know
that? You’re changing everything.”
“I’m making necessary adjustments.”
He combed his fingers through his hair, hesitated, then
continued in a calmer voice, one meant to sway her. “Come on, I’ll go with one
month, okay? One month is plenty of time for Simon to be gone. We can put the
producers of his next movie off until his hand heals but that’s it.”
“Sorry. Simon has to be out of circulation long enough to feel
it, to unwind and focus on other—”
Yet another nurse popped in, but she got only halfway through
the door before the look on Gail’s face stopped her dead in her tracks. Mumbling
a quick “Excuse me,” she ducked out as if she’d entered the room by mistake.
Ian whistled. “You’re a freakin’ pit bull.”
“You knew what I was like before you agreed to our deal.”
“I had no idea you’d talk him into quitting work!”
“He’s not quitting work, he’s taking a break so he’ll be able
to salvage his relationship with his son and his career. And call me what you
will, but now that I’m committed I’m going to do whatever it takes, so get used
to it.”
Simon shifted in the bed but didn’t open his eyes. “Hey,” he
said. “Could you guys argue somewhere else?”
How much had he overheard? Gail exchanged a glance with Ian
that essentially asked that question. But she got the impression that Simon
hadn’t been paying attention to much more than the harshness of their
whispering.
“Sorry,” Ian muttered. “I think I’ll take off.”
Simon’s eyes opened. “I’m surprised you lasted this long. You
must be bored stiff.”
“I thought you might need me, but…you’re in good hands with
Attila the Hun over there.”
“Attila was a man,” Gail snapped.
“I know that,” he snapped back.
“Sure you did.”
Ian lunged forward and gnashed his teeth. “He was ruthless,
right?”
Simon put up his good hand. “Whoa, what’d she do to you?”
“How can I get some of the nurses to give me their number if
she’s chasing them off?” He smoothed his wrinkled shirt.
“You that desperate?”
“Desperate enough.”
Simon didn’t press him further. “Okay. Talk to you later.”
“I’ll get your schedule cleared,” Ian said, his tone letting
them know that he still thought it was a mistake.
As the door swung shut behind Ian, Simon raised his bed and
turned his attention to her. “What’s up between you two?”
Stiff from sitting all day, Gail rolled her shoulders. “I made
it obvious that I wouldn’t let him get in my way, that’s all.”
“And he backed down?”
“I prefer to believe he realized I was right.”
“I don’t know....” He studied her with a frown. “A blow job is
never a
completely
bad idea.”
So he’d overheard more than she’d assumed. “If you already knew
what we were arguing about, why’d you ask?”
“Honestly? That’s the only part I can remember.”
She could tell he thought she’d snap at him, tell him to keep
his priorities straight, but why would she? He wasn’t serious. She was beginning
to believe he purposely painted himself as shallow and hedonistic so the people
around him wouldn’t realize he was so sensitive. Somehow it was easier for him
to outrage everyone than to allow them to see how deeply he was hurting.