When Lightning Strikes (24 page)

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 marriage 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.

24

J
ust 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 caused 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.

Gail seemed amused by the hostess’s reaction to his presence.
He was amused by it himself. True to Whiskey Creek form, she didn’t gush over
him or ask for his autograph, but she was obviously flustered.

“Hi, Tilly,” Gail said.

“Great to see you back,” the waitress responded.

“It’s great to be home. We’d like a booth, please.”

Pressing a hand to her chest as if her heart was beating too
fast, Tilly glanced at Simon, but looked away as soon as he met her eyes. “Right
this way.”

She took two menus from the holder but dropped one. When Simon
caught it before it could hit the floor and gave it back, she muttered, “Oh, my
God. I can’t believe this.”

Gail sent Simon a conspirator’s smile as Tilly marched ahead of
them, but someone else hailed her before they could reach their seats.

“Gail!”

Simon turned at the same time Gail did to see Callie, the
friend who’d made it clear she wasn’t happy to have Simon in Gail’s life,
sitting at a table—with Matt.

* * *

Gail wasn’t sure how to react. Simon wouldn’t want to be
waylaid by Matt or Callie, but Callie was one of her best friends, and nothing
had happened between her and Matt that prevented them from being friends, too.
They’d never even been a couple.

Still, it felt awkward to stand and talk at their table, and
even more awkward when Callie put her on the spot by insisting she and Simon
join them.

“Are you sure?” Gail asked. “I mean…haven’t you already
ordered?”

“Not yet. We got here just before you.” The way Callie said it
led Gail to suspect this might be a test to see how she’d react now that she was
married to Simon.

Gail didn’t want Callie to think having Simon as her husband
would make her any less receptive to her friends. “In that case…” She nearly
sent Simon an apologetic glance, but knew Callie and Matt would see it, too, and
recognize it for what it was. So she didn’t look at him. She returned Callie’s
smile as she accepted, and even though Callie slid over, making a place for her,
she sat on Matt’s side. With Simon’s right hand still bandaged, he needed to eat
with his left. And Matt was so big she couldn’t imagine cramming another guy
into the booth next to him.

“Have you eaten here since you’ve been back?” Gail could feel
Simon’s gaze on her as she addressed Matt.

The glower that had descended on Matt’s face when Simon
approached the table eased, as if he’d won a small victory when she sat beside
him. “Once. I plan to come as often as possible before I have to leave.”

Gail took the menu Tilly handed her. “When will that be?”

“Whenever I’m capable of running without pain.”

“It’s terrible what happened to your knee. How’s the therapy
going?”

“Okay. At least I get to be home while I do it.”

Tilly gave Simon his menu as Gail asked, “Who are you working
with? Curtis?”

“Yeah.”

Curtis Viglione was one of the best therapists in the country.
He saw a lot of professional athletes. After building a reputation and a
considerable clientele in the San Francisco Bay Area, he’d moved to Whiskey
Creek three or four years ago—Gail couldn’t remember exactly when. Now he had
athletes come to his state-of-the-art center built in the hills about a mile
outside town. “From what I hear, he’s a miracle worker. Sounds like you’re in
great hands.”

Matt nodded, but his eyes kept moving to Simon, who was glaring
at him. Why Simon would bother with this little rivalry, Gail couldn’t say.
There was no point in acting possessive or jealous when he didn’t really care
about her. But she figured it might be part of what he felt was expected of a
husband, another aspect of playing his role.

Regardless, it made her uncomfortable. She wanted her friends
to like him, although she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why. Maybe it was
just so they wouldn’t think she was foolish for marrying him.

She cleared her throat to gain Simon’s attention. “What looks
good?” she asked, but he didn’t get a chance to answer. Tilly was still standing
at the table, waiting to tell them about the daily specials. She rattled off a
spiel about homemade chili and cornbread for $8.99 and beef Stroganoff with sour
cream for $12.99. Then she announced that Luanne would be their server and, when
she couldn’t seem to think of anything else to say, finally left.

In her peripheral vision, Gail could see Tilly whispering to
two waitresses at the coffee machine. They kept turning to look at Simon, no
doubt excited to have a movie star in their midst. But Gail was too wrapped up
in manufacturing small talk to pay much more attention than that.

“How’s business at the studio, Callie?” she asked.

“Busy. I’ve been doing lots of family portraits. And a few
weddings.”

“You’re a photographer?” Simon asked.

“I am.” She offered him a fake smile. “I would’ve been happy to
photograph you and Gail at your wedding—but of course you didn’t really have
one.”

Gail jumped in before Simon could respond. “We wanted to keep
it simple.”

“You certainly accomplished that,” Callie said. “It doesn’t get
any simpler than a few vows and ‘I do.’”

Luanne showed up with water for Gail and Simon; Callie and Matt
already had theirs. She said she’d be back to take their order in a few minutes,
but Gail caught her before she could leave, insisting they were ready now. They
hadn’t even looked at the menu, but she wanted to get this dinner over with as
soon as possible.

They all fell silent while they quickly perused the meal
selections. Then Gail ordered the meat loaf, Simon the pot roast, and Callie and
Matt went for the chili. After Luanne left, Matt spoke up. “So…how’s married
life?”

Simon gave him a smile that, to Gail’s eye, looked a little too
deliberately satisfied. “Second time’s the charm.”

“Too bad it didn’t work out that way for your father. How many
times has he been married, anyway?”

Gail winced at Matt’s choice of subject, and the derision in
his voice. She doubted he’d heard, but the fact that Tex was in town somehow
made it worse.

“I haven’t kept track,” Simon said.

“Are you two planning to have children?” Callie asked.

Were her friends purposely trying to embarrass Simon? Gail
answered, just in case. “Probably not.” She’d wanted to limit the conversation
on that subject by sounding resolved. But she’d seemed too reconciled to not
having kids. She could instantly tell that Callie was not pleased with her
response.

“Why not?” her friend demanded.

“Simon already has a son,” she replied, but that didn’t
help.

“So?” Callie set her water down so fast it sloshed over the
sides. “What about
you?
You’ve always wanted
children.”

Gail lowered her voice. “You don’t have to be so defensive of
me, Callie. I’m happy the way I am. Besides…maybe we
will
have children someday. We’re merely saying we don’t have any
immediate plans, okay?”

Callie scowled at Simon. “Just because you’ve had it all and
done it all doesn’t mean you don’t have to consider
her.
”

Instead of getting angry, as Gail expected, Simon validated
Callie’s concern. “I understand that,” he said.

His calm answer seemed to take the fire out of Callie’s anger.
“She’s one of my best friends, you know? I care about her. I want her to be
happy.”

“So do I,” Simon said, and he sounded so sincere Gail almost
applauded.

“Great.” Gail used her napkin to mop up the water Callie had
spilled. “You both care about me. I couldn’t be in better hands. Now…maybe you
can try to get along? Because
that’s
what would make
me happiest.”

A sulky expression turned down the corners of Callie’s
lips.

“We’re already married, Callie.” Gail leaned across the table
to squeeze her hand. “I know you’re mad that I didn’t take your advice, but…it’s
over. Can we leave it for the time being?”

Her friend sighed audibly. “I’m just afraid your happiness
won’t last.”

If she only knew… “So you’re going to ruin it?”

“No.”

“Hollywood marriages hardly ever succeed.” Matt volunteered
this, but it was unclear whether he was inviting responses or simply stating a
fact.

Regardless of what he meant, Gail warned Simon with a look not
to put Matt in his place. Simon could’ve said quite a bit about the world of a
professional athlete. But what was the point? Matt was right; Hollywood
marriages rarely did last, and this one would turn out to be the perfect
example. “Okay, everyone’s aired their complaints and expressed their worry, and
it’s all been duly noted by me. Can we please enjoy our dinner without making me
regret that I’ve asked my husband to sit through this?”

Callie and Matt nodded grudgingly, but it wasn’t long before
they were enjoying themselves. When Simon started regaling them with stories
about some of the unusual and out-of-the-way locations he’d gone to shoot
movies, and the stunts he’d had to perform without a double, Matt dropped all
animosity. Soon, he was so mesmerized he was talking and laughing as if he’d
never viewed Simon as a competitor.

When Simon got up to go to the bathroom, Gail expected Callie
to tell her again why she’d been crazy to marry him. But she didn’t. “He can be
charming,” she admitted instead. Her tone implied she had to allow him that
much.