When Lightning Strikes (Whiskey Creek #1)(61)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Turned out they didn’t need the help.”

Simon guessed that was a lie, but Gail quickly covered for her friends. “I think they’re having a tough time staying in the black.”

Sophia let it slide. “You’re probably right.”

“Anyway, I’m sorry you have to put off the job search.”

“It’s not a big deal. Really.”

Gail motioned to the empty room. “And I’m sorry we can’t offer you a seat….”

“That’s okay. I can’t stay. Skip will be wondering where I went—if he ever gets off the phone.”

After shooting Simon a glance, Gail said, “He’s home this week?”

“Got home late last night. He does that sometimes. Just shows up out of the blue.” She laughed, although there was no real mirth in it, and when she tucked her hair behind her ear she immediately untucked it—but not before Simon saw the bruise on her cheek.

“What happened?” he asked.

She acted confused. “What do you mean?”

“To your cheek.”

“Oh, that.” She rolled her eyes. “I ran into the door. Can you believe it? Clumsy, huh?”

Gail stepped up to inspect her injury. “Looks painful.”

“It’s not. Not really. It’ll heal.”

“When did this happen?” Simon asked.

“Last night.”

Before or after her husband came home? Simon had no reason to assume that Skip might be abusing his wife. Except that her excuse seemed flimsy. And the way she talked about her husband, as if he had the last say in everything, sounded suspect.

“I know this weekend isn’t good for you with everything you’ve got going, but let me know if you can come to dinner sometime next week,” she said, and headed for the door.

When Gail asked, “What day were you thinking?” Simon almost laughed out loud. He’d been right about how hard it was for her to withhold her friendship.

“Tuesday? Wednesday?”

“Tuesday should work. What time?”

“Six?”

Gail’s smile grew more certain. “Perfect. Can we bring dessert? Or the wine?”

“There’s no need. I’ve got everything. Thanks. Thanks a lot.” Seemingly excited to have obtained a commitment, she left.

“Way to hold your ground,” Simon teased after Gail had closed the door. “You showed her.”

She groaned. “I know. I’m such a sucker.”

“That’s okay.” He tweaked her nose. “I like suckers. Especially when they’re as cute as you are.”

“Because I’m a sucker for you, too,” she said with a disgruntled look.

“Since when?” he asked with a grin. “If I’d known that, I’d have been taking advantage of it.”

She was too busy berating herself for caving with Sophia to respond. “Why did I say yes?”

“Because you had to. She was trying so hard. And it’ll be okay. I just hope she can cook.” He took the mattress out of the box and began to assemble the pump.

“She can bake. I don’t know about anything else. We’ve never been friends. I just agreed to have dinner with the girl who stole my date for junior prom simply because she could.”

“You didn’t tell me about that.”

“Because it’s not what matters. Not compared to Scott.”

“Something like that is pretty traumatic to a teenager….”

“I couldn’t blame the guy who ditched me. My dad was so strict I had to be home by eleven o’clock, which counted out the after-party. And my prom dress would’ve looked like a gunnysack compared to everyone else’s. He wouldn’t let me show an inch of skin.”

Simon smiled at the image she painted of herself as an embarrassed girl with a domineering father. “Ah, now I see where you developed your penchant for the boxy business suit.”

Her eyebrows came together. “Why don’t you like my suits? They’re stylish.”

He had to speak over the whine of the air pump. “It’d be nice to see you in something sexy for a change.”

“That won’t fix the red hair and freckles. I’m sure you can see how I might get passed over.”

She had a lot more to offer than most women. But he didn’t say so. He’d passed over her, hadn’t he? It took a second look to really see her beauty. “There’s nothing wrong with your appearance. Anyway, I’m glad you gave in on dinner.”

“Why?”

“Beats kicking Sophia while she’s down.”

“Like people have kicked you?”

“Deserving it only makes it worse,” he said with a wry grin. He squeezed the mattress to see how firm it had become. Almost done. “What about her husband? Is he any more popular than she is?”

Gail sat near him and pulled her knees to her chest like a child. She was so unaware of the assets she did possess. It was refreshing. Beyond refreshing—endearing.

“He keeps everyone at arm’s length,” she said. “But he has a good reputation. Most of Whiskey Creek has invested with him at one time or another. Even my father. And Martin’s about as conservative as a person gets.”

“I can only imagine,” he said wryly. “What does Skip do?”

“Puts together venture capital partnerships, so he meets with investors all over the world.”

Simon turned off the air pump. “Did you see that bruise on her face?”

“I did.” She frowned. “The way she kept trying to hide it makes me think it didn’t come from a door.”

“Have there been rumors about abuse?” Simon rolled out the sleeping bags while she got up and plugged in her laptop.

“A few. She’s been seen with other injuries. But it’s hard to believe Skip would strike her. He acts like the perfect husband and father—makes sure his family always has the best of everything.”

“Maybe they only look perfect in public.”

“Or maybe we’re jumping to conclusions,” she said as she queued up the movie they’d selected, which was another indie film. Unless they were particularly well done, Simon had a hard time watching big, commercial movies like the ones he worked on. After being in the industry for so long, and being exposed to its inner workings even as a child, they seemed too predictable and formulaic to him. He preferred the off-beat humor or unusual situations and settings he could find in indies or foreign films.