When Lightning Strikes (Whiskey Creek #1)(75)
Author: Brenda Novak

“The one time you were together he caught you in bed? What are the chances of that?”

“Okay, we were together a few times. But it hadn’t been going on for more than a few weeks.” He jammed a hand through his hair. “I just blew it, didn’t I? He didn’t tell you a thing.”

“No. If I had my bet he hasn’t told a soul.” He could’ve used it to excuse his own bad behavior. To get his son back. To make his ex-wife look a lot worse than he did. But he hadn’t. He’d kept it inside. “You want to know why?”

Tex didn’t answer.

“Because he cares too much about his son. He would never want Ty to grow up knowing such a terrible thing about Bella, the way he had to grow up knowing what his mother did with you.”

“Our affair wasn’t all that broke up their marriage,” Tex said. “They were having trouble before. That’s why she came to me in the first place.”

“And you helped her out by seducing her.”

“She wanted it.”

“And that made you feel like a big man, didn’t it? That Simon’s wife could want you?”

He stepped back, nearly stumbled and knocked the lamp off the nightstand while he was trying to catch his balance. His hangover had put him at a disadvantage. “I don’t have to tolerate your judgmental bullshit.”

“And I don’t care if you think I’m judgmental. What you did makes me sick. The fact that you’re trying to justify it makes me even sicker.”

“It’s not like Simon and I have ever been close!”

“You were close when you did that, probably closer than you’ve ever been.”

He winced. “Something would’ve ruined it.”

“Is that what lets you sleep at night? He’s your son, for God’s sake! You know what I think?”

“Get out of here!” he snapped, but she wasn’t finished yet.

“I think you’re jealous of Simon,” she said. “He’s younger, stronger, better-looking, a superior actor and by far a better man. And you hate all that. You hate that he’s replaced you in Hollywood, outdone you so easily. So you’ve been doing everything you can to destroy him—at the same time you’ve been trying to capitalize on his success.”

Squeezing his eyes closed, he pressed a palm to his forehead as if he had too much of a headache to be having this conversation. “You shouldn’t have tricked me.”

She started to leave but turned back. “It was your guilty conscience that set you up, Dad. I only helped a little. Now get out of town before I tell Simon what you told me. It’s a miracle that he’s put up with you so far.”

He wasn’t willing to let her have the parting shot. “He won’t stay with you. You’re not even that pretty.”

“Maybe not. But I wouldn’t cheat on him in a million years. Especially with a morally bankrupt old fart like you. That’s got to be worth something,” she said, and slammed the door behind her.

26

Classic rock blasted from the old-fashioned boom box Simon had purchased at the hardware store as he tore out the sink, counters and cupboards in the kitchen. The furniture they’d purchased in Sacramento hadn’t arrived—almost two and still no delivery—but that didn’t affect him much. He’d been happily engaged in demolition since he got here more than three hours ago. It was a relief to be able to use his hand again. He knew he should get the stitches taken out because there was no more pain when he moved it.

Gail had brought him lunch a couple of hours ago, but she hadn’t stayed long. She’d said she had more work to do. For starters, she was closing the deal on the sale of their pictures for $2.8 million.

Simon didn’t mind working alone, but he frequently found himself thinking of Gail—the way she kissed or cuddled up to him in the night, or watched him when she didn’t realize he was aware of it. The house seemed strangely empty without her, and yet he felt as if he could get lost in his current task for days. The physicality of the work eased some of the deep-seated tension that kept him so wound up.

Just as he was thinking about calling her to see when she might be back, a vehicle pulled up outside. Assuming it was the furniture he’d been expecting, or maybe his wife, he set down his hammer and headed into the living room.

He’d left the front door ajar, partly to enjoy the nice weather and partly to make sure he didn’t miss the furniture delivery, but it was his father who stepped inside.

“You’re making a damn racket,” he said when he spotted Simon.

Simon dusted Sheetrock chalk from his hands and clothes. “So? This is my house. What are you doing here, anyway? Did you come to serve me papers?”

“Not this time.” He slanted his head to look beyond Simon. “Where’s Gail?”

“Gone, but she’ll be back soon.”

He tore the wrapper off a toothpick and shoved it in his mouth. “She’s different from anyone you’ve been with before. You know that?”

Leery, Simon folded his arms. “Different in what way?”

“Better. Stronger. I can see that, now I’ve got some painkiller in me and I’ve had a chance to think.”

Simon agreed with his assessment of Gail, but he wondered how his father had noticed so quickly. “What makes you say so?”

“Not hard to tell.” He handed over an envelope. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“A release.”

“From the film?” Simon didn’t bother hiding his surprise.

“Take a look.” His father gestured for him to open it.

Simon pulled a single handwritten sheet of paper from the envelope. It said that his contract with Excite Entertainment Production Company had been terminated and all monies paid him were due back in thirty days. It was a fair arrangement, one Simon could live with. “What changed your mind?” he asked.

A faint smile curved Tex’s lips. “I guess I don’t want to be a morally bankrupt old fart all the time.”

Simon had never heard his father talk this way before. “Excuse me?”

“Never mind. I owe you that much. And…” He moved the toothpick to one side and turned to spit over the railing. “I’m sorry I, uh, got involved with Bella. Sometimes even I don’t know why I do what I do.”

Simon wasn’t sure how to react. Tex could be agreeable and easygoing at times, but he always reverted to his more difficult, narcissistic self. Still, the pleasant moments were rare and that made this an Occasion. “So you’re no longer putting all the blame on her?”