Page 74 of Show Off

“I see.”

I wonder if he does. If Dal’s childhood on camera bore any resemblance to mine. He looks at me a long time. The kindness in his eyes makes my chest hurt. “Thank you for sharing that.”

I bite my lip. “It goes without saying I’d like you not to tell my siblings.”

He blinks. “They don’t know?”

Shaking my head, I look down at my lap. “No. They don’t.”

Dal’s quiet a long time. I feel his eyes on the top of my head, but I don’t dare look up.

“The affair partner,” he says softly. “The other man. Is he in the picture?”

I shake my head slowly. “He died twenty years ago in a boating accident. If he even knew, he took the secret to his grave.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah.” I finally get brave enough to look up. Dal studies me with warm, kind eyes. “So that’s it. My big secret.”

The word pings a memory lodged deep in the back of my brain.

“It’ll be just our secret, Lana.”Mom smoothed back my hair, her blue eyes so much like mine. Not like my siblings, whose hazel gazes match our father.

Theirfather.

“Sweetheart.” Dal’s voice stirs something inside me. “I can’t believe you’ve been carrying that around all this time. That you’re sharing it now with me.”

“Yeah, well.” I shrug helplessly. “There’s this new book coming out. Something that might spill the tea.”

He watches me, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Why not just put it out there? Go public with things so it can’t control you.”

“That’s an option.” Does he understand why it’s not such an easy decision? “Ultimately, though, it’s not my secret to tell.”

One brow lifts. “Isn’t it?”

“I’m not the one who had the affair. I’m also not the husband who’ll have his paternity questioned. His masculinity.” I look up at the ceiling. “And there’s a part of me that wants to protect my parents. My mother, the man who raised me. Mydad. Laurence Judson.”

He doesn’t nod, but doesn’t argue, either. He waits with the patience of Job. Maybe he knows what’s coming.

“Mom wants me to create a distraction.”

Dal doesn’t flinch. “Is she sending a tutu, or do you already have one?”

I try to smile, but I can’t. “The distraction is you.”

He blinks. “Huh?”

Here we go. “Mom knows I’m hot for you because—” Well, because it’s obvious toeveryone. “Because she’s seen you on TV and I’ve maybe said your name a few dozen times.” Make that a few thousand. “She thinks if we start dating?—”

“No.” He starts to get up, but I stop him with a hand on his knee.

“You misunderstand.” I look deep in his eyes. “I’m not asking you to date me to cover up my mom’s dirty secret.”

His dark eyes narrow. “What are you asking?”

I lick my lips, conscious of the lingering taste of champagne. “I’m putting it out there that I’m attracted to you. That I wouldn’t mind dating you or—or whatever.”

“Whatever?” There’s that brow lift again.

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