Page 90 of Bargain with the Bachelor
“I know that,” I said aloud.
Hap gripped my wrist, preventing the glass from reaching its intended destination. “You. Are. Not. Your. Father,” he repeated more deliberately.
Now I turned to glare at my friend, who clearly thought he was helping somehow butreallyneeded to mind his own business.
Hap had some idea of the things that had transpired in my childhood, but only my brother Jack understood the full truth.
And well-meaning though he was, Hap hadn’t lost his mother as a child, dealt with a neglectful, alcoholic father, experienced childhood poverty—or watched the only woman he’d ever loved slip through his fingers.
Fully annoyed now, I extracted my drink with my other hand then yanked my wrist forcefully from Hap’s grip.
“Iknowthat,” I growled. “You don’t need to say it.”
“I think I do,” Hap argued. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out why things fell apart with you and Kristal—and why you haven’t gotten in your car, driven to New York, and brought her back when it’s so obvious you two are meant to be together. She was in love with you, man. We could all see it. Andeveryoneknows you’re in love with her. You’ve been walking around like a zombie since the day she left. The only thing I can come up with is that youpushedher away. On purpose.”
“That’s not true. I told her I wanted her to stay. I offered her anything and everything she wanted.”
“Everything? Really?”
“Yeah. You know I’d do anything for her.”
Hap hesitated. “From the time I spent with Kristal, I’d say she’s about as real and transparent as it gets. She told me the reason she liked me—as a friend of course—was that I wasn’t afraid to be transparent too. I talked to her about my past, about growing up with Jessica and the messed-up Hollywood stuff we both went through. I told her about my regrets, the mistakes I made. She did the same. We got to be really good friends.”
“Good for you. What’s your point?”
“You’ve gone after her with the same determination and work ethic that helped you build Chipp from the ground up. But she’s not a tech company. She’s not a tricky piece of code. She doesn’t need your drive to succeed... she just wants your heart.” He paused. “Did youtellher about your dad? About what happened at the jail that night?”
My eyes narrowed. Hap was treading dangerous ground here.
“I saw you back way off after that night,” he said. “And it was pretty clear Kristal was confused about the change. I’m just saying… you’re not your dad… but it sure as hell looks like you’re trying to be.”
I bolted from my chair, gesturing angrily at my friend.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Go back to the party, Hap. If I want a psychologist, I’ll hire one—not some ‘actor’ who plays one on TV.”
“Fine.” With a weary sigh, Hap stood and walked to the doorway, turning back just before leaving.
“By the way, your brother and his wife just got here. And that guy from high school… Harry McAllen. I didn’t think you two were friends. I know I couldn’t stand him.”
That got my attention. “Harry is here?”
“Yeah, came in about half an hour ago with some smokin’ hot cougar. He’s down there hitting up the open bar and talking shit to the L.A. people about wanting to be a TV producer. I guess the law practice is going well if he’s got that kind of money to invest.” Hap left.
Feeling the first spark of life I’d felt in weeks, I rose from my chair and headed for the theater room exit and the staircase beyond it.
Though I was a little dizzy and somewhat numb, I was pretty sure the spark was anger. What on earth would Harry McAllen be doing here?
From the top of the grand staircase, I surveyed the great room below, taking in the smiling faces, the sparkling glasses, the laughter.
Hap must have selected a lights, camera, action theme for the party because set lights glowed from each corner and there were cameramen roaming the room, interviewing people. A red carpet runner stretched from the foyer to the great room entrance.
None of it interested me. And I didn’t see Harry McAllen anywhere.
But Ididsee Margot Bianco.
She stood near the bar, dressed to the nines in a low-cut dress and sky-high heels, chatting up a network executive. As she reached over to play flirtatiously with the man’s tie, a wave of nausea swamped me.
I turned and stumbled to my suite, not eager to encounter Kristal’s vile stepmother up close.
