Page 164 of Damaged Mogul
Shock and confusion hit me in one hard blow.
“You have someone spying on me?”
“At least you’re not denying it.” That’s his fucking answer?
“You can’t be bothered to call to find out if I’ve been mugged in the streets of Los Angeles. Yet, you have time to hire a private investigator to follow me around?”
“I didn’t have to resort to anything that dramatic,” my father says. “Alder saw you.”
“Alder is in LA?”
“Yes. He’s seeing a semi-famous actress who’s bicoastal. They’re at her Malibu house for a few days.”
His revelation lands me on my ass. “Let me get this straight.” I lift a hand, as if he could see me. “Your youngest son, my half-brother, is in LA––in Malibu, to be precise––”
“I’m not a fan of his choice. Hollywood types are flaky at best. And actors are master performers. You never know when they’re being genuine or playing for the camera. Whatever-her-name-is, is the flavor of the month. It’ll die soon. It always does. Alder will find a new toy.”
“Who cares about the stupid actress? Alder is in the same city as I am, but instead of coming up to me and saying,‘Hey, how you doin’, Lily?’he reported my whereabouts to you?” I’m enraged. Incensed. And hurt. This is beyond ridiculous. I’m tired of beingpersona non grata. “If he wants to pretend I don’t exist, he should pretend he doesn’t see me when we’re in the same city.”
“I sent you to LA to scope out schools, not to get sidetracked. Gage Hollingsworth?” He snorts. “He’s a playboy, Lily.”
His patronizing tone infuriates me.
“Don’t fall for his act. He’ll use you and disregard you like yesterday’s news.”
Like you did Mom?
“That’syourMO. It doesn’t mean every man on the planet operates the same way.”
“All I’m saying is Gage has plenty of options.” Fisher Edgington is Teflon. Insults bounce off his invisible shield. “He’ll have forgotten about you before your plane takes off… if he hasn’t already.”
My blood boils. “You know nothing about––”
“There are certain gifts you can only offer once, Lily… choose wisely.”
Huh?
He knows I was a virgin?
Impossible.
I’ve never had the birds and the bees talk with my father, let alone divulge anything about my sexual life.
He must be playing some sort of twisted mind game to get me to open up. I wouldn’t put it past him.
Not happening.
I soldier on. “If you think so little of Gage, why did you enlist him as my bodyguard?”
“At the time, I thought he was a safe bet. I figured the brooding CEO with a chip on his shoulder wouldn’t give you the time of the day. Rich California moguls tend to prefer blondes.”
I’m not even sure how to decipher that insult.
Okay, there’s an eye-popping number of blondes in Los Angeles. That doesn’t justify his grotesque blanket statement or his putdown.
The fight leaves me, evaporating like a puddle of water under the hot California sun.
This conversation is a waste of my time.
