Heather sat up and glared at her friend. “What is it you aren’t telling me?”
“Seth’s doing the plays too.”
She’d said it so quickly it took Heather a moment to register her words. When she did, she’d wished she hadn’t asked. The air whooshed out of her lungs and she slumped back into the couch cushion. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
It hadn’t even occurred to her that Seth would be invited. Of course he would be. His addition to the plays in L.A. had brought in a lot of additional funding. If she’d had any capacity to think at all the last few weeks, she would have already realized it.
Lexie should have already realized it.
Heather shifted to give her assistant the best glare she could manage. “Why didn’t you tell me before we got here?”
Lexie crossed the room and sat on the couch next to her before answering. “Because I was afraid of what you’d do. But I feel guilty. So I told you. Besides, I think you should be prepared.”
A lump formed in Heather’s throat that she quickly swallowed down. “I don’t know why you’re so concerned. I’m a professional. We can figure something out.” She was an actress—those lines should have been more convincing.
“You’ve refused to talk to him or see him for weeks, and now you’re okay with it?”
Heather flung her arms halfheartedly in the air. “No, I’m not okay with it, but I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
“Don’t you? You didn’t want to work with him anymore on Girl Fight and poof! He was off the film. It seems to me you have all the choices, Heather.” Her tone was laced with malice.
Heather hadn’t realized Lexie felt that way. They hadn’t talked about it before now. Yeah, throwing Seth off the movie hadn’t been one of her finer moments, but she just couldn’t see him then. Not when the wounds had been fresh.
She didn’t know if she could see him now either. She was still working that out in her head. One thing she knew for certain, she wouldn’t get him fired from the plays. He was too important to the cause.
“Girl Fight was different,” she explained to Lexie. “He was there for the wrong reasons. He works on the plays because he believes in them.” Seth at that elementary school flashed through her mind. “He did a lot of good for other people in L.A. I wouldn’t take that away from them because I got my silly little heart broken.”
Her voice choked and Lexie put her arm around her in a hug.
Heather let herself fall into the embrace, relishing the warmth of human contact. She wasn’t usually a hugger, but now, after so many weeks of missing Seth’s touch, a hug was exactly what she needed.
When she pulled out of the hug, Heather leaned her head against Lexie’s. “How do you know Seth’s here, anyway?”
“He, um, told me.”
Heather shot upright. “You’ve talked to him?”
“Maybe once or twice. Or five times.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.
But it was a big deal and Lexie knew it. Her play-it-off tactic was not working on Heather. “Five times! Behind my back? How could you do that?”
“You refused to talk to him and he wanted to know how you were.”
Heather wavered between feeling this was yet another betrayal from a loved one and an intense curiosity to discover whatever she could about her ex-lover.
Before she could figure out which emotion to go with, Lexie added softly, “I’ve talked to him enough to genuinely believe he cares about you.”
Heather wanted to believe that. Almost did. But, his lie. “Yeah, he’s got a real fine way of showing it.”
“So he fucked up. Have you never fucked up in your life? I want you to think long and hard about that answer before you give it.”
Heather didn’t have to think long and hard. She’d fucked up plenty. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d fucked up with Seth, though she didn’t know how she would have played it differently.
She bit her lip, hoping to curb any emotion that might spill out when she spoke next. “How is he?” Then she held her breath while she waited for Lexie’s answer.
“He’s not good. He misses you. He seems to be a real mess.”
She let the air out of her lungs in a shaky exhale. “Well, that’s something.”
“You should talk to him.”
Three weeks ago she’d vowed to never talk to him again. Two weeks ago she’d still believed she could keep that promise. But now…? She wasn’t quite sure when her resolve had weakened, but now she found herself considering.
And then stopped considering. “I just…I can’t, Lex.”
“You’re going to be working together. Wouldn’t it be a good idea to at least smooth things over?”
Smoothing things over wouldn’t be necessary if she planned on avoiding him the entire twenty-four hours. But she didn’t say that to Lexie.
“And since the interview’s aired, you should probably decide how you’re going to address questions about the two of you.”
Heather closed her eyes and held her head in her hands. “I don’t want to think about the interview.” Her Jenna Markham special had aired earlier that week to record network ratings. So far, Heather had managed to avoid any follow-up press. Lexie had warded off most of the media by releasing a statement that Heather needed some personal time to deal with people affected by the things she’d said in her interview.
It wasn’t a lie. Just most people assumed that meant her family, not Seth. Right now, the world still thought she was with the Hollywood Production Designer, because she hadn’t bothered to tell anyone any different.
But there would be press at the end of the 24-Hour Plays. She wouldn’t be able to avoid the questions then. And people would see her. And Seth. Her and Seth not together.
That’s why she couldn’t think about the interview. Because it inevitably led to thinking about Seth and how eventually she’d have to tell the world that they’d broken up. The thought was devastating. Because then it would be real.
“I know you don’t want to think about it,” Lexie said, unaware of what tormented Heather most about the interview. “But it’s out there now. And you can’t avoid the press forever. And do you really regret saying any of those things? Even without Seth?”
“No.” The only thing she regretted was that Seth wasn’t in her life anymore. “I miss him, Lexie.” Her voice caught. “Like, so much.”
Lexie pulled her into another hug. She tucked Heather’s blond hair behind her ear and out of the way of her fresh tears. “If you think about it, it was kind of romantic. Taking a job with a pay cut in order to be near you.”
“You don’t think that’s, like, stalkerish?”
“It could be, if the guy was a freak. But it’s Seth.”
“Yeah.” Seth. God, just thinking his name made her heart beat faster. There was no one like Seth. Never would be, she was sure of it. “But he lied.”
“You don’t always make it easy for people to love you,” Lexie said. “Can you really blame the guy for having to play games to get to see the real you?”
“Am I really that awful of a person?”
“No, sweetie. You’re really not.” She wiped at Heather’s tears with her thumb. “But you put up a lot of extra stuff that people have to look past in order to find that out.”
“I do do that, don’t I?” If Seth had been honest from the beginning, there was a good chance things wouldn’t have gone down between them like they did. They’d probably have had a one-night fling and that’s all. By keeping the truth from her, she’d been forced to deal with things about herself that she never would have dealt with otherwise.
She’d never have been able to love him like she did. Or had. No, did. She still loved him. She couldn’t deny that, even to herself.
Heather took a Kleenex from Lexie and wiped her nose with the tissue. “I kind of liked myself better when I was with him.”
“Me, too.”
She laughed. “Now you’re just being mean.”
<
br /> “Okay, maybe I am.” Lexie stood and moved back around the couch. “All right, I’m leaving for the store. You’ll be okay?”
“Yep. Take your time. Enjoy the fresh air.” The time alone would give her time to figure out what to do about Seth.
“You’re sure?”
“Yep. Besides, I bet you’re tired of being cooped up with my crazy ass.”
“Bitchy ass is more like it. And I won’t answer for fear of keeping my job.”
Heather turned to lean her face on the back of the couch. “You always act like I’m on the verge of firing you. You know you can’t get rid of me that easy, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Lexie sighed, her hand at the door. “But a girl can dream.”
Heather laughed—her first genuine laugh in weeks, and kept chuckling after Lexie had left. It was good to feel something besides depressed. Did she feel good because she’d had a good moment with Lexie or because she was finally moving past her heartache?
Or was her better mood because she knew Seth would be at the plays?
She let herself daydream about it for a few minutes—imagined rehearsing the plays, bumping into him backstage. Would he try to talk to her? Would she want to talk to him? Would they end up making out against the wall, their bodies pressed together in all the right places?
And that’s why she was afraid of working with him. Because she wanted to talk to him and touch him and kiss him and lick him as much as she wanted to never see him again. At least the never seeing him again option protected her from further heartache, but she was so hurt already, could there really be a “further”?
Maybe she should cancel her participation in the plays. Lexie would be disappointed, but—
A rapping at the door jolted her from her increasingly tormented thoughts. She jumped up, glancing at the occasional table by the closet where she knew Lexie had left her keycard earlier. Yep, just as she expected, the keycard was there.
She picked up the card and opened the door to hand it to her assistant who had obviously left it behind. “Damn it, Lex, when are you going to remember–?”
Except it wasn’t Lexie at the door.
Heather’s mouth went dry and a lump caught in her throat. “Daddy.” She was stunned, to say the least. When she’d seen Dean on the set of Girl Fight, she’d told him she was done with the handouts. That didn’t mean she didn’t expect to see him again, but certainly she thought her generous check bought her a couple of years reprieve.
Dean brushed past her, swinging the door open as he did.
“I didn’t say you could come in.”
“But you’d never turn me away.”
“Yes, I would. I told you last time, no more.” She turned to face him, aware that the door hadn’t closed completely behind him, but unwilling to take her eyes off of him to shut it herself. Besides, being alone with her father was never the best option, though habit kept her from wanting their encounter to be broadcast to whoever might be in the hall.
She watched as he crossed to the windows and whistled at the view. “Nice crib,” he said. “Definitely a step up from your fancy trailer.”
Heather ignored his comments and adopted a defensive posture, crossing her arms over her chest. “How did you know where to find me?” It was one of the first questions she asked every time she saw him, and yet he always evaded it.
This time was no different. “I always know where you are babydoll. I’m your Daddy.”
She cringed at his parental declaration. Was she too old to be emancipated from him? Because it wouldn’t bother her much if she never saw him and his yellow-toothed grin again. “What do you want, Dean? Let’s skip the bullshit this time and you just tell me.”
His eyes narrowed slightly at her use of his name. It was the first time she’d called him anything but Daddy, and though she’d rather not have to call him anything at all, the departure felt good.
“Well, you see, life was going along just fine.” He turned away from the view and began inspecting the minibar. “The money you gave us was helping your Mama, and I even managed to find a good job.” He pulled a few bottles out and stuffed them in his pocket without reading the labels.
“That’s fabulous.” Her tone couldn’t be any dryer if she tried.
“But see,” he pocketed another handful of bottles, “then some report came out where you told the world I was a bad father.”
Her heart skipped a beat, but she refused to show it. “And your point is?”
He shut the fridge door and turned to pin his eyes on his daughter. “Why would you tell people lies like that?”
“Because they aren’t lies.” She’d wondered how her father would take her tell-all exclusive, but she’d been more concerned about her own life post-Jenna interview than his. Even with him standing in front of her, she still didn’t care about his reaction. She just wanted him to go. “If that’s all you came to talk about, you need to leave. Actually, you need to leave period.”
“But, Heather, you don’t understand the consequences of your lies.” He took a couple of steps toward her. “I lost my job because of the things you been saying.”
“You lost your job because you show up stoned out of your mind.” Unbelievable. He’d never kept a job more than a few months at a time, and he was blaming this termination on her? He might not have even been fired. He might not have even had a job! He wasn’t exactly the poster boy for honesty.
Which was why she was done with him—done with him the moment she’d said on national television that she’d wished he was dead. And if he couldn’t be dead for real, he could at least be dead to her. “Dean, I’m not doing this anymore. Seriously. You need to leave.”
“I ain’t leaving until I get some compensation.”
“Compensation?” Her voice rose. “What about my compensation? Who’s going to compensate me for all the time and money I’ve given you?”
He gestured to the luxurious suite. “I think you’ve gotten the better end of the stick.”
“I made my end of the stick myself.” She was pissed now. Seriously pissed. How dare he claim what she’d busted her ass to achieve? “All of this you see here? It’s mine because I earned it. I don’t owe you anything. I’m not giving you anything else. Last time was the end.”
“Now don’t be like that, Heather. Just give me what I deserve and I’ll be going.” He started a slow saunter toward her that she admittedly found more than a bit creepy.
Still she played brave. “Or what? Do you think you have something over me? The only thing I’ve been embarrassed about is you and you’re not a secret anymore.” Surprisingly, she was pissed enough to play brave convincingly.
“Don’t fucking tell me you’re embarrassed by me.” He continued his approach, each step he took backing her up until she’d reached the wall. “It’s me who’s embarrassed to have a whore for a daughter—a famous whore. You think that makes me proud?”
“Get out of here!” she screamed, her fear now too strong to keep suppressed.
“It’s my turn to say, or what?” He put a hand on each side of her, caging her in. His breath was foul and his voice low and snakelike. “We both know you aren’t going to call security.”
Now she remembered another reason she always gave Dean what he wanted—because he scared her. Legitimately scared her. She knew he wasn’t above roughing her up. He could hit her. Push her around. He was skinny from drug use, but he was still strong.
Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain Dean could hear it. Or maybe that wasn’t her heart, but the door.
“Excuse me, miss? Are you okay in here?”
She glanced over to see a bellhop sticking his head in the doorway. His eyes darted from Heather to Dean then back to Heather, surmising the situation. “Do you need some help?”
The Heather of three months ago would have said no, would have done anything to keep attention away from her and her crack-head father.
But the Heather of today was a completely different per
son. “Yes! Please! I do need help.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Dean said. “We’re fine here. Just a personal matter.”
“We’re not fine here!” Heather took advantage of Dean’s distraction to duck out under his arms. She ran to the bellhop’s side, wanting a person between her and the man she used to call Daddy. “He’s here uninvited and I want him to leave.”
“She’s being dramatic. I’m her father.”
“I want him to leave!”
The bellhop stepped inside and picked up the phone on the occasional table. “Hi, this is Wes Lang. We need a manager and security to this room, please. There’s a situation.”
“There’s no situation.” Dean turned to his daughter, eyes pleading. “Heather, come on, now.”
“No, you come on!” Maybe because she felt less frightened with the bellhop with her, or maybe just because she’d finally reached her limit of Dean Hutchins shit, Heather suddenly felt her rage welling up inside her like a geyser.
Then the geyser blew. “I am sick and tired of you manipulating me and pushing me around. You’ve caused me nothing but pain and humiliation my whole life—when you were supposed to care for me and love me. I’m through. Do you hear me? I’m through being ashamed. It’s not my fault that you’re messed up. And it’s not my fault that you are a horrible excuse for a father. And just because I grew up with you doesn’t mean I have to be anything like you. So I’m not enabling you anymore. I’m done. As soon as I get back to L.A. I’m filing for a restraining order, something I should have done years ago. And, so help me God, if you come near me again, I will throw you in the slammer without a second thought.”
“Babydoll—”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” She turned to the bellhop, her body shaking. “Can you get him out of here?”
“Don’t bother,” Dean said gruffly. “I’m leaving.”
Star Struck (Hollywood Heat) Page 23
