Agitated, Ian began to pace. “They’ll think he’s cracking up, that he’s finally lost it. I’ve spent so much time trying to make them believe he’ll be fine, snap back, get into it again.”
She threw up her hands. “Then tell them it’s because he’s fallen in love and is getting married. We’ll provide plenty of pictures to prove it. Making a commitment to someone stable should be a good sign, not a bad one.”
“They don’t know you’re stable. Anyway, you could be perfectly stable until you hook up with him.”
“Well, that’s how we need to sell it, because I now believe this is Simon’s last chance in more ways than one.”
Ian’s mouth hung open for several seconds before he could find the words to respond, but at least he’d quit pacing. “So…I get him out of all his obligations, and then what?”
“We leave L.A.”
“And go where?”
Gail’s mind whirled. She was on to something. She could feel it. Her certainty grew as she considered the problem from all angles. Simon couldn’t stay in Los Angeles. Here, he was surrounded by the same temptations, reminders, people and worries. How could he effect the changes he needed to make when he was mired in the past? When nothing else was changing?
Getting away made sense. But where should she take him? To one of his houses abroad?
No. What if the accident hadn’t been an accident? She didn’t want to be out of the country if something like this happened again. Or he went back to drinking. She preferred someplace she felt comfortable and safe and could get the help he would need. Someplace where he could dry out and recover without the intrusion of the paparazzi. Someplace where there were no painful memories of Bella or Ty, no friends who might encourage him to keep partying, no enticements from film-industry types to make another movie before he was ready.
She was sure he had other houses in America they could go to, but she didn’t want an army of domestic workers taking note of everything that transpired, either.
They needed privacy, support, protection and a change of scenery. Given all that, the answer became obvious. “I’ve got it,” she said.
Ian narrowed his gaze. “You’ve got what?”
Her father wouldn’t like it. Neither would her brother and her friends. They were already convinced she was making the biggest mistake of her life. Even Simon would object. They’d all reject one another—at first. But the people who loved her were good people. They’d made her whole and happy despite her mother’s defection. They’d been there when she needed them most. And they were still there for her.
Simon needed rock-solid commitment from the right sorts of friends and associates and for the right reasons. He needed to figure out what really mattered in life and what he wanted out of his own.
She couldn’t think of a better place to do that than Whiskey Creek. “I’m taking him home.”
13
When Simon woke up, he found Ian and Gail sitting on either side of his bed, glaring at each other.
“Why all the hostility?” he muttered.
Gail came to her feet. “What hostility?”
Whatever they’d given him made him groggy, but even then he could tell she was covering up. “You two act like you want to choke each other.”
“So what’s new?” She laughed, and Ian did, too, but their eyes were cold when they met and their smiles seemed brittle.
“Something. I can feel it.” He glanced between them. “I thought we’d called a truce, that we were all playing on the same team again.”
“We are,” Gail told him. “Ask anyone—you and I are madly in love and having wild sex at your Beverly Hills mansion. Everything is fine. Right on track.”
Except that she was treating him like he’d lost his mind—was probably wondering what kind of crazy man she’d gotten involved with.
Damn… Somehow, despite all his good intentions and effort, he’d screwed up again. “Wild sex, huh? That’s what they think?”
“How do you feel?” Ian stood up, too.
Simon had never seen his business manager so serious. “Drugged. What happened?”
“You don’t know?”
He lifted his right hand to examine the bandage that made his arm look liked it ended in a club. “Nurses told me I cut my hand. They said it wasn’t too bad, but they were somber as shit and it has to be more than a scratch or I wouldn’t be here, right?”
Gail bumped up against the steel rail of his bed. “You don’t recall the accident?”
He honestly didn’t. The last thing he remembered was getting a text from Bella—a short video of her having sex with some guy and a note that said, Ty’s new daddy. “No, I was exhausted, completely out of it.” He realized how that sounded and hurried to amend his words. “But I wasn’t drinking. At least…I’m pretty sure I wasn’t drinking.” He’d considered it. Had he given in?
“No, you weren’t drinking,” she said.
“There’s a bright spot.” He grinned, but when she didn’t lighten up he stopped trying to charm her. “So…what? Are you backing out? Cutting me loose?” Why wouldn’t she? He knew how this looked. He could tell by some of the questions the doctor had asked that he hadn’t called for help when he should have.
They wondered if he’d purposely hurt himself. And maybe he had. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to attempt suicide by power saw, but subconsciously he might’ve been sabotaging his own efforts to reform, or trying to save himself from failing through lack of willpower. He’d always been his own worst enemy. His father told him that all the time, even though it felt more like his father was his worst enemy. Their relationship had never been a strong one, but recently they’d become completely estranged.
He let his eyes slide closed. “You’re off the hook, if you want.”
He expected her to jump at the chance, provided he agreed to a stipulation that saved her business, but she surprised him.
“That’s not what I want.”
Opening his eyes, he found her and Ian watching him a little too closely. He nearly assured them he was stable, that he could cope with whatever he had to, but he’d been saying that for too long. His actions hadn’t backed it up, so why bother? “Then, what is?”
She nibbled at her bottom lip. “I want to take you to Whiskey Creek.”