Had he heard her correctly? “Isn’t that where your family lives?” He didn’t bother hiding the skepticism in his voice.
“That’s right.”
“We already discussed it.”
“We did, but…” She folded her arms, which told him she was anticipating a fight. “A few things have changed since then and…now I think it’s imperative to the success of our marriage.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why? What difference does it make whether or not I meet your family? Are you trying to drive me to drink?”
He thought she could at least smile at his joke, give him credit for the effort he was putting into pretending he was okay, but Ian piped up before she could react.
“It’ll mean canceling everything you’ve got going for the next three months.”
So Ian wasn’t excited about this change of plan.... Simon rubbed the beard growth on his chin. “I’ll miss starting my next movie.”
“Yes.”
“That’s a long time to be in Whiskey Creek.”
Gail stood taller. “Given your injury and our wedding, you have a good excuse, a believable excuse, to clear your schedule without losing face. Take the out. It’ll only make our marriage look more genuine.”
He scowled at her. “How is Whiskey Creek going to do that?”
“It’ll suggest you care enough to spend time with me and my family. And dropping out of public view will ultimately make it easier for you to regain custody of Ty.”
The sex video Bella had sent and those taunting words—Ty’s new daddy—floated to the forefront of Simon’s brain. The images turned his stomach. But it was the idea of the man who was screwing his ex-wife replacing him as his son’s father that hurt, as Bella knew it would. “You really believe it would make enough of a difference?”
“You couldn’t go wrong in Whiskey Creek even if you wanted to.”
He could go wrong anywhere. He’d proven it. But…she seemed so convinced and, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was starting to trust her, certainly more than Ian. Ian had his strengths, but she was smarter, more disciplined. Just what he needed at the moment. “What would I do there?”
“Anything you want. I saw the playhouse you’ve been building. It’s amazing! You like working with wood. Why don’t we rent a house while you build us a bigger one?”
Building a house with his own two hands had always appealed to him. He felt a flutter of excitement, the first in a long, long while—but Simon refused to succumb to it. He didn’t want to be disappointed. “Are you setting me up?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your dad’s going to hate me.”
“He already does,” she said. “So does my brother. But you can win them over. You can win anyone over.”
She was offering him a chance to be a regular person for a while, a chance to step out of the limelight and catch his breath.
“This’ll cause damage to certain key relationships,” Ian warned. “You’re booked solid. And if I have to buy your way out of your next movie, it’ll be pricey.”
True, but his sanity was worth any amount. Simon had learned firsthand that even piles and piles of money couldn’t buy happiness. That cliché was a cliché for a reason.
“The producers of Hellion will freak out if you postpone too long,” Ian went on. “It’ll put them in trouble with the rest of the cast, studio time, everything.”
“If they can’t wait, they’ll have to find someone else,” Simon said.
“Seriously?” Ian looked stupefied.
Simon couldn’t imagine trying to make a movie in his current state of mind. “Seriously.” He turned to Gail. “Okay, we’ll go to Whiskey Creek.”
“You’ll do it?” She sounded skeptical, and he couldn’t blame her.
He thought of all the hours he’d spent aching for his son while standing or sitting in Ty’s room. Maybe it was time for a radical change. “Why not? Let your dad take his best shot.”
* * *
They needed to get married before doing anything else. Only if Simon was legally bound to her and couldn’t be easily relegated to the “temporary” category would Whiskey Creek even begin to accept him. Gail understood that, which meant they had to change the proposed timeline of their “courtship.”
Because she’d never been engaged and had no idea of the process required to make a marriage legal, she used her smartphone while sitting at Simon’s bedside to go online and figure out what they’d need to do to get a license.
Fortunately, it was going to be easy. As long as they had proper ID and proof of the dissolution of Simon’s marriage, they could pay a fee, get a license on the spot and be married shortly after. No need for a blood test; no need to go to Vegas.
But they had to appear at the county clerk’s office together, and Simon hadn’t yet been released from the hospital so it wouldn’t happen today.
Ian had stayed, too, although Simon was too drugged to do much talking. Mostly, he slept. There were moments when Gail was tempted to leave so she could prepare for their big move. But the number of hospital personnel who popped into the room bothered her. They all came in and fiddled with this or that, pretending to be on official business. However, Gail was convinced they were merely gawking at the big movie star, which felt wrong since he wasn’t even aware of them.
How many times did a guy with stitches need to be checked? she wondered. It wasn’t as if Simon had had a heart attack or any other problem that required such close monitoring. He just needed to catch up on his sleep, and medicating him made sure he was able to do that.
“Word is spreading,” she told Ian as the door closed on yet another visitor.
Simon’s business manager sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. “What are you talking about?” he asked, looking up.
“That’s the fifth nurse to come in here in under an hour.”
“I know. He’d probably be getting a blow job by now if you weren’t here.”
She could tell by the sulk in Ian’s voice that he was no longer happy to be involved with her. He’d expected her to keep Simon productive so that the next two years would run smoothly. Instead, she was pulling his client out of circulation. “Simon doesn’t need a blow job. He needs a break from all the celebrity worship and scrutiny.”