“Why not?” her friend demanded.
“Simon already has a son,” she replied, but that didn’t help.
“So?” Callie set her water down so fast it sloshed over the sides. “What about you? You’ve always wanted children.”
Gail lowered her voice. “You don’t have to be so defensive of me, Callie. I’m happy the way I am. Besides…maybe we will have children someday. We’re merely saying we don’t have any immediate plans, okay?”
Callie scowled at Simon. “Just because you’ve had it all and done it all doesn’t mean you don’t have to consider her.”
Instead of getting angry, as Gail expected, Simon validated Callie’s concern. “I understand that,” he said.
His calm answer seemed to take the fire out of Callie’s anger. “She’s one of my best friends, you know? I care about her. I want her to be happy.”
“So do I,” Simon said, and he sounded so sincere Gail almost applauded.
“Great.” Gail used her napkin to mop up the water Callie had spilled. “You both care about me. I couldn’t be in better hands. Now…maybe you can try to get along? Because that’s what would make me happiest.”
A sulky expression turned down the corners of Callie’s lips.
“We’re already married, Callie.” Gail leaned across the table to squeeze her hand. “I know you’re mad that I didn’t take your advice, but…it’s over. Can we leave it for the time being?”
Her friend sighed audibly. “I’m just afraid your happiness won’t last.”
If she only knew… “So you’re going to ruin it?”
“No.”
“Hollywood marriages hardly ever succeed.” Matt volunteered this, but it was unclear whether he was inviting responses or simply stating a fact.
Regardless of what he meant, Gail warned Simon with a look not to put Matt in his place. Simon could’ve said quite a bit about the world of a professional athlete. But what was the point? Matt was right; Hollywood marriages rarely did last, and this one would turn out to be the perfect example. “Okay, everyone’s aired their complaints and expressed their worry, and it’s all been duly noted by me. Can we please enjoy our dinner without making me regret that I’ve asked my husband to sit through this?”
Callie and Matt nodded grudgingly, but it wasn’t long before they were enjoying themselves. When Simon started regaling them with stories about some of the unusual and out-of-the-way locations he’d gone to shoot movies, and the stunts he’d had to perform without a double, Matt dropped all animosity. Soon, he was so mesmerized he was talking and laughing as if he’d never viewed Simon as a competitor.
When Simon got up to go to the bathroom, Gail expected Callie to tell her again why she’d been crazy to marry him. But she didn’t. “He can be charming,” she admitted instead. Her tone implied she had to allow him that much.
Simon had done his best to win them over, and he’d managed it quite easily. He’d had them all laughing, gasping in astonishment, asking questions and generally hanging on every word he said. When Matt seemed more interested in becoming Simon’s friend than in pouting over losing her, Gail knew his reaction to her marriage hadn’t been one of true regret. If she had her guess, he’d been miffed to find that the girl he’d thought would always be waiting for him had actually moved on—and that she hadn’t settled for someone less famous, less attractive or less charismatic than he was. He’d been reacting to the blow her defection had dealt his ego more than anything else, which meant that even after she and Simon divorced there’d be no Matt and Gail.
After all the years she’d believed herself in love with him, that was a little depressing. But she’d learned about her own commitment to Matt, too. She doubted she would’ve wanted Simon so badly today if she’d really been so enamored of Matt. He’d just made a good dream, given her someone to think about while she was working too hard to date.
“He’s a lot of fun,” Gail said, and stood up to go to the restroom, too. She didn’t want her friends to quiz her on how she felt about Simon or ask pointed questions in his absence. She had too many conflicting emotions at the moment, didn’t want to acknowledge that what she felt for Simon seemed far more powerful than what she’d felt for Matt. That made her fear she wouldn’t get over him quite so readily when the time came…
Simon was just walking out of the men’s room as she reached the entrance to the ladies’.
“Great job,” she murmured. “They love you.”
“More important, are they convinced I care about you?”
“Completely! They bought every compliment you paid me.”
His smile disappeared. “But you didn’t.”
“I would’ve if I hadn’t known better. You’re a hell of an actor.”
He took her arm. “Being an actor doesn’t mean I’m always acting, Gail.”
Averting her gaze, she put her hand on the door. “But it certainly comes in handy when you need to,” she said.
25
It came as a surprise in the middle of the night. One minute Simon was lying next to Gail. The next they were awakened by the sound of movement, a bright light and then a series of flashes from just outside the window.
Cameras! Simon understood what was happening as soon as he opened his eyes. He’d known staying in an empty house with no window coverings would leave them vulnerable. But they’d had it so good since coming to Whiskey Creek, he’d grown complacent.
“What’s going on?” Gail asked, sounding confused.
He rolled over to shield her. “Paparazzi.”
Fortunately, they were both dressed. They’d come home from the restaurant, watched some television on Hulu and eventually fallen asleep. Simon had wanted to strip off Gail’s clothes, to feel her skin against his while they dozed off. But things weren’t the same after the restaurant. What she’d said while they were talking outside the restrooms had set him back, made him realize that she’d taken his remark—that he wasn’t capable of falling in love—to mean that he’d never feel any fondness or concern for her, either.
“They’ve found us,” he said, and shuttled her into the hall.
She hugged herself. It was chilly without blankets. “How?”
“Don’t know. Someone here in Whiskey Creek must’ve leaked the information.”