“He had some things to do this morning. I came without him.”
He smelled of booze. Those eyes and the sallow look of his face also told her he’d spent the previous night drinking.
“The question is why,” he said.
“If you invite me in I’ll explain.”
The rasp of whiskers sounded as he rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’m not exactly dressed for company, but if you want—”
“I’ll wait.” She had no desire to see Simon’s father in his boxers.
He chuckled softly. “I heard you were a real prude.”
“Ian tell you that?”
“Among other things.”
He kept laughing, but the door closed and didn’t open again until he was dressed. “Madame…” he said, his voice filled with sarcasm as he waved her inside.
He hadn’t combed his hair. It stood up in front, gray but still thick despite his age. She could see why some women would find him appealing. He had a devil-may-care attitude that probably attracted the type of women who liked that sort of challenge. And he still had a good physique. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to see if you care about your son at all,” she said.
Her statement took him off guard. Obviously he hadn’t expected her to be so direct. He straightened for a second—and then his eyes narrowed. “What the hell has that got to do with anything?”
“It’s the only thing that matters.”
“Not when it comes to business.”
His room now smelled like cologne. Too much of it. “When it comes to everything.”
He finished buttoning his shirt. He wore that and a pair of jeans but not his belt or boots. “What are you hoping to achieve, Ms. DeMarco?”
She noted that he didn’t do her the courtesy of using her married name. It was probably his way of letting her know he didn’t think she’d be with Simon very long. He was right. But she didn’t care what he was trying to intimate.
“Simon is doing better than he has in at least two years. I want that to continue. So I’m asking you to leave Whiskey Creek without further contact and find someone else to take his part in the movie.”
A thunderous expression appeared on his face. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m his wife.” For now…
“I don’t give a shit. Do you realize how much—”
“That will cost?” she broke in. “I know it’ll be a lot. I also know that Simon will compensate you.”
“It’s not just me. It’s the people I convinced to invest in this. I have a responsibility to them.”
“If they’re like you, they have plenty of money. Fortunately, so does he. He’ll repay you, and you can return what you’d like to your investors. But I’m asking you to let him out of the contract gracefully and not retaliate by dragging him into court.”
“My friends won’t be happy. Hardly any other actor has the same pull.”
She couldn’t help it; she raised her voice. She’d told herself this was a business meeting. She was here to protect the campaign she’d developed, to ensure its ultimate success. But it had become personal, too, because she cared about Simon. “Your friends don’t matter as much as your son! Could you do what’s best for him for a change? Just once?”
He threw up his hands. “Why should I? Simon’s never given a shit about me!”
That was an excuse. He had to know it, at least in some part of his brain. “I’m afraid you have that reversed, Mr. O’Neal. It’s you who should give a shit about him.”
Shaking his head, he laughed without mirth. “He’s sure got you snowed, doesn’t he? Don’t you realize it’s just a question of time before he acts out again regardless of what I do? Regardless of what you do? What’s it been—two or three months since he stumbled into a bar, got drunk and started a fight? I may as well look after my friends and my money because Simon will go to hell in a handbasket no matter how hard you try to save him. He’s the most stubborn son of a bitch I’ve ever met. And here you are, sticking up for him. He wouldn’t thank you for it. You know that, right? Trust me on this—he’s going to leave you with a broken heart, just like he did Bella.”
“The divorce wasn’t entirely his fault, and you, of all people, know it.” In spite of Simon’s past sins, Gail was clinging to the loyalty she felt to him. She was also relying on what Ian had intimated to her earlier, that Bella had done more to cause the divorce than anyone knew. She hoped to hell Ian was right, because she was determined to make some headway with Simon’s father.
She expected Tex to continue arguing with her. But he didn’t. He stepped back as if she’d slapped him, and a strange look came over his face. “He told you?”
Gail’s heart began to pound. Simon hadn’t told her anything particularly revealing. But she wasn’t willing to admit it, wasn’t about to let the power swing back to Tex. There was something at play here, something that affected everyone involved. What? “Of course he did,” she bluffed. “He tells me everything.”
“Then you should also know that she came on to me.” Tex brought a hand to his chest for emphasis. “She was the one who wanted me in her bed.”
Gail gaped at him. Had she heard correctly? She was sure of it, and yet she couldn’t believe what had just come out of his mouth. “You had sex with Bella?”
He winced at the disgust in her voice but rallied. “It was a one-time thing. It didn’t mean squat to either of us. She’d gotten in the habit of coming to me whenever she was upset. I helped her, gave her a shoulder to cry on. Simon’s not easy to live with. If you don’t know that yet, you’ll—”
“When?” She was so shocked her voice had dropped to a whisper. “When did you do this?”
He cursed under his breath. “Two and a half years ago.”
That was about the time Simon had started behaving badly. It was the reason he’d been unable to cope. His wife had had an affair with his own father, a sad echo of what had happened with his mother, and just as reprehensible. What was wrong with Tex? Did he have to be admired by every woman he met?
She swallowed hard. “How did Simon find out?”
Tex stared at her so long she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then his shoulders slumped and he sighed. “He came home unexpectedly.”