Playing the Part. Kimberly Meter Van
a shine to you....”
“Yeah? That’s cool. I take back what I said about the devil juice. She’s obviously a kid with a great judge of character.”
“Uh...yeah, about that,” he continued, uncomfortable. “Here’s the thing, I’m just going to give it to you straight—”
“Great. I hate when people blow smoke up my ass. Makes me burp.”
At that he almost laughed and she was struck by how handsome he could be when he wasn’t acting like a stiff jackass. She regarded him with as much seriousness as she could muster. She was already bored with the conversation—mostly because she had a feeling whatever he was struggling to tell her wasn’t going to make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside—and she wanted to get it over with.
“You have to understand, my daughter is very impressionable and it’s not personal, really, but—”
“Oh wait, this sounds like a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ conversation, which is funny because we’re not even dating. Also funny because I’m usually the one delivering that line.”
He flushed and shot her a short look as if to say, will you stop interrupting so I can finish this difficult conversation? But she was way ahead of him and simply said with a sigh, “I get it. You don’t want her hanging out with someone as ultracool as me—an almost famous celebrity—because you wouldn’t want to set her up with an unreal expectation of what life can be like. I get it. It’s okay.” She patted him on the shoulder. “But honestly, Gabe— Can I call you Gabe? Okay. Good. Here’s the thing. I think we should give kids a high bar to reach for. You know? So they can rise to the occasion. But that’s just me. You do what you feel is right. She’s your kid.”
And with that, she left him, staring with his jaw open slightly and a serious what-the-eff just happened? look on his face. And Lindy tried not to laugh.
Lindy left a lot of people with that very same expression. She suspected one particular director had pegged it precisely: she simply didn’t accept anything she didn’t want to hear and therefore created her own reality.
Now that she thought about it, maybe she had more in common with Pops than she realized.
Huh. Interesting.
But she had to admit Gabe Weston was not hard on the eyes. Not at all, she thought as she grabbed her beach towel and sunscreen.
Too bad she didn’t date guys with kids. That was a deal-breaker in her book.
No matter how hot they were.
No matter how much she kinda liked the kid.
No. Matter. No. How.
Rules were rules, which ordinarily she delighted in breaking, unless they were her own rules, then she stuck to them religiously.
Yep. She was funny like that.
She spied Lilah and waved. “Hey, wanna hit the beach with me?”
“You bet. Gimme a sec.” Lilah grinned with a nod before disappearing to grab her own towel and beach bag.
While she waited for her sister, Lindy’s gaze strayed in the direction of Bungalow 2 for just a minute, then she sighed.
What a tragedy.
Rules sucked.
* * *
GABE WAS FAIRLY certain the hot woman had just bamboozled him.
Worse, he wasn’t sure how it’d happened or how he’d allowed it to happen.
He supposed that was the foundation of a good bamboozle—the element of surprise.
Gabe was still thinking about Lindy when Carys came into view. She looked adorable in her pink bathing suit and for a moment he let his guard down. It didn’t matter how she infuriated him, the love he felt for this kid was beyond comprehension. She’d been their miracle child, part of the reason she was an only child. Charlotte had struggled to get pregnant and they’d gone through several IVF cycles to finally conceive. They used to joke that Carys had been their million-dollar baby because when it was all said and done, the medical bills had been astronomical.
“She better be the next president,” he’d joked a few months after Carys had been born and another wave of bills had come through. Charlotte, her blond hair tucked in a messy knot at the back of her head, simply graced the sleeping baby in her arms with an adoring smile and he forgot all about the dollar amount it’d taken to get their bundle of joy. All that had mattered was the love they all felt for this tiny person who’d come into their lives on a cloud of hopes and dreams. He’d pressed a kiss to her downy head, inhaling the soft sweet scent at her crown. “She’s worth every penny,” he’d admitted to Charlotte. Charlotte’s eyes had watered and she’d lifted her mouth to his, sealing their lips with an
emotion-filled kiss.
“You’re an amazing husband...and an even more amazing father,” she’d murmured. “I love you.”
Gabe closed his eyes, wincing against the hurt that always followed when he thought of Charlotte. It’d been a year since she’d died. Sometimes it felt as though it were yesterday. He shook himself free of the pain wrapping itself like a band around his chest and forced a smile for Carys’s benefit. “Hitting the beach?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Carys answered, for once giving him a straight answer instead of one laced with sarcasm. He took that as a good sign. “Wanna come with me?”
Doubly pleased that she thought to include him without his prompting, he agreed quickly. “Let me just go get my BlackBerry and—”
“No phone,” she returned with a faint scowl. “Can’t you go two minutes without your emails and whatever?”
He hesitated but he could see she was waiting for him to choose her over his work. It was an easy choice if a choice was given but that was the thing...he was the boss. He had to know what was happening at all times. A lot of lives depended on him making all the right decisions for the company. He knew this was a concept an eleven-year-old girl couldn’t possibly understand, but someday he hoped she might and forgive him for being a workaholic. “It’s not that simple, honey,” he said finally, hating the disappointment in her face. “But I tell you what, tonight at dinner...no phone at all. It’ll just be me and you. I promise.”
Carys regarded him with a knowing expression that bordered on distrust and it cut him to the core. Finally, she shrugged and started walking. “Whatever,” she added over her shoulder and he swore under his breath. He should’ve just agreed to leave his phone behind. What was an hour or two incommunicado? But it was too late now and he was expecting an important phone call, besides. He sighed and walked to the bungalow, his heart heavy. Things had to change. But how was he supposed to make it change if he couldn’t even spend the afternoon with his daughter without it devolving into a fight? He didn’t have an answer.
That was the problem. Lately, when it came to Carys, he never had the answer.
He missed his wife—her smile, her easygoing nature, her way of smoothing over the rough spots—but most of all, he missed the way his daughter was when Charlotte was alive.
Just as he’d been unable to prevent Charlotte from dying, he felt incapable of stopping the downward slide in his relationship with Carys. Soon, she’d leave behind the preteens and head straight into the dreaded teenage years and everyone always said those were worse. He groaned softly. He couldn’t even imagine.
He grabbed his phone and saw a missed call from the very person he’d been waiting for. “Damn,” he muttered and quickly checked his voice mail.
This call couldn’t wait. There was a three-hour time difference between here and California, which was where his office was located. With one final glance toward the beach, where he saw Carys setting up her beach gear, he quickly dialed his associate. He’d make it a brief call. Ten minutes tops.
Forty-five minutes