“It’s just that I know it’s hard. Losing someone, I mean.” His voice cracked with genuine emotion. “And you want to honor who they were, especially if you loved them. But that doesn’t mean death made them right about things.”
“You want to try talking in English? Because right now, this is gibberish.”
“I only mean that just because your dad said that your family didn’t value him, and that no one gave a flip about him except through your family, doesn’t mean it was really true. And even if it was, that doesn’t mean it’s true for you.” Lyle wiped the back of his neck with his towel as he stopped jogging. Then he dropped it on the beach and sat on it. “Or for Kelsey.”
Wyatt took a second, then sat, too. He didn’t answer; he just looked out over the ocean as he thought of Kelsey, a woman he really shouldn’t want, but couldn’t get out of his head.
The truth was, he’d never wanted to believe that she was only interested in his connection to Hollywood. He sure as hell hadn’t believed it that summer, not during all the time they’d been secretly dating. But that didn’t mean that his father’s words weren’t fresh in his head. And when he’d found his dad’s body on the very day that he’d overheard Grace spewing her venom—
Well, he’d been angry.
Angry and, maybe, a little stupid.
He tilted his head back, looking up at clear blue California sky as he remembered Kelsey’s words from just the other day. “When I left, you didn’t even try to come after me.”
She’d surprised him with that accusation. Because if she’d really been playing him, then how could he possibly have hurt her?
And the fact is, her claim wasn’t entirely true, anyway. A few weeks later, after he was settled in Boston and had cooled down and his father’s funeral was behind him, he had tried to find her. Tried, but failed.
First, he’d tried contacting her school. But she’d transferred, and the administration office either didn’t know where she’d gone or wasn’t willing to tell.
He’d had no luck by following her dad, either. Patrick managed to find out where Leonard Draper had gone to work after the club, but when Wyatt tried to reach him there, he learned that the man had never shown up.
All of which had made him think that maybe there was something bigger going on. A family thing. An emergency. Something.
But then Grace’s words returned to haunt him. Because even if there had been an emergency, wouldn’t Kelsey have at least called him? But she didn’t. She’d run out of the party, and she’d never looked back.
At first he’d been afraid that he’d pressured her. But then, once he heard Grace, he’d believed that Kelsey had played him. And that painful conclusion had settled deep into his gut, then rotted there for twelve long years.
He’d been an ass.
He’d believed Grace over his heart. Because he’d seen Kelsey. He knew her, inside and out.
And he knew damn well that the only time she wanted a spotlight was when she was dancing.
So why had he listened to rumors instead of his own heart? His own head?
Because he’d been an insecure teenager.
So what did that make him now? An insecure man?
He sighed, then turned back to Lyle. “She messes with my head. She always has. And when she walked into my studio, part of me wanted to kick her out even while another part wanted to kiss her senseless.”
He picked up a handful of sand, then let it spill out through his fingers. “She got under my skin twelve years ago, and she’s stayed there.”
“Because she pissed you off? Or because she hurt you?” Wyatt cocked his head. “Why does it matter?”
“Pissed off is anger, and you can be angry at anyone. You don’t have to care about the guy who cuts you off when you’re trying to make a left turn, right?” He opened his water bottle and took a long swallow. “But hurt—well, if you don’t care about someone, they can’t hurt you.”
“Then it was both,” he said. And maybe that was the problem. He’d been angry at her for so long. But she’d hurt him, too. So deeply it had scarred his heart.
And ever since she’d come back into his life, he’d been walking a line. Wanting to punish her for the past. And for the present, too. For the way she was messing with his head.
But at the same time, he needed her for the show.
And damned if all of that mixed together didn’t scare her right out of his studio.
“I need her back,” he said flatly, then turned and looked at his friend. “I don’t trust her—not completely—but I need her.”
“So get her back. She still needs the money, right?”
“As far as I know.”
Lyle nodded. “That’s one thing in your favor. Have you called her?”
“Three times. She hasn’t called me back.”
“What about going by where she works? She left a resume, right?”
“Actually, no. Just a headshot and her phone number. But I know she teaches kindergarten and dance.”
Lyle cocked his head. “How do you know that?”
“I saw her in the Beverly Center a few years ago, and so I did some digging. My friend Ryan’s good at finding information. He tracked her down to an elementary school. It was summer, though, so only the administration office was open. They wouldn’t give me her address, but they told me she taught dance during the summer to little kids and gave me the name of the studio.”
“And?”
“And I went, but she didn’t work there anymore. They didn’t know where she’d gone.”
“So you went back to Ryan,” Lyle guessed.
“Actually, I gave up. She’s the one who moved back to LA. She knew how to find me. But she didn’t. So I decided I just needed to let it go.”
“Right,” Lyle said. “And how’s that working out for you?” Wyatt scowled, and Lyle laughed.
“Well, don’t worry. It’s a small town. And Evelyn will be at the party tonight,” he added, referring to his agent. “Between her and your grandmother, they know everyone in the business. Don’t worry. Someone will convince her not to dodge you.”
Wyatt laughed bitterly. “Yeah, but that’s only half the trick. Once we do, I have to convince her to come back.”
Too bad he didn’t have a clue how to do that.
17
“I get why you walked out on him,” Nia says as she stabs a fork into her Cobb salad with no avocado, no cheese, no egg, no bacon, and no dressing. “But you do realize that you were also walking out on fifteen large?”
“Sixteen,” I say, then grimace. “Wyatt offered to pay what would have been my winnings from the strip club, but I told him to keep his money.”
She flashes one of her superior looks, the kind that only a woman as perfectly sculpted as Nia can pull off. “Did you lose your common sense in your sofa cushions? What is wrong with you?”
“He makes me frazzled,” I admit, because there really is no other explanation. “He always has.”
She reaches across the table and stabs three of my French fries with her fork.
“Hey!” I protest. “If you’re hungry, try eating a salad with actual food in it.”
“I have a bikini shoot coming up. I’m dieting.”
I stare pointedly at the fries.