Just Like Mom’s had purple walls, white ruffled curtains and half a dozen high chairs lined up at the entrance. The booths around the perimeter of the main dining area were done in lavender vinyl; the country-style oak tables in the middle of the floor had chairs sporting cushions with big bows that could only have been hand-sewn. Simon had never seen a restaurant that reminded him more of his grandmother’s house. Not that he’d been able to spend much time there. Grandma Moffitt had been too upset about the circumstances of his birth to ever fully forgive his mother, and him by extension. She preferred her other grandkids, who were girls. But he’d always secretly liked the homey comfort of her rambler in Palm Springs.
“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Gail murmured over the bell that jingled when they walked in.
The place wasn’t crowded, but it was doing a brisk business for eight o’clock on a Sunday night. “Pot roast,” he said.
“Mildred Davies makes the best meat loaf and beef stew imaginable. I’m sure the pot roast isn’t bad, either.”
Through the two-foot opening where the food came out, he saw a short, round woman with a cap of snow-white hair directing traffic in the kitchen. “That’s the cook? Mildred Davies?”
“Cook and owner,” Gail said. “As you can tell, she’s getting on in years but she manages to keep up. After dinner you’ll have to try her carrot cake. Delicious.”
“Maybe I’ll start with it.” Somehow, he felt younger, more innocent and certainly more content than the man he’d been in L.A. Either the paparazzi couldn’t find him or they’d been unwilling to make such a long drive on the off chance of picking up a detail or two about his private life. He hadn’t heard from Bella for twenty-four hours. He had less craving for alcohol than at any previous point since giving it up. And, best of all, for the first time since the event that had caused him to unravel, he was gaining confidence that he’d be able to do what was necessary to get Ty back.
It wasn’t until he thought of his father’s visit yesterday morning, and the possibility of running into Tex in Whiskey Creek, that some of the old anger and uneasiness returned. His father seemed to appear every time Simon began to get on his feet.
But he wasn’t going to let Tex provoke him. Tex could sue if he wanted. Simon would gladly pay restitution for any financial loss he caused the producers of Hellion, but he wouldn’t allow his father to ruin his life yet again. He wasn’t ready to jump back into the world that had nearly driven him crazy. Ty was the prize. Ty—not another movie or another fifty million dollars.
Once he was granted custody, even if it was only partial, maybe he’d bring Ty to Whiskey Creek. They could spend their summers here enjoying Gail’s friendship, whenever she came home, and maybe the friendships of some of the people he’d met at the coffee shop. He and Ty could forget the opulence and excesses associated with his career, they could play baseball, eat at this tacky but homey restaurant, check out the old-fashioned soda fountain down the street, hike in the mountains....
Simon wanted to take Gail’s hand, to communicate his gratitude for all she’d done. Despite his initial skepticism, her involvement in his life had made a huge difference. But ever since they’d left the house, she’d been careful not to so much as brush against him, which felt odd, considering. At first, he thought he was only imagining the change. But the more minutes that went by without physical contact, the more convinced he became that she was doing it on purpose. She was determined not to expect him to act like a boyfriend.
He appreciated that she wasn’t suddenly clingy. Their current arrangement was what he’d asked for from the start. Now he had what he wanted, and yet her withdrawal bothered him. In his opinion, she was being too vigilant about making sure there was no emotional spillover. Why couldn’t they just relax and do and say as they pleased for the time being?
He was about to broach the subject. He wasn’t ready for Gail to raise her defenses again. It’d been too long since he’d felt close to anyone, and he wasn’t willing to lose it so soon.
But the hostess, a middle-aged woman who wore a purple uniform with a tag that said Tilly, approached before he could bring it up. Her mouth formed an O the minute she recognized him, but she cleared her throat and addressed Gail. “Two for dinner?” she said in a gravelly smoker’s voice.
Gail seemed amused by the hostess’s reaction to his presence. He was amused by it himself. True to Whiskey Creek form, she didn’t gush over him or ask for his autograph, but she was obviously flustered.
“Hi, Tilly,” Gail said.
“Great to see you back,” the waitress responded.
“It’s great to be home. We’d like a booth, please.”
Pressing a hand to her chest as if her heart was beating too fast, Tilly glanced at Simon, but looked away as soon as he met her eyes. “Right this way.”
She took two menus from the holder but dropped one. When Simon caught it before it could hit the floor and gave it back, she muttered, “Oh, my God. I can’t believe this.”
Gail sent Simon a conspirator’s smile as Tilly marched ahead of them, but someone else hailed her before they could reach their seats.
“Gail!”
Simon turned at the same time Gail did to see Callie, the friend who’d made it clear she wasn’t happy to have Simon in Gail’s life, sitting at a table—with Matt.
* * *
Gail wasn’t sure how to react. Simon wouldn’t want to be waylaid by Matt or Callie, but Callie was one of her best friends, and nothing had happened between her and Matt that prevented them from being friends, too. They’d never even been a couple.
Still, it felt awkward to stand and talk at their table, and even more awkward when Callie put her on the spot by insisting she and Simon join them.
“Are you sure?” Gail asked. “I mean...haven’t you already ordered?”
“Not yet. We got here just before you.” The way Callie said it led Gail to suspect this might be a test to see how she’d react now that she was married to Simon.
Gail didn’t want Callie to think having Simon as her husband would make her any less receptive to her friends. “In that case...” She nearly sent Simon an apologetic glance, but knew Callie and Matt would see it, too, and recognize it for what it was. So she didn’t look at him. She returned Callie’s smile as she accepted, and even though Callie slid over, making a place for her, she sat on Matt’s side. With Simon’s right hand still bandaged, he needed to eat with his left. And Matt was so big she couldn’t imagine cramming another guy into the booth next to him.
“Have you eaten here since you’ve been back?” Gail could feel Simon’s gaze on her as she addressed Matt.
The glower that had descended on Matt’s face when Simon approached the table eased, as if he’d won a small victory when she sat beside him. “Once. I plan to come as often as possible before I have to leave.”
Gail took the menu Tilly handed her. “When will that be?”
“Whenever I’m capable of running without pain.”
“It’s terrible what happened to your knee. How’s the therapy going?”
“Okay. At least I get to be home while I do it.”
Tilly gave Simon his menu as Gail asked, “Who are you working with? Curtis?”
“Yeah.”
Curtis Viglione was one of the best therapists in the country. He saw a lot of professional athletes. After building a reputation and a considerable clientele in the San Francisco Bay Area, he’d moved to Whiskey Creek three or four years ago—Gail couldn’t remember exactly when. Now he had athletes come to his state-of-the-art center built in the hills about a mile outside town. “From what I hear, he’s a miracle worker. Sounds like you’re in great hands.”
Matt nodded, but his eyes kept moving to Simon, who was glaring at him. Why Simon would bother with this little rivalry, Gail couldn’t say. There was no point in acting possessive or jealous when he didn’t really care about her. But she figured it might be part of what he felt was expected of a husband, another aspect of playing his role.
Regardless, it made her uncomfortable. She wanted her friends to like him, although she couldn’t put her finger on exactly why. Maybe it was just so they wouldn’t think she was foolish for marrying him.
She cleared her throat to gain Simon’s attention. “What looks good?” she asked, but he didn’t get a chance to answer. Tilly was still standing at the table, waiting to tell them about the daily specials. She rattled off a spiel about homemade chili and corn bread for $8.99 and beef Stroganoff with sour cream for $12.99. Then she announced that Luanne would be their server and, when she couldn’t seem to think of anything else to say, finally left.
In her peripheral vision, Gail could see Tilly whispering to two waitresses at the coffee machine. They kept turning to look at Simon, no doubt excited to have a movie star in their midst. But Gail was too wrapped up in manufacturing small talk to pay much more attention than that.
“How’s business at the studio, Callie?” she asked.
“Busy. I’ve been doing lots of family portraits. And a few weddings.”
“You’re a photographer?” Simon asked.
“I am.” She offered him a fake smile. “I would’ve been happy to photograph you and Gail at your wedding—but of course you didn’t really have one.”
Gail jumped in before Simon could respond. “We wanted to keep it simple.”
“You certainly accomplished that,” Callie said. “It doesn’t get any simpler than a few vows and ‘I do.’”
Luanne showed up with water for Gail and Simon; Callie and Matt already had theirs. She said she’d be back to take their order in a few minutes, but Gail caught her before she could leave, insisting they were ready now. They hadn’t even looked at the menu, but she wanted to get this dinner over with as soon as possible.
They all fell silent while they quickly perused the meal selections. Then Gail ordered the meat loaf, Simon the pot roast, and Callie and Matt went for the chili. After Luanne left, Matt spoke up. “So...how’s married life?”
Simon gave him a smile that, to Gail’s eye, looked a little too deliberately satisfied. “Second time’s the charm.”
“Too bad it didn’t work out that way for your father. How many times has he been married, anyway?”
Gail winced at Matt’s choice of subject, and the derision in his voice. She doubted he’d heard, but the fact that Tex was in town somehow made it worse.
“I haven’t kept track,” Simon said.
“Are you two planning to have children?” Callie asked.
Were her friends purposely trying to embarrass Simon? Gail answered, just in case. “Probably not.” She’d wanted to limit the conversation on that subject by sounding resolved. But she’d seemed too reconciled to not having kids. She could instantly tell that Callie was not pleased with her response.
“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.