My Double Life: Wild and Wicked (14 page)

“No.” I shook my head, extra quiet in the hope it would bring his voice down a notch. “I’m not an outsider, Mr. Fraser. But
you
will become an outcast in your own family if you can’t see the way—”

“Utter horseshit, my dear,” he said with the withering condescension that had made him a force to be feared in this town. He didn’t need to shout. His anger iced the air until the almost fifty people milling around the bar went dead silent.

All staring.

At me.

Great.

He tipped his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “What do you know of a parent’s love? Your own mother doesn’t even speak to you.”

I wasn’t sure how he knew this about me—it was only partially true—but apparently he’d done a bit of digging. As a researcher, I understood the need for information, so I didn’t begrudge him this. It was a low blow, yes. But I saw it for what it was—the weak, tangential argument of a man who didn’t have a leg to stand on in a logical debate. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the chance to swoop in for the kill in this rhetorical battle because Trey had arrived in the kitchen just in time to hear his father yell at me.

And he did not look pleased. He barreled through the curious, still painfully silent crowd to stand between us, chest-to-chest with Thomas.

“Enough, Dad,” he bit out angrily. “Stay away from Courtney.”

The tension in the room was so thick it was worthy of a scene in one of their films. I might have appreciated the irony if my heart hadn’t been aching for Trey.

“I’m fine,” I assured him, hoping my meaningful look could communicate the need for public discretion. “We were just going to step outside to talk.”

I glanced back and forth from one set of dark, brooding eyes to the other. Neither man seemed inclined to follow my diplomatic nudge.

“Trey?” I appealed to the Fraser I trusted. The one who had given me the courage to jump into the fray in the first place. “Trust me. I’ve got this.”

And I did. How crazy was that? Thomas Fraser—the bear of the movie business—had unleashed his cool wrath on me and I hadn’t stuttered even once.

In fact, I wanted a chance to finish what I’d started with Trey’s father. A chance to break through that blustery exterior to the deep love I suspected was suppressed underneath. Couldn’t he hear the steadiness in my voice?

Trey’s jaw flexed as he leaned closer to his father. “If you come near her again, or threaten her livelihood in any way because of her dancing—”

He broke off midsentence, perhaps realizing he’d been about to publicly out me in front of a rapt crowd. Maybe he already had. I would bet I’d be the girl most often looked up on Google in Hollywood after tonight’s scene.

How could he do that to me? He’d promised to keep my secret. Betrayal pinched inside me even though I knew his father brought out the worst in him. Kind of like the way my mom used to pull out the worst in me. But I was done living in the shadow of parents. His. Mine. I was done.

“Maybe we should take this discussion somewhere private,” I urged. Neither of them so much as looked at me. They were locked in some kind of father-son struggle for dominance and I might as well have been invisible. And if I’d learned nothing else this past week, I totally understood I would never again allow myself to be invisible. A bit more forcefully, I said, “Or maybe I should just go.”

Still, Trey didn’t look away from his dad, his jaw clenched so hard he might break a crown. I knew if I pushed harder, he would back away, swoop me up and escort me out of here. But this thing with his dad would not go away. It would rule his mood for the rest of the night.

Likely much longer. Why couldn’t he see that he was letting this feud with his dad take over his life?

And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Turning on my heel, I set my drink on the nearest table and didn’t worry about whether or not I made a graceful exit. I finally felt comfortable in my own skin, only to realize I was more alone than ever.

14

“C
OURTNEY
,
WAIT
.” T
REY
KEPT
HIS
focus on the glimpses of navy blue darting and weaving through the paparazzi crowded outside the private mansion.

Courtney had taken off from the launch party without a glance back at him. But she had to wait for him to drive her home, didn’t she? His chest tightened at the thought that maybe she’d had it with his messed-up family and was ready to just punch out. Call a cab and be done with him. He hastened his step.

A few cameras turned her way as she hurried past the tabloid press. A couple of flashbulbs popped—shoot first and fill in the blanks later. Little did the photographers know, that shot of her leaving the party would probably pay the most by the time gossip from this event leaked.

Damn, but his dad had screwed him over. Again.

He ground his teeth together, veering off to one side to minimize the possibility of photos cropping up of the two of them together. Not that he cared about himself. But he didn’t want to jeopardize Courtney’s job at Sphere any more than he already had. He was so furious with his father he couldn’t see straight. How could the old man have purposely embarrassed her like that?

“Courtney?” He spotted her again near his SUV, which had been parked in a long line of expensive vehicles by the valets. Luckily he had a spare key on him.

She had her cell phone out, her fingers racing over the keypad while she studiously ignored him.

Not a good sign. Didn’t she know he’d only been trying to protect her?

He picked up his pace, jogging the rest of the way down the slight incline toward her. At least they’d be shielded from the view of any partygoers. The paparazzi hadn’t followed her and they hadn’t seen him. That bought him a little time.

“Hey.” He reached her side just as she slid her phone back into her small, beaded bag. “I’m sorry about what happened back there.”

She pursed her lips, not quite a frown, definitely not a smile.

“For what happened back there?” She folded her arms, her posture rigid. “You mean for ignoring my plea to let me handle your dad? Or for announcing to the world that I moonlight as a dancer?”

Confused, he shook his head, trying to keep an eye out for anyone headed their way. He was done with being the center of attention for the night. “I came in there to prevent my father from making a big scene and embarrassing you.”

“You can’t be serious.” She skimmed a dark lock of hair away from the eyes that had captivated him that very first day. “You realize you made the biggest scene of all, right?”

Guilt nipped as he was blasted by the possibility she might be right. Frustration crawled up the back of his neck at the thought that he could be as bad as his father, the growing awareness that he’d blown it tightening every vertebra in his back. He wanted to get out of here, away from the party, away from the long line of cars and the valets running back and forth—away from his life.

“In an effort to protect you and deflect my father’s interest in you, yes.” His head pounded with the memory of seeing his dad yell at her. Damn it, he knew better than to drag someone so vulnerable into his world. “When I heard him talk to you like that—” He ground his teeth together.

“Trey, I was holding my own with him.” She hugged herself against a cool gust of breeze. “I was calm. I was articulate. And I had him in a corner, which is the only reason he lashed out.” She rubbed her forehead just above her temple as she turned to lean against the bumper of the SUV. “I was on the verge of making him see he was dead wrong.”

Tough to imagine his father admitting that to anyone, let alone a woman he’d only just met.

“Dead wrong about what?” he asked, curious now that the high emotions had passed.

“About thinking he’s such a great parent.”

He leaned against the bumper beside her, close but not too close. He detected a new steeliness in her, a definite boundary between them.

“My dad won’t change.” He’d been around him long enough to know that. God, it had been pounded into his brain the hard way after so many years of giving the old man one opportunity after another to... Hell. Be a father instead of a dictator.

“And you know this because—?” She picked at the beads along the hem of her dress, the miniature bits of glass catching random patches of moonlight. “Has it ever occurred to you that you might be as hardheaded and stubborn as him?”

The accusation stabbed clear through him, the possibility too daunting to wrap his brain around. He’d never wanted to be compared to the old man. What would it mean if he’d inherited the things that ticked him off most about his father? He tried to shove the thought aside.

“Courtney, it was your idea to come to the gala and I brought you to make you happy.” He toed a stone with his shoe. “But I’ve known all along that it was a risk to get involved when my father is a powder keg and you’re—”

“What?” she prompted.

“Vulnerable to criticism.”

She snorted. “Insecure, you mean. Well, guess what?” She got to her feet. “I’m not insecure anymore. I’ve changed in a lot of ways since we met, Trey. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”

“That doesn’t mean you deserve to be fed to the lions on your first outing with me.”

In the distance, he saw a pair of headlights turn up the street.

“I’ve taken risks with you, Trey, because you mean—a lot to me. I’ve taken off the old mask and I’m ready to show you and everyone else the new me.”

She sounded steady as she said it, but the thought of her being intimidated because of him made him furious with himself. She meant a lot to him too, damn it. Too bad he hadn’t shown as much when it mattered most.

The sound of an engine grew and headlights came closer. He shuffled back a step to remain in the shadows.

“I don’t know what I was thinking.” He shook his head, wanting her to stay but feeling he didn’t deserve her. “I didn’t want my dad to yell at you, but in the end,” God, it sucked to admit it, “I was worse than him.”

She didn’t argue the point.

“I’ve been kept on the sidelines my whole life by people who were embarrassed by me,” she said. “And then by all my own insecurities, thanks to a mother who saw me as defective.” She stepped closer to the road and waved down the oncoming car. “I’m not going to be content to remain on the fringes anymore.”

A taxi rolled to a stop beside her.

Real worry clogged his throat. She’d called a
cab?

She stood there, watching his reaction or...just watching him. He didn’t have a flipping clue what he was supposed to do. Ask her not to go home alone?

“I don’t understand,” he admitted. “I’m just not sure how to...make this right.”

She touched his face in a gesture he understood all too well. He recognized the bittersweet farewell and the sadness in her eyes.

“I’m not living in the shadows again, Trey. And until you can get out from under the one looming over you, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea that we keep seeing each other.” She bit her lip but her voice was firm. “Talk to your father, Trey. See if you can both listen this time.”

He’d never seen it coming. Pretty Gray Eyes was breaking up with him on the shoulder of a dark Los Angeles street because he was too blind to look in a mirror and see himself clearly. She waited for him to respond and he was thankful the cab driver had kept his window rolled up. Hell, he didn’t know what else to do so he reached for his wallet and took out a fat bill for the cabbie. He rapped on the window and handed it to the guy along with a hoarse order to drive carefully.

Regret like a stone in his heart, he opened the door for her just as a bunch of flashbulbs went off behind him. Crap. They’d been spotted.

She shook her head as she slid inside the cab, ready to move on. “I’m sorry, Trey.”

The flashbulbs kept going but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him in the world was driving away in an anonymous yellow cab while he stood there like a sucker, not knowing up from down.

But Courtney had told him what he needed to do, and she was a smart woman. A woman he’d chosen as his financial advisor. Maybe it was time he started listening to her on another level, too. The time had come to make things right with his father.

* * *

A
MEETING
AT
the party was out of the question. The paparazzi had gotten wind of the drama in the kitchen and were hot to photograph all parties involved. But Trey had tipped a valet well to find his father and bring him out of the house another way.

Now, Trey waited in his vehicle two streets over and watched as the valet approached in a golf cart. Even in the dark, Trey could tell his dad was in the passenger seat. He was relieved the old man had sense enough to be reasonable about this. Part of him had feared the guy would walk right to the paparazzi and give them the inside scoop.

As the golf cart braked to a squeaking halt, Thomas Fraser II stepped out as easily as if he were climbing out of a limo, rolling off a few more bills for the valet, who had already made a small fortune from this mission.

Trey unlocked the passenger door so his father could get in. Once he was in the seat, he turned to his son with a dark look.

“Care to tell me why you are waiting around dark alleys for me instead of chasing after your girlfriend?” He pounded the dash with his fist for emphasis.

Would he ever understand this man?

“This isn’t just about me, Dad.” He needed to take ownership for his part in this mess. He owed it to Courtney to do what she asked. To listen. Putting the vehicle in gear, he tried to explain. “This is about both of us. I embarrassed her tonight and that’s my fault. But the way you and I can push each other to lash out—that’s our fault. Yours and mine.”

He didn’t expect his father to just roll over and admit his role. But maybe they could find some kind of peace. Courtney had thought it was possible, right? He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, not sure how he’d lost so much so fast. His head throbbed.

“I try to help you,” his father barked, the deep bass bouncing around the vehicle. “I got her to go to the party because I could tell you liked her. And you need a woman in your life, Trey. All you do is work.”

Surprise distracted him from the throbbing in his head. His father had noticed how hard he worked? Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Damn it, that was one more way he was like his dad, although he’d never fully appreciated the connection.

“You could tell I liked her because you have me followed and you check up on me all the time.” He couldn’t help the knee-jerk comment. It still ticked him off to have his dad’s security tailing him.

“A good father looks after his sons.”

That made him wonder how much his dad was watching over his brothers in the northern part of the state. And, even as he figured he should warn them, he had to admit it seemed like his father was coming at this from a point of...love.

Trey stopped at a red light and turned to look at the man who stirred up no end of trouble in his life and everyone else’s. A man who interfered constantly and thought he knew best. A man who’d passed on the very traits to Trey that had made Courtney leave him.

God, he needed to understand the old dude better. Because they were way too much alike. He couldn’t expect Courtney to give him a chance until he gave his father a chance.

He took a deep breath to say just that when he noticed a tear rolling down his dad’s cheek.

“Ah, hell.” Any other words died in his throat. How could he not have noticed how much his dad cared?

The epiphany slammed him back in his seat even harder than the knowledge that his father was genuinely upset. Sad. Maybe regretting what had happened nearly as much as Trey did.

Rattled as hell, Trey pulled over in front of a German bakery with tables out front where a late crowd had gathered for hot doughnuts.

He put the SUV in Park and shut off the engine. “What happened between you and Courtney?”

His father frowned. “She told me I undermine you publicly.” He studied his nails and straightened a heavy ring on his right hand. “That I did not give you enough acceptance.” Shrugging, he appealed to Trey. “What acceptance? I’ve fed you, clothed you and given you a start in the world. I’ve accepted my responsibilities.”

“I don’t think that’s what she meant.” Trey couldn’t help a wry smile at the image of Courtney taking the famous producer to task for his parenting. She really had grown a lot since they’d met, finding depths of strength he’d never guessed were inside her.

Now it was time that he did his fair share of growing up as well. “Dad?” he repeated. “What exactly did Courtney say to you at the party?”

Stroking his beard, his father looked out the window at the bakery. “She said I’d be an outsider in my own family if I didn’t...” He shook his head. “I don’t know what she was going to say next because that’s when I yelled. And right then, you came inside.”

Trey’s head throbbed and his chest felt vacant. That numbness again, crowding out the pain that awaited him once the events of this whole evening sank in.

“I didn’t listen to her very well either,” he admitted, recognizing yet another quality he’d inherited from his dad. “She told me she had things under control with you and I ignored her. She said I’m like you, and I couldn’t see it.”

“She said that?” His dad chuckled wryly. “I’ll bet that stung.”

All his life, he’d had friends side with his father when Trey got frustrated with him. They would insist the old man was well-meaning, and Trey would ignore them because no one understood what it was like to be raised by such a demanding, unyielding parent. Yet maybe they’d had a point. Yes, his dad had one hell of a backward way of showing love. But maybe Trey did too. He sure hadn’t shown it to Courtney the way she deserved.

“Yes. She said that.”

“You are like me.” His father pounded his own chest but he was smiling. “You can see this now.”

He saw it all right. He and his dad had both hurt Courtney tonight.

Trey stared at the guy who’d caused him no end of grief and told himself he was going to change. No more hardheaded pursuit of his own goals. No more film studio to rival his father’s.