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Nate left Linda in the hall without a second glance and quickened his pace. He had to get out of here before—
“Not so fast.” Roger’s deep voice stopped him in his tracks.
Dread coiled in Nate’s stomach when he saw the older man standing in the open doorway of what looked like an office. Judging by his expression, he’d heard everything.
Nate glanced over his shoulder; Linda was nowhere to be seen—she’d probably ducked into the bathroom after he walked away.Great.
No buffer. Just him and his girlfriend’s pissed off father.
He closed his eyes.
Tonight was not his night.
* * *
The grandfather clockticked in the corner, steady and loud as a jackhammer. The office smelled like leather and expensive cigar smoke, and unlike the rest of the Carreras’ pad, it was done up Old English style—big mahogany desk, wood-paneled walls hung with landscape paintings in gold frames, a Persian carpet that probably cost more than the Reynoldses’ monthly rent. The difference between this room and the mansion’s other airy, modern spaces was jarring.
Nate shifted in his chair and winced when the leather let out a loud creak.
Roger stared at him, the picture of authority and intimidation behind that massive desk. He hadn’t said a word since he’d asked (translation: ordered) Nate into his office ten minutes ago, and Nate was over this silent stare down they had going on.
“I think we should head back out, sir,” he said, making a conscious effort not to move so the leather chair didn’t squeak its indignation again. “Kris is waiting, and your guests are probably wondering where you are.”
“Dinner is over. The guests are mingling in the back patio, and last I saw, Kris was deep in conversation with Angelina.” Roger tapped his fingers on his desk. “This is as good a time as any for us to chat.”
So chat,Nate wanted to say.
“You and Kris. How long have you been dating?”
Natereallywished he hadn’t worn a tux tonight. He was sweating his ass off in here. “A month and a half, but I met her soon after she arrived in L.A.,” he replied, careful to keep up the lie they’d told Gloria.
In reality, they’d been official for a week, but he and Kris had connected long before they slapped a boyfriend and girlfriend label on it—not that he could tell Roger that.
“Hmm.” Roger looked unimpressed. “And how do you and Linda know each other?”
Every one of Nate’s muscles locked up at the same time. Damn, he thought he’d have more time before they navigated that minefield. Toss back some scotch—if there was ever a night for Nate to start drinking again, it was tonight—discuss the weather, shoot the breeze about the latest Lakers game.
But nope, Roger went straight for the kill.
It was a trick question. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the subtext of Nate and Linda’s conversation, and while Roger may not be Einstein, he wasn’t in the double-digit-IQ club, either.
“We met through a mutual friend,” Nate replied.
Technically true. Brandon, a fellow aspiring actor, had been the one who suggested Nate earn cash on the side by servicing Hollywood’s richest and horniest. Viagra only did so much, and there were plenty of both wealthy singles and wives whose husbands couldn’t get the job done to go around.
Brandon had introduced Nate to a famous director’s wife who liked the brown-haired, green-eyed type, the woman had told her friends—including Linda—and boom, Nate had been in business.
Technically, he’d been an escort, which was legal in California. Exchanging money for sexual favors was not. While Nate had strived to keep his activities in the over-the-clothes category, he’d sometimes stepped over the line for the right amount of Benjamins, as had been the case with Linda. He hadn’t been proud of it, but it’d put his family back on its feet faster, and he’d been careful not to leave a paper or money trail.
“Anyone I know?” Roger asked.
“Probably not. Sir,” Nate added, because manners.
The other man’s nostrils flared. “Let’s cut the bull, shall we? Unless I’m misinterpreting what I heard in the hall—and I don’t think I am—we both know how you and Linda met. I wanted to see if you were man enough to own up to it, but apparently not.” Roger settled back in his chair, his eyes harder than black steel. “Now, you’re dating Kris. My only daughter. I’m not sure what you did to put her under your spell, because she’s not the type of girl who falls for a guy so fast, but I will give a courtesy you didn’t give me: I’ll be honest. By that, I mean to say, you two are not well-suited. You live in different cities. You come from different…backgrounds. You are from two different worlds, and that’s not taking into account the things you’ve done in the past.” Roger grimaced. “I suggest you end things with Kris before they get more out of hand. It’s for the best.”
Flames of anger licked at Nate’s insides, and his vision hazed over with red. He clutched the armrests of his chair, his fingers digging into the polished wood as he tried to reign in his temper.
“With all due respect, sir, Kris and I know what’s best for our relationship. We may be different in some regards, but we understand each other. If she doesn’t want to see me anymore, fine, but I won’t let anyone else tell me what to do. And—” Nate took a deep breath, wondering if he should go there. Oh, why the hell not? Roger already hated him. “—I’m sorry to say that I probably know Kris better than you, considering you haven’t really been there for her. You make it sound like you want what’s best for her, but you barely spend any time with her. You give her money and buy her nice things, and that’s about it. You have no idea what she likes and dislikes, what her dreams and goals are, whatshewants for her life. As for my past? That’s in the past. I did what I had to do to keep the roof over my family’s head because not everyone is lucky enough to be rich. I work hard, and just because I don’t have a trust fund or an Ivy League degree, that doesn’t make me any less of a person. So again, with all due respect, sir, you can take your suggestion and shove it.”
