Chapter Ten
The kitchen phone rang. She hesitated to answer it in case someone wanted Lily. Yesterday had been exhilarating, pretending to be her sister. But she couldn’t keep it up forever.
“Hello?”
“Lily, my darling daughter, it’s your father calling. I tried your cell and got an out of service area message. How about lunch today at the studio lot? I have a small scene we’re refilming because the stupid cameraman got the lighting wrong. You could meet me at one.”
The hearty, breezy voice was familiar. She’d heard it on the phone many times over the years.
And had heard it loud and clear in movie theaters.
Yet she hadn’t talked to her father since last Christmas.
He used to call on her birthday, when he remembered.
But those calls had ceased when she’d turned nineteen. At least he remembered Christmas.
“I could do that,” she said cautiously.
Would he want to have lunch with Emma or was he looking forward to seeing Lily? Did he even know she’d come to visit? Apparently not as he made no mention of including her in lunch plans. Would he be surprised to see her?
“One o’clock, then,” he said.
“Wait, where?”
Lily might know what studio, but Emma hadn’t a clue.
“At the studio cafeteria. You didn’t spend all night partying, did you? I thought you gave that up after you and Pierre split.”
Emma thought she heard a hint of reserve in his tone, but no censure.
“No. I was home quite early last night,” she replied.
“Come to the gate on Sepulvada, I’ll leave word that you’re expected.”
“See you at one.”
She was going to have lunch with her father.
Emma leaned back and stared off into space. She’d missed her dad so much when her parents were first divorced. He’d always been so much fun. Mom had been left with most of the discipline.
Over the years Emma had grown used to his hectic schedule, his brief calls, his apparent lack of interest. Would today change that? Would he apologize for his neglect? Explain why he’d always been too busy to spend time with one of his little girls?
Not unless he knew who she was.
Of course he’d know instantly that she wasn’t Lily. She might have been able to fool a few of her sister’s friends, but not their own father.
Emma remembered once years ago when she and Lily had been little. They’d tried to convince their father that they were each other. He hadn’t been fooled for a minute, despite his familiar assertion that they were as alike as two peas in a pod.
She might wear one of Lily’s outfits. And see how long it took him to uncover her disguise. A father would know his own daughter, even if he hadn’t seen her in several years.
Looking forward to being with him again, she wondered if he’d want to spend some time with her while she awaited Lily’s return. They could catch up on the last few years. Maybe she could even share a bit of her situation with Logan. He was a man. He could give her some advice.
Allowing herself enough time to look up the studio, and then trying to figure out where the gate was on Sepulvada, she finally entered the setting on the convertible’s GPS.
Emma backed out the Mustang and headed toward Hollywood a couple of hours later.
Wearing one of the silky skirt and top Lily seemed to favor, she smiled as the wind blew through her hair.
This was the glamour she hoped for—dressing in designer clothes, driving a candy-apple-red convertible, lunching with a famous public figure.
She felt as far from the shy librarian as she could get.
For a moment she felt pretty and confident and carefree. It felt glorious.
Emma found the gate with no trouble, and asked the guard directions to the cafeteria.
Parking in one of the few empty parking slots, she hurried to the low building that catered lunch to the studio.
Pausing inside, she looked around. She knew exactly what her father looked like from his last film.
Spotting him seated near a window, she drew a deep breath and sauntered across the room.
A wave here and there proved her sister was not unknown here.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly as she slid into a chair opposite his, her eyes studying the man she hadn’t seen in person since she was seven.
He glanced up from the menu he’d been skimming and smiled.
“Hello. I wasn’t sure if you’d left for Mexico yet or not. I heard Allie Adams got sick and I wondered if they’d be shooting out of schedule, doing the other scenes first.”
“Uh, yes, I heard that, too. I, um, I’ll be leaving soon to do my bit.”
He frowned and stared at her with a puzzled look, as if he found something wrong but couldn’t identify exactly what.
Emma took a breath and smiled.
“So, what have you been up to?”
How long before he recognized her? She leaned back, trying to appear calm and casual.
“Are you wearing different makeup?” he asked, studying her closely.
“Do you like it?”
She tilted her head as if showing off. He suspected, but wasn’t sure. She kept her expression as neutral as she could.
“You look a bit different. But I like it.”
“Good. I’m glad you called for lunch.”
It was enough to deflect his uncertainty.
Damien Carter launched into the reason he had to come to the studio, and why lunch was convenient.
The movie currently being shot was chock-full of trials with some of the junior actors and problems with the weather and schedules.
He complained, stopped to charm the waitress who took their order, then resumed once they were alone again.
At first Emma listened avidly, then gradually grew conscious that her father seemed entirely self-centered. Throughout lunch, he dominated the conversation, taking it as his due that she’d be fascinated by each word he had to say.
Had he always been this way, even when married to her mother? Was this how Lily had grown up? In vain, Emma waited for him to ask her how things were going, to talk about any aspect of her life, to again look at her with a question in his eyes.
Instead, Damien finished lunch with a quick kiss on her cheek and an admonition to keep in touch. He had to run for an appointment.
Emma sat alone at the table after he left, stunned. She couldn’t believe that he hadn’t realized instantly that she wasn’t Lily.
Yet upon some reflection, how could he? He had never asked after her, never showed any interest in what she was doing besides questioning why she wasn’t in Mexico and if she wore new makeup.
It seemed as if she’d served as a sounding board.
Once he’d finished unloading, he’d left.
He hadn’t even made arrangements to see her again.
“Lily?”
She turned and looked up, right into Logan’s dancing green eyes.
“Hi.”
She smiled, suddenly happy she wore another of Lily’s creations.
She chided herself. Did she really think he’d have any interest in a shy librarian from Virginia?
Not when Hollywood overflowed with beautiful, talented and liberal women.
Clothes didn’t make that much of a difference, just in how she felt.
Logan pulled out the chair beside her and sat down.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I met with a producer on a new script, then decided to stop by for a bite to eat. Saw you with your dad. He left, you didn’t, so here I am.”
“You could have joined us, eaten with us,” she said, her pique with her father’s behavior fleeing in the pleasure she found being with Logan Beckett.
“I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“I don’t think you would have,” she murmured. “Just provided a bigger audience.”
“What?”
Sighing gently, she shook her head in perplexity.
“Honestly, he asked me to lunch, then spent the entire time complaining about his work, about how he’s not getting the young hero parts like he used to, how he didn’t like working with the director on the film. He never once asked about me or what I was doing.”
“Sounds normal from what you said once before,” Logan said easily.
He flagged down a waitress and ordered a cup of coffee. The young woman refilled Emma’s cup when she brought Logan’s.
Emma wanted to talk to Lily. Was this normal behavior for their father?
She thought about her stepfather’s interest in all his children, including her.
The entire family gathered for dinner and everyone shared their day.
Now that she’d moved out on her own, the ritual hadn’t changed much.
Anytime she visited, he was interested in what she’d been doing and her thoughts. He cared for her.
Maybe she’d been the lucky one growing up. There was more to life than having fancy cars and traveling to Europe. She wouldn’t trade the love of her family for anything.
Looking up, Emma saw Logan studying her.
“Do I have something on my face?” she asked, wondering why he stared so hard.
“No.” Logan smiled and looked away. “What are your plans for the afternoon?”
“I plan to drive around. The weather is beautiful and I want to see as much as I can—” Oops, another faux pas. “I mean, with the top down and all. Did you catch up on rest from your trip?”
“I slept about ten hours, came into work late. Another couple of days and I’ll be back on track.”
“Maybe you should have taken a couple of days to get acclimatized.”
“There’s too much going . Pete’s still having some minor glitches with the program in Italy. I want to be available if he needs resources from this end.”
“Have you ever shown me your studio?” she asked, clocking her head to one side.
“What an odd way to ask. If you want to see the place, I’d gladly give you a tour someday. I thought you were more interested in live actors than animated characters.”
“Is that a quote?”
It sounded like something her sister might say.
“You made it.”
Emma shrugged her shoulders, remembering her vow to enjoy her vacation. Leaning forward, she gazed into his eyes. Her heart pounded so hard she could hardly think. Could he see how nervous she felt?
“Then I would like to see it someday.”
“You’re on.”