Part 5 (2/2)
It was then I realized that only Ben had asked that question. Not his mother, not Zaitlin, and not Beth Woods. Not even me. ”I don't know.”
”I saw her,” he said flatly.
”When?”
”Last night. I was at this club called The Den. She was drunk and arguing with some guy.”
”Did you talk to her?”
”No. I don't even think she knew who I was, meaning Robert Zaitlin's stepson.”
”You didn't introduce yourself?”
”I try to stay away from what's Robert's business.”
A waiter paused next to Ben, offering a drink from his silver tray. He grabbed a mojito, spilling some. I declined.
The waiter moved on as Ben surveyed the white party tent. ”Looks like a meeting place for a bunch of evangelists. I wonder who this party is really for?” He took a long sip. ”None of these people are my friends.”
”Your parents don't know how else to do it. Business is personal in this town. It's all the same to them.”
He poked a finger at the hot dog turning greasy cold on my plate. ”Dodger Dog. Robert took me to one game. He bought me a hot dog. It made him feel like a father. He's never gotten over it. What was your father like, Diana?”
”Like you, I never knew him. He'd died cras.h.i.+ng his car into a tree on his way to the hospital to visit his wife and meet his new daughter. Mother turned him into a saint. A young husband and actor who lost his life while desperately speeding to see his new baby daughter.”
”Do you believe that s.h.i.+t?”
”No. A woman died in the car with him.”
”You're kidding.” His onyx-colored eyes were swimming now.
”My mother in her hospital bed with the infant me suckling at her breast contacted her lawyer who paid the woman's family off. The media never knew about my father's other love. But she made sure that I grew up knowing my father had cheated on her. She believed children needed the truth, not fairy tales, though obviously she felt differently about what her public needed.”
”G.o.d, how do any of us even function?” He downed the rest of his c.o.c.ktail, smacked his lips, and shoved the empty gla.s.s at a pa.s.sing waiter who took it.
I remembered the young me turning my phantom father, sometimes known as ”that b.a.s.t.a.r.d” by mother, into my Leading Man. The only male who could be whatever I wanted him to be. Other men faded in comparison to the handsome, kind, always young, thoughtful father I had created. Except Colin. He somehow managed to exceed the fantasy. Exhaustion flooded through me. Too many memories and the discovery of a corpse had taken its toll.
”I better be going. It was nice seeing you again, Ben,” I said.
”Wait.” He leaned close. ”How's your friend Celia?” His long thick lashes, which most women would kill for, shaded his eyes.
”She's okay.”
”I know.”
I looked sharply at him. ”Know what?”
”About her and Robert.”
”How did you find out?”
”I began to listen to people. It's amazing when you stop trying to be important and just listen to what people are really saying. Not all the bulls.h.i.+t. It's amazing how many secrets you can pick up.”
”Have you talked to your parents about Celia?”
”Why? They never mention her to me. They had no problem telling me Robert wasn't my real father. That my real father raped my mother. And she's created a name for herself fighting for rape victims and their unwanted children. I'm her poster boy. But they couldn't admit Robert's had a mistress for ten years? It was like I was the only one in the universe who didn't know. I felt like such a loser.” He glared up at the stars poking through the night sky, and I thought I saw tears in his eyes.
”You're not a loser. n.o.body wants to hurt anybody, Ben. Or be hurt. And they certainly didn't want to hurt you.”
”Why didn't my parents just get divorced?” he blurted, sounding like a teenager.
”Money.”
Surprised at my frankness, he burst out laughing, staggering slightly. ”You are soooo cool. You're not like the rest of them. You say what's on your mind.” He wagged a finger at me. ”You'll never get ahead that way in this town.”
I smiled. ”Of course there's the possibility that despite everything they still love each other and you.”
”Now you don't sound like the cool Diana.” His expression clouded. ”Maybe I don't want to be loved by them. n.o.body's thought of that, have they?” Pausing, he moved closer. ”I've always wanted to say this to you. But don't get all uptight. It's a compliment.”
”What?”
”Watching your earlier films when I was young got me through my adolescence. You were soooo s.e.xy.” His breath was hot and moist against my check.
I laughed. ”Glad to be of help.”
Below us on the lawn the caterers rolled out a big birthday cake with twenty-one candles ablaze. My heart sank for Ben. Robert had finally appeared and stood hand in hand with Gwyn. They both extended their arms toward him, beckoning him like two divas competing for the same audience of one.
”This is so f.u.c.ked.” Quickly, he grabbed my shoulders, pulling me to him. With the urn wedged awkwardly between us, he kissed me hard on the lips. Whispering in my ear, he said, ”I just wanted to kiss a woman Robert hasn't had. He hasn't, has he?”
”No,” I whispered back.
From the lawn, Gwyn stared up at me as Ben lurched down the stairs and across to where they were waiting. By the accusing look on her face, I knew Gwyn had seen the kiss. Misunderstood it. The family and many of the guests followed the cake into the tent. The rap music stopped.
To the dissonant sound of off-key voices singing ”Happy Birthday,” I stood alone, haunted by Ben's question: Who would want to murder Jenny? Then I caught sight of Ryan Johns sneaking across the lawn with the Blond Sliver at his side. They paused at the guesthouse door, he spoke to her, and she tossed her head back and giggled. Then he quickly shoved her inside, closing the door behind them. Christ, he wanted me to drive him home.
When the birthday song ended, there was quiet for a brief moment, and then a man's voice speaking in a low firm tone floated up to me from the patio below. I peered over the bal.u.s.trade and saw Heath, who ”got things done” for Zaitlin. I watched him talk importantly on his BlackBerry, at ease with the power of his body. Had he thought that Celia needed to ”get done”? I wanted to confront him, but I had promised her not to say anything.
I a.s.sessed the plate of food that Ben had left on the bal.u.s.trade. Adjusting the urn in my arms, I grabbed the plate, leaned over the railing, aimed, and dropped it. It landed perfectly-cras.h.i.+ng and shattering just behind where he stood. Food flew in all directions.
In one swift movement, holding his cell in his left hand, he reached inside his jacket with the other and spun around looking up toward the balcony. Seeing me, he stopped in mid-action, hand still inside his windbreaker.
His aggressive response startled me. Gathering myself, I said, ”I'm so sorry, Mr. Heath, or is it Mr. Ward?”
His hand fell to his side. ”You can get hurt doing something like that.”
”Do you like to hurt women?”
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