“Sorry to greet and run,” Elizabeth says. “But I need to go say hello to Ashley Aylster. She’s here solo. So nice meeting you.” She glides away.
“She’s really sweet,” Molly says. “Thank—”
“Nicholas! There he is!”
I stiffen.Dad. I can’t even pretend I didn’t hear him and walk away, since his hand is already slapping my shoulder.
I force a bland smile. “I didn’t know this was your scene.”
“Are you kidding? Everything is my scene.”
A redhead with boobs too big for her skinny frame clings to his arm. She has an average facial bone structure that any wannabe starlet could beat. But her eyes are a stunning shade of blue. If it’s their real color, I can see why Dad might find her interesting enough to hang out with, since it can’t be her brilliant conversation. She looks like she’s eighteen. Hell, I hope sheiseven eighteen. She gives Molly a stay-the-fuck-away-from-my-daddy look. Ugh. Like Molly would want to be with someone like my dad.
I pull Molly closer, giving the redhead a don’t-fuck-with-my-girlfriend glare.
“Where are my other sons?” Dad asks.
“They aren’t coming. Didn’t Joey tell you?” Joey stalks us on social media and the news to find out what we’re up to. That way, he can arrange things like a helicopter ride for Dad to crash Grant’s wedding—while blaring “Ride of the Valkyries.”
“He fell down some stairs.” Dad shakes his head, ruefully annoyed. He isn’t sad Joey got hurt. He’s sad that he’s being inconvenienced.
“Who pushed him?” I ask.
“No one. He just tripped.”
“So God pushed him.”
“If He did, He did a pretty shoddy job. Joey only broke his foot and sprained his wrist. He isn’t as quick as he used to be, which is too bad.” Dad finally zeroes in on Molly. “Who’s this? Is this the same one from before? The one from our phone call?”
How much should I say? Actually, is it even wise to introduce him to Molly in person? He offered to put Aspen in a movie with lots of sex scenes. Then he told Lucie he’d pay for a boob job—like she needs the plastic surgery! I don’t want him saying something to upset Molly. Like offering to pay for a nose job or something.
He squints as he studies her. “This one isn’t the black-dress girl I saw with you last time. Her boobs weren’t as perky. Unless she got a better bra.”
Jesus.
Molly’s mouth parts, and she blinks a couple of times.
“Don’t be shy. I’m not weird. I make movies,” Dad says. “I’m Ted Lasker.”
Ted Lasker is a synonym for “weird.”
“Hi. I’m Molly. I’m…not weird, either.” Her eyes are wide with what-the-hell-do-I-do-now panic, while her mouth is desperately trying to maintain a friendly smile.
“What a lovely name.”
“Thank you.” Something beeps. She reaches into her clutch and fishes out her phone. “I need to take this.” She can’t hide her relief. “Excuse me.”
God must love me to pull her away from this mess. But His love isn’t big enough to save me as well.
“So, you makin’ a baby with Bonnie?” Dad asks, leaning forward.
“Mollyand I are not going to make a baby just to suit you.”
He doesn’t hear me. “Your mother wants one, too.”
“The feeling will pass in a week or two.” I’ll buy her a new car. That should do the trick.
“No, it won’t. She’s hanging out with Rachel in Florence right now.”
