be serious?”
Whit traced the rim of the beer can with his fingertip. “Okay, seriously? You really think hanging around with him is a good idea? If someone at the studio has done something to those girls, what makes you think he or she won’t do anything to you? And don’t assume you’ve narrowed it down to the people who work there.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It could be someone who knows someone who works there. You mentioned there are two women?”
“Janet and Mercedes,” I said, realizing he was right. Mercedes was always riding with those men. And who knew who Janet hung out with? There could easily be more suspects. People who could have looked through the files, picked girls, and …
“So instead of snooping around yourself, why not let the police take care of it?” Whit asked.
“Because I think I could be in a position to find out things they can’t,” I said.
“Like pillow talk with Mr. Kissy Face?”
“Stop it!” I snapped, but then admitted, “Well, maybe a little, but believe me, not on any pillows.”
“What if he makes it clear it’s going to take more than that to get him to talk?”
“I told you, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Well, if you’re not that kind of girl, then maybe you’re not the kind of girl who should be involved at all,” Whit said. “Maybe you should be more focused on what’s happening at home.”
Once again he’d caught me by surprise. I gave him an uncertain look. How would he have any idea of what was happening at home?
“Did someone say something?” I asked. “I mean, what exactly are you referring to?”
“No one said anything,” Whit answered. “And you don’t have to look at me like I’m clairvoyant. Now that the rumors are out about your dad hitting on young women, I have to assume that your mom is slightly less than thrilled.”
That would have been true were it not for the fact that Mom had spent so many years in denial. “Listen, Whit,” I said, “it’s really thoughtful of you to be concerned about my family. But even off the record, that’s private.”
“I’m not looking for gossip,” he said. “I’m just saying it would probably be safer for you, and better for all involved, if that was the direction in which you focused your attentions.”
I was impressed by his intelligence, ethics, and empathy. But despite all that, I knew I had to keep trying to prove my father’s innocence.
Meanwhile, Whit gazed at me with a placid, though slightly amused, expression. “You didn’t listen to a thing I just said.”
He was so right.
Chapter 23
I WENT TO bed that night feeling better. No matter what people said about the validity of lie-detector tests, Dad had still passed. That had to count for something. And I’d learned more about Gabriel, too. He might have been beautiful to look at, but Roman was right—deep down, it appeared that he was pretty shallow. And finally, I felt better thanks to Whit, who was reassuring in his own way, reminding me that there were still people in the world who weren’t just out to further their own career regardless of who they hurt.
I slept well and woke in the morning wondering if I should follow Whit’s advice and spend the day trying to help my family. Maybe some good could still come out of all of this. Surely, Dad had learned a lesson. If I could get him to tell Mom that he was truly sorry for what he’d done and was ready to change his ways, perhaps I could persuade them to at least attempt to patch up their marriage.
And it was Sunday, the perfect day to do it. I stretched and reached over to my night table to check my BlackBerry.
And instantly wished I hadn’t.
There was an e-mail … from [email protected]: Have fun last nite? What a hunk. But w8 till U C the news this morning. Have a gr8 day!
Shivers burrowed through me. First: whoever was sending me these e-mails had been at the party last night. Second: it may have been Sunday, but there would be
Whit traced the rim of the beer can with his fingertip. “Okay, seriously? You really think hanging around with him is a good idea? If someone at the studio has done something to those girls, what makes you think he or she won’t do anything to you? And don’t assume you’ve narrowed it down to the people who work there.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It could be someone who knows someone who works there. You mentioned there are two women?”
“Janet and Mercedes,” I said, realizing he was right. Mercedes was always riding with those men. And who knew who Janet hung out with? There could easily be more suspects. People who could have looked through the files, picked girls, and …
“So instead of snooping around yourself, why not let the police take care of it?” Whit asked.
“Because I think I could be in a position to find out things they can’t,” I said.
“Like pillow talk with Mr. Kissy Face?”
“Stop it!” I snapped, but then admitted, “Well, maybe a little, but believe me, not on any pillows.”
“What if he makes it clear it’s going to take more than that to get him to talk?”
“I told you, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Well, if you’re not that kind of girl, then maybe you’re not the kind of girl who should be involved at all,” Whit said. “Maybe you should be more focused on what’s happening at home.”
Once again he’d caught me by surprise. I gave him an uncertain look. How would he have any idea of what was happening at home?
“Did someone say something?” I asked. “I mean, what exactly are you referring to?”
“No one said anything,” Whit answered. “And you don’t have to look at me like I’m clairvoyant. Now that the rumors are out about your dad hitting on young women, I have to assume that your mom is slightly less than thrilled.”
That would have been true were it not for the fact that Mom had spent so many years in denial. “Listen, Whit,” I said, “it’s really thoughtful of you to be concerned about my family. But even off the record, that’s private.”
“I’m not looking for gossip,” he said. “I’m just saying it would probably be safer for you, and better for all involved, if that was the direction in which you focused your attentions.”
I was impressed by his intelligence, ethics, and empathy. But despite all that, I knew I had to keep trying to prove my father’s innocence.
Meanwhile, Whit gazed at me with a placid, though slightly amused, expression. “You didn’t listen to a thing I just said.”
He was so right.
Chapter 23
I WENT TO bed that night feeling better. No matter what people said about the validity of lie-detector tests, Dad had still passed. That had to count for something. And I’d learned more about Gabriel, too. He might have been beautiful to look at, but Roman was right—deep down, it appeared that he was pretty shallow. And finally, I felt better thanks to Whit, who was reassuring in his own way, reminding me that there were still people in the world who weren’t just out to further their own career regardless of who they hurt.
I slept well and woke in the morning wondering if I should follow Whit’s advice and spend the day trying to help my family. Maybe some good could still come out of all of this. Surely, Dad had learned a lesson. If I could get him to tell Mom that he was truly sorry for what he’d done and was ready to change his ways, perhaps I could persuade them to at least attempt to patch up their marriage.
And it was Sunday, the perfect day to do it. I stretched and reached over to my night table to check my BlackBerry.
And instantly wished I hadn’t.
There was an e-mail … from [email protected]: Have fun last nite? What a hunk. But w8 till U C the news this morning. Have a gr8 day!
Shivers burrowed through me. First: whoever was sending me these e-mails had been at the party last night. Second: it may have been Sunday, but there would be
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