“Chiara
.” He smiled. “It’s wonderful to see you.”
She wished she could say the same. Under the circumstances, it was a forced meeting.
At her continued silence, he went on, “I’m glad you wanted to meet with me.”
“Rick convinced me that I needed to have this face-to-face meeting.”
Michael Feran smiled. “Yes, how is the stuntman?” So her father read the press about her. Of course.
“I met him when I came in. Is he a candidate for future son-in-law?”
Chiara was hit with a sudden realization that left her breathless. She was falling for Rick. She had fallen for him. But they’d never discussed making their fake relationship permanent... She pushed aside the thought that had come with staggering clarity because if she dealt with any more emotion right now, she’d overload.
Instead, she forced herself to focus on Michael Feran. “You’re creating unwanted publicity.”
“I see.”
“Why did you talk to that tabloid about me last year?” It was an unforgivable transgression to add to his list of sins.
“Money would be the easy answer.”
She waited.
He heaved a sigh. “The hard one is that I wanted your attention.”
“Well, you got it.” She folded her arms.
She wasn’t going to offer him a seat, and she sure wasn’t going to sit down herself, despite the fact that Rick had pointed out this room had comfortable chairs. Michael Feran had to understand this was a halfhearted welcome and not an olive branch.
His gray brows drew together. “I probably didn’t go about it in the best way. Believe it or not, it was the only time I took money from a reporter.”
“Because you needed to pay off your gambling debts,” she guessed.
He looked aggrieved. “It was a mistake. One I don’t intend to make again.”
She was definitely going to see to it that he didn’t spill the beans again.
“Usually I’m winning at the card tables. Enough to pay my bills.”
“Naturally. It’s what matters in life.” She couldn’t help the tone of heavy sarcasm in her voice. “But you’re generating bad press.”
“Chiara—”
“Do you have any idea what it meant for a little girl to wake up wondering if her father had bolted again?” she interrupted, even while she didn’t know why she was being so forthright. Maybe it was because, without even realizing it, she’d waited years for this opportunity to confront him about his misdeeds. Just as Rick had suggested.
“Chiara, I know I hurt you.” Her father paused. “That’s why I stopped showing up after you turned five. I thought that not making a sudden appearance was better than hurting you by coming and going.”
He made it seem as if he’d done her a favor. She remembered the betting games they’d played when she was young. I bet I can throw this pebble farther. Race you to the tree, loser is a rotten egg. Even then Michael Feran hadn’t been able to resist a bet. “You left a wife, a child, a home...”
“You don’t know what it’s like to walk away from a family—”
“I never would.”
“—but you get to reinvent yourself with every film role.”
“It’s acting.” First Rick, now her father. Was there no man in her life who could understand she was just pretending? She liked acting.