“Bailed when she was still pregnant.” His tone closed the book on that line of dialogue.
“Have you ever thought about looking him up?”
He paused, a cold look in his eyes, face as hard as granite. “He found me when I signed my first contract. He wanted what was due him as my father. He was barely more than a gene donor, an accident of birth. And he wanted a reward? For bailing on me and my mom, never supporting us—financially or emotionally—then expecting us to give him money? I made sure he would never bother either of us again.” Bitterness tinged the words, remembered pain flowing through, giving her more layers.
“Not very forgiving.” She tried to keep any tone of judgment out of her voice, afraid he would react negatively and she wanted to keep the peace.
“He didn’t deserve it.”
“Sounds like they were both young when you came along.”
He stopped, the spatula in his hand, and banked anger in his eyes. “Yes, they were. Young and stupid. But they handled it differently. Mom accepted her responsibilities while he bailed. He deserved nothing because he gave nothing more than sperm, which I’m sure he was free with his whole life.”
“What did you do?”
“My agent helped me find a lawyer to make sure my father could never come sniffing around me or my mom again. I gave him nothing. I owe him nothing.”
She let the silence grow between them, seeing an image of the boy he had been and it brought tears to her eyes, though sympathy would be unwelcome. She was also seeing a better version of the man he had become and the wounds he held deep inside, wounds he might never acknowledge. What other scars was Jason hiding and was she ready to hear them?
She was under no illusions about this man. He was not the same Jason Friar she had met a few weeks ago. Or maybe she was the one who had changed. Jason had changed and she’d like to think she had something to do with that, bringing out a different side to him. He wasn’t like her other clients, rotten and needing a face lift to the media. How could she go back to that world after experiencing the satisfaction from helping Jason succeed?
How could she leave this man who was becoming so much more than a client?
He slid a plate in front of her, a portion of the steak on it, a generous helping of vegetables and a baked potato. She smiled. “Not bad, Friar.”
He shrugged. “You started it. I only finished it.”
The smells wafted up and her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since lunch. They both dug in, eating in comfortable silence. They were just about done when Jason spoke.
“The house looks nice.” He grunted.
Warmth spread throughout her body, and she smothered a smile. “You’re welcome.”
“You shouldn’t have done it. I won’t be here that long.”
And he ruined the moment. “Isn’t it nice to have a place to sit at night instead of staring at boxes? Now you can even find your clothes.”
He paused, a mouthful of food midway between his mouth and plate. “You went through my clothes?”
“Yes, and we need to talk about your wardrobe. One color. Black. Seriously. Have you seen the rainbow?”
“I don’t want to wear fruity colors. I’m not a vegetable.”
“Yes, yes, you’re a deep, dark baseball player. Serious. Intense. Sexy. A splash of color can add so much.”
He dropped his fork with a clatter. “No more, Stacia. Stop changing me into someone I’m not. Maybe I’m not that guy, did you ever think about that?”
“I’m not changing you. Just trying to enhance you and your image. I want people to see the real you, the one I see. Someone open to people, more accessible.” She just wanted people to love him like she did, see the real Jason. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so lonely.
“Maybe I don’t want to be open to people, accessible. What the hell does that even mean?”
“It’s simple. When you wear colors other than black, you look more fun and people want to talk to you. When you wear all black, you look like your best friend just died.”
“I don’t have a best friend,” he grumbled.
She stared at him for a long moment, then the words slipped out before she could call them back. “Well, that’s just pathetic.”
He stared back, looking stunned. Then he laughed, a loud booming sound with a hint of rust falling off. “It is, isn’t it?” Then he quickly sobered. “It is, isn’t it?” he repeated.