Lawful Wife
Page 55
“I wish my father would come back and walk me down the aisle tomorrow.”
Then everything would be perfect again.
26
“And you’re sure he’s still there?” Daniel asked Tim as they both got out of the car in front of the Mill House Inn in East Hampton.
Tim nodded. “I sweet-talked the girl who works the front desk. She would have called me if he’d checked out.”
Daniel couldn’t suppress a smirk. “A girl, really?”
“Hey, she totally thinks I’m straight.” Tim shrugged. “Not my fault that her gaydar isn’t working. Anyway, she hasn’t called me. Looks like he’s reluctant to leave after all. Maybe he just needs a gentle push in the right direction.”
“I hope you’re right. Do you know what room he’s in?”
“Twenty-two. Up the stairs, turn right, then an immediate left.” Tim’s cell phone suddenly rang. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the display. “It’s the PI.”
“Take it.” Daniel watched as Tim answered the phone. They’d managed to get the story retracted without the PI’s help, but it wouldn’t hurt to find out what the private investigator had found out about Audrey.
“Yeah? This is Tim.”
Lots of hmms, uh huhs, and ohs came over Tim’s lips while he listened to the PI on the other end of the line. Then he finally said, “Email me the file. Thanks, man.”
He hung up, a crooked grin on his face.
“He found something?” Daniel asked, curious now.
Tim chuckled. “Oh, you’re so not gonna believe whom our little tramp Audrey slept with when she was sixteen.”
“Whom?”
Tim shook his head. “Tell you afterward.” He motioned to the entrance door of the B&B. “Now, go and give him a piece of your mind. I’ll wait here and make a few calls.”
Daniel didn’t press Tim for an explanation, opened the door to the beautiful building and stepped into the foyer with the dark wooden floors and the white walls which were hung with pictures of old ships and other maritime motifs. He glanced to the little reception area. A sign stood on the counter next to a little bell: Ring me for service!
Just as well that nobody was manning the reception. He much preferred going upstairs without being seen. Following Tim’s instructions, he found the room in question immediately. He knocked and waited.
There was a sound coming from the inside, then the door was opened.
Sabrina’s father wore a pair of pants and a wife-beater shirt. He looked unshaven and unkempt. Daniel inhaled. And he’d been drinking, he added to his quick assessment.
“What do you want?” George Palmer asked.
“I want to talk to you.”
By way of reply, George opened the door wider and stepped aside. Daniel entered, closing the door behind him, and looked around. The TV was on mute. The New York Times lay on the sofa in front of it, and a bottle of Jim Beam stood on the side table, a half empty glass next to it.
Daniel took a closer look at the newspaper and was able to read the date: it was today’s edition.
“You read it?” he asked George without turning his head to him.
George walked around and slumped down on the couch. “Yeah.”
“So you know it was all a lie.”
His future father-in-law didn’t look at him, but nodded his head. He reached for the glass and took a large gulp.
“Then what are you doing here sulking? You should be sobering up to be ready for the wedding tomorrow.” Daniel stepped over a pair of dirty socks and walked around the sofa to stare down at him. “Damn it! What’s the matter with you? Your daughter needs you!”
George scoffed and lifted his lids for a moment, but dropped them again quickly, as if he couldn’t look Daniel in the eye. “She doesn’t need me. Not after the things I said to her.”
“That’s not true. Every girl needs her father to walk her down the aisle, no matter what happened before.”
George shook his head. “I called her a call girl! Don’t you get that? I can’t take that back. All the apologies in this world won’t be enough to restore my relationship to my daughter.” He sniffed, and Daniel noticed how the older man’s eyes grew moist with tears. “I’ve screwed up. I should have trusted her. I should have known! She’s my little girl. She would have never done anything like that. Why didn’t I believe her? Why didn’t I take her word for it?”
Daniel lowered himself and moved the newspaper aside to make space on the couch, before sitting down next to him. “We all make mistakes. That’s what apologies are for.”
Then everything would be perfect again.
26
“And you’re sure he’s still there?” Daniel asked Tim as they both got out of the car in front of the Mill House Inn in East Hampton.
Tim nodded. “I sweet-talked the girl who works the front desk. She would have called me if he’d checked out.”
Daniel couldn’t suppress a smirk. “A girl, really?”
“Hey, she totally thinks I’m straight.” Tim shrugged. “Not my fault that her gaydar isn’t working. Anyway, she hasn’t called me. Looks like he’s reluctant to leave after all. Maybe he just needs a gentle push in the right direction.”
“I hope you’re right. Do you know what room he’s in?”
“Twenty-two. Up the stairs, turn right, then an immediate left.” Tim’s cell phone suddenly rang. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at the display. “It’s the PI.”
“Take it.” Daniel watched as Tim answered the phone. They’d managed to get the story retracted without the PI’s help, but it wouldn’t hurt to find out what the private investigator had found out about Audrey.
“Yeah? This is Tim.”
Lots of hmms, uh huhs, and ohs came over Tim’s lips while he listened to the PI on the other end of the line. Then he finally said, “Email me the file. Thanks, man.”
He hung up, a crooked grin on his face.
“He found something?” Daniel asked, curious now.
Tim chuckled. “Oh, you’re so not gonna believe whom our little tramp Audrey slept with when she was sixteen.”
“Whom?”
Tim shook his head. “Tell you afterward.” He motioned to the entrance door of the B&B. “Now, go and give him a piece of your mind. I’ll wait here and make a few calls.”
Daniel didn’t press Tim for an explanation, opened the door to the beautiful building and stepped into the foyer with the dark wooden floors and the white walls which were hung with pictures of old ships and other maritime motifs. He glanced to the little reception area. A sign stood on the counter next to a little bell: Ring me for service!
Just as well that nobody was manning the reception. He much preferred going upstairs without being seen. Following Tim’s instructions, he found the room in question immediately. He knocked and waited.
There was a sound coming from the inside, then the door was opened.
Sabrina’s father wore a pair of pants and a wife-beater shirt. He looked unshaven and unkempt. Daniel inhaled. And he’d been drinking, he added to his quick assessment.
“What do you want?” George Palmer asked.
“I want to talk to you.”
By way of reply, George opened the door wider and stepped aside. Daniel entered, closing the door behind him, and looked around. The TV was on mute. The New York Times lay on the sofa in front of it, and a bottle of Jim Beam stood on the side table, a half empty glass next to it.
Daniel took a closer look at the newspaper and was able to read the date: it was today’s edition.
“You read it?” he asked George without turning his head to him.
George walked around and slumped down on the couch. “Yeah.”
“So you know it was all a lie.”
His future father-in-law didn’t look at him, but nodded his head. He reached for the glass and took a large gulp.
“Then what are you doing here sulking? You should be sobering up to be ready for the wedding tomorrow.” Daniel stepped over a pair of dirty socks and walked around the sofa to stare down at him. “Damn it! What’s the matter with you? Your daughter needs you!”
George scoffed and lifted his lids for a moment, but dropped them again quickly, as if he couldn’t look Daniel in the eye. “She doesn’t need me. Not after the things I said to her.”
“That’s not true. Every girl needs her father to walk her down the aisle, no matter what happened before.”
George shook his head. “I called her a call girl! Don’t you get that? I can’t take that back. All the apologies in this world won’t be enough to restore my relationship to my daughter.” He sniffed, and Daniel noticed how the older man’s eyes grew moist with tears. “I’ve screwed up. I should have trusted her. I should have known! She’s my little girl. She would have never done anything like that. Why didn’t I believe her? Why didn’t I take her word for it?”
Daniel lowered himself and moved the newspaper aside to make space on the couch, before sitting down next to him. “We all make mistakes. That’s what apologies are for.”
