It wasn’t a lie. Just most people assumed that meant her family, not Seth. Right now, the world still thought she was with the Hollywood Production Designer, because she hadn’t bothered to tell anyone any different.
But there would be press at the end of the 24-Hour Plays. She wouldn’t be able to avoid the questions then. And people would see her. And Seth. Her and Seth not together.
That was why she couldn’t think about the interview. Because it inevitably led to thinking about Seth and how eventually she’d have to tell the world that they’d broken up. The thought was devastating. Because then it would be real.
“I know you don’t want to think about it,” Lexie said, unaware of what tormented Heather most about the interview. “But it’s out there now. You can’t avoid the press forever. And do you really regret saying any of those things? Even without Seth?”
“No.” The only thing she regretted was that Seth wasn’t in her life anymore. “I miss him, Lexie.” Her voice caught. “Like, so much.”
Lexie pulled her into another hug. She tucked Heather’s blonde hair behind her ear and out of the way of her fresh tears. “If you think about it, it was kind of romantic. Taking a job with a pay cut in order to be near you.”
“You don’t think that’s, like, stalkerish?”
“It could be, if the guy was a freak. But it’s Seth.”
“Yeah.” Seth. God, just thinking his name made her heart beat faster. There was no one like Seth. Never would be, she was sure of it. “But he lied.”
“You don’t always make it easy for people to love you,” Lexie said. “Can you really blame the guy for having to play games to get to see the real you?”
“Am I really that awful of a person?”
“No, sweetie. You’re really not.” She wiped at Heather’s tears with her thumb. “But you put up a lot of extra stuff that people have to look past in order to find that out.”
“I do do that, don’t I?” If Seth had been honest from the beginning, there was a good chance things wouldn’t have gone down between them like they did. They’d probably have had a one-night fling and that was all. By keeping the truth from her, she’d been forced to deal with things about herself that she never would have dealt with otherwise.
She’d never have been able to love him like she did. Or had. No, did. She still loved him. She couldn’t deny that, even to herself.
Heather took a Kleenex from Lexie and wiped her nose. “I kind of liked myself better when I was with him.”
“Me too.”
She laughed. “Now you’re just being mean.”
“Okay, maybe I am.” Lexie stood and moved back around the couch. “All right, I’m leaving for the store. You’ll be okay?”
“Yep. Take your time. Enjoy the fresh air.” The alone time would give her time to figure out what to do about Seth.
“You’re sure?”
“Yep. Besides, I bet you’re tired of being cooped up with my crazy ass.”
“Bitchy ass is more like it. And I won’t answer for fear of keeping my job.”
Heather turned to lean her face on the back of the couch. “You always act like I’m on the verge of firing you. You know you can’t get rid of me that easy, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Lexie sighed, her hand at the door. “But a girl can dream.”
Heather laughed—her first genuine laugh in weeks, and kept chuckling after Lexie had left. It was good to feel something besides depressed. Did she feel good because she’d had a good moment with Lexie or because she was finally moving past her heartache?
Or was her better mood because she knew Seth would be at the plays?
She let herself daydream about it for a few minutes—imagined rehearsing the plays, bumping into him backstage. Would he try to talk to her? Would she want to talk to him? Would they end up making out against the wall, their bodies pressed together in all the right places?
And that was why she was afraid of working with him. Because she wanted to talk to him and touch him and kiss him and lick him as much as she wanted to never see him again. At least the never seeing him again option protected her from further heartache—but she was so hurt already, could there really be a “further”?
Maybe she should cancel her participation in the plays. Lexie would be disappointed, but—
A rapping at the door jolted her from her increasingly tormented thoughts. She jumped up, glancing at the table by the closet where she knew Lexie had left her keycard earlier. Yep, just as she suspected—the keycard was there.
She picked up the card and opened the door to hand it to her assistant. “Damn it, Lex, when are you going to remember…”
Except it wasn’t Lexie.
Heather’s mouth went dry and a lump caught in her throat. “Daddy.” She was stunned, to say the least. When she’d seen Dean on the set of Girl Fight, she’d told him she was done with the handouts. That didn’t mean she didn’t expect to see him again, but certainly she thought her generous check bought her a couple of years reprieve.
Dean brushed past her, swinging the door open as he did.
“I didn’t say you could come in.”
“But you’d never turn me away.”
“Yes, I would. I told you last time no more.” She turned to face him, aware that the door hadn’t closed completely behind him, but unwilling to take her eyes off him to shut it herself. Besides, being alone with her father was never the best option, though habit kept her from wanting their encounter to be broadcast to whoever might be in the hall.
She watched as he crossed to the windows and whistled at the view. “Nice crib,” he said. “Definitely a step up from your fancy trailer.”
Heather ignored his comments and adopted a defensive posture, crossing her arms over her chest. “How did you know where to find me?” It was one of the first questions she asked every time she saw him even though it didn’t really matter how he found her, just that he had.
He evaded her like he invariably always did when she asked. “I always know where you are baby doll. I’m your daddy.”
She cringed at his parental declaration. Was she too old to be emancipated from him? Because it wouldn’t bother her much if she never saw him and his yellow-toothed grin again. “What do you want, Dean? Let’s skip the bullshit this time and you just tell me.”