Page 78 of Until Then

“Hayley,” Milton says, his voice softer than before. “Don’t let this get into your head too much. You don’t know what’s going on. Shane might’ve seen the kid because of your loser ex, true. But it might truly be for a job. Nothing more.”

Maybe it’s true. Still, I need to speak to Noah. Explain why I kept it a secret.

My thumbs shake as I send the text.

Me: Noah, Jasper sent a video of you meeting with Shane Holston. Please call me. I can explain. He’s my dad, Pretty Boy, but he’s not part of my life for good reason. Call me, please.

For ten minutes my stomach twists into angry, wretched knots.

They don’t ease when, at long last, Noah sends me a message.

Pretty Boy: I messed up, Wildfire. I never wanted negative attention to fall on you or your family, but I didn’t keep my end of the deal. I think you might want to stay away from me for now. You deserve more.

I try to call him. It rings twice, then goes to his chipper voicemail. I call again. His phone is shut off.

I hug my middle and let another tear fall.

Whatever happened, the man I’m positive I’m in love with, all at once, doesn’t want to see me.

TWENTY-THREE

Noah

Daughter?

Shane leans back in his chair, even more smug than before. “You really didn’t know? I hear we look alike.”

With the features pointed out, sure, I can see a bit of my Wildfire in his face.

“I didn’t know.” Loser. Greer called the man a loser once. Val, Alice, Hayley—no one talks about her dad.

My jaw tightens. He’s done something to them, hurt them, in some way. Even kids who come from a divided house usually mention their parents. This—having a famous father—seems like something that might be shared.

But she didn’t.

Suspicion lifts my hackles and I want to know why. There’s something about Shane Holston that kept him buried in Hayley’s heart as some sort of shameful secret. One deep enough she never brought it up to her boyfriend.

I understand a bit about not wanting sharper edges to be brought into the sunlight.

Shane adjusts the cuffs of his shirt and shakes his head. “Here I thought you might’ve seen some of those old headlines from two years ago, trying to dig up mistakes of the past. I havea feeling that worm of a writer—Jasper something—tried to sell the story to the press.”

I catch maybe two points from his rant. Jasper Barnes knew Hayley’s father was in a top seat in Hollywood. And said father insinuated my girl was some sort of mistake.

I don’t like Jasper Barnes.

I definitely don’t like Shane Holston.

“I never saw any articles.”

“Good. My money to bury them was well spent.”

“Even if I did,” I go on, “it wouldn’t influence my intention to date her. Honestly, I’m not sure why it would’ve been a scandal or something to hide anyway. She’s amazing.”

I bite back the rest of what I want to tell him: If anything, he would’ve been the stain onherreputation.

“Please. Noah, you’ve been in this business long enough, you can’t be so naïve.” Shane scoffs. “Her mother was willing to jump into bed with anyone for a chance at the highlife, got pregnant on purpose, all with the hope to ride the wave of fame for at least eighteen years.”

Hayley’s mom works a busy nine to five on top of the ranch chores. She’s never spoken of this guy. I already know the women who own Sweet Cream work hard for all they have. It’s not rolling in the money—yet—and as far as I know, it never has.

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