Page 158 of Wingwoman
He waved a hand. “She’s fine. Well, not fine. She’s in that cookie dough ice cream phase of her breakup where she just wants to watch movies and paint her nails.”
I smiled at the thought of her huddled over a pint of ice cream, thinking about me. I didn’t feel so alone in how depressed I’d been.
“I don’t meanher,” Rick continued. “I mean my other kids.”
Still confused, I asked, “Julianne, Maryanne, and Raeanne?”
“Noooooo.” His head drunkenly flopped around as he dragged the word out. “My kids from my first marriage. The ones I abandoned to raise Hope.”
Oh.Oh shit. That’s right. “And they’re here for the wedding,” I said, piecing it all together.
“I knew they were coming, of course,” he slurred. “But I had a plan. I was going to see them tomorrow. I had speeches prepared. Apologies at the ready. But they surprised me instead. Showed up at my house to say hello.”
“That must have been overwhelming.”
“I felt blindsided. But I deserve it. And I don’t deserve them.”
“Don’t deserve who? Your kids?”
“My kids, Vivian,herkids. I don’t deserve any of them.”
He whipped his head up from where he’d dropped it on the bar and spun to look at me. “You know, my kids from my first marriage, they all turned out great…despiteme. Just like Hope. And now what? I just think I can do this all over again? Marry for the fifth time and actually make this one stick? It’s ridiculous. I’m a joke.”
“You’re not a joke, Rick,” I said gently, nodding at Nina as she slid my credit card back to me. “You love Vivian. You’ve transformed. Built a whole new life here. A new you. Hope told me, she didn’t quite believe it at first, but she’s so proud of you.”
He snorted. “I doubt that.”
“She is,” I said. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
At that statement, he lifted his gaze to me once more, an expression of fatherly protectiveness sweeping over his face. “You wouldn’t lie? Pshhhh. That ain’t what I’ve heard about you.”
I froze, locked into his deep brown eyes, so similar to Hope’s. “I guess I deserve that. But Hope and I had an agreement. It was six weeks. That was it. After that, she would go back to New York. Get back together with that Broadway baby of hers—”
“Brent?” Rick pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, then paused to take a sip of coffee before adding. “She doesn’t love that guy. I doubt she ever did. Don’t think I ever saw my daughter truly in love… until you.”
Funny things swirled in my stomach at that statement. I both loved and hated it all at once.
“Doesn’t change the fact she’s going back to New York soon,” I said, ignoring the frog in my throat.
“If that’s true, then it’s news to me,” Rick grumbled.
I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he lying? Keeping it from me when she was planning to move? But why would he do that? He had nothing to gain, did he?
“Heard that song o’ yours on the radio, by the way,” Rick added. “Pretty goddamn depressing if you ask me. I hope the one you wrote for our wedding is happier than that.”
I raked my hands through my hair. “Your wedding?”
Rick slapped his palm on the bar. “Don’t tell me you didn’t write it!?”
“I–I didn’t think I was still invited. After everything that happened, I mean.”
“Hell, I don’t even know there is a wedding anymore,” Rick muttered. “But if there was, it’d be a damn good place to win back my daughter's heart.” He gave me a knowing look.
I rolled my eyes. “I think a wedding is thelastplace to win Hope over.”
Rick chuckled and took another sip of coffee that seemed to be working wonders for him. “That one’s on me unfortunately.”
“Tell you what,” I said. “If you grovel to Viv and convince her to take you back, I’ll be there singing on your wedding day. But I have to admit, inspiration isn’t hitting like it used to. I’m not exactly known for writing happy music about love and commitment.”
