Page 62 of When You Rescue your Celebrity Crush

When we get to the Ranch, I have Maddie text John, asking if he wants to go to my rental. He tells us to drive to Dad’s house, so I do. We pull into the garage and park both cars beside the Mercedes. Leaving Maddie to struggle with her suitcase and the seat release, I hurry to John. “Does Dad know you’re coming?”

He pushes past me toward the inside steps as the big doors roll shut behind us. “I spoke with him this morning before I left LA.” He shoves the internal door open and strides down the hall.

Justin meets us at the bedroom door. With a stealthy glance over his shoulder, he tries to usher us into the kitchen. John refuses to be redirected. He plants his feet, his hands on his hips. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

“I’m the medical assistant hired by your father’s health care company. As I told Ms. Holmes before, I’ve been instructed to keep you out.” He gives me an angry glare.

John pulls a sheaf of papers from his briefcase. “Your instructions are obsolete. Destiny Leroux Holmes has filed for divorce, and the court has agreed she is no longer in control of Nicholas Holmes’s medical care.”

Justin takes the papers and pages through them. He points to the top one. “But this says State of California. We’re in Oregon. I’m not sure—”

“The court in California has jurisdiction because that’s our father’s state of residence. There’s also a letter from Ms. Leroux abdicating responsibility for our father. Besides, he’s capable of making his own decisions, right?” John raises an eyebrow at me.

I shrug. “I dunno. He seemed kinda confused when I was here last week, but not incapacitated.”

Justin holds up both hands. “We were hired by Mrs. Holmes. I can’t just—”

“Call your lawyer.” John pushes past him. “I’m going to speak with my father.”

I pat Justin’s arm. “Why don’t you call your boss? I’ll tell them you tried to keep us out.”

“Thanks.” He retreats into the kitchen, and I follow John to the bedroom. Maddie still hasn’t come in from the garage.

“Who are you?” a female voice demands. I round the corner, to see the physical therapist from last week. She sits with Dad at a small table near the window.

Dad looks up from the huge pen he’s using to scrawl on a sheet of paper. Several others litter the small table, and a few have drifted to the floor. He’s dressed in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt—clothing I’ve never seen on him before. He pushes his glasses on top of his bald head and scowls at us. “John, Nica! What a surprise.” It doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s a happy one.

The therapist leaps to her feet. “Mr. Holmes, these people are not supposed to disrupt you—”

Dad cuts the therapist off. “They’re my children. They’re welcome if I say they are. It’s about time you showed up.”

I exchange a look with John. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“I’ve been ill for weeks, and you’re only now coming to check on me?” He tosses the giant pen onto the table. “Family is supposed to take care of you when you’re ill.”

“Dad, I’ve been here. But Destiny wouldn’t let us in.” I perch on the edge of the bed and gesture to the therapist. “The company she hired to care for you has instructions to keep us out.”

“Destiny? Who’s Destiny?” He slaps the table. “Someone get Richard on the phone!”

“Destiny is your current wife, Dad.” John pushes past the therapist and sits in her empty chair without so much as an “excuse me.”

“I’m not married.”

“You got married in April.” John points at me and Maddie who just appeared in the doorway, still swiping through her phone. “We were all here for it.”

Dad shakes his head. “I think I’d remember if I got married again. Five times is enough for anyone.”

I frown. “You don’t remember marrying Destiny?”

“Who’s Destiny?”

Maddie swipes some more, then holds her phone at arm’s length, waving the screen at Dad. “Destiny. Perky blonde, barely legal? Doesn’t ring any bells?”

Dad scowls at the phone. “Gimme that thing! Where are my glasses?”

“On your head, Dad.” Maddie sets the phone on the table and reaches out to slide the glasses onto Dad’s nose. “Where’s your rug?”

“Maddie—” John glares at our sister.

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