Disbelief and astonishment rolled through me, quickly followed by anger. I’d been worried sick about him, and he didn’t even have the decency to break up with me in person!
I walked away from my father, staggering as I moved, the emotion overwhelming me.
“You don’t have anything to prove, Georgia. It’s okay to fall apart in front of me, honey,” Dad said.
“I loved him, Dad.” The tears stuck in my throat and I buried my head in my hands. It suddenly made sense that Scott’s passport was missing. He’d taken it with him. Leaving me intentionally? I wept in my father’s arms.
“He’s lucky he’s not here,” Dad said through gritted teeth. “I’d kill him.”
• • •
Dad and I made our way back into the bar area of the B&B, only to find that the cast and crew had cleared out, leaving Cheryl and Becca alone to chat. Two chilled glasses of sangria sweated in front of them, the condensation dripping down the sides and saturating the tabletop.
By the way they grew quiet when we entered, I knew they were up to no good.
“I think we’ll need a pitcher of that,” I said, indicating the sangría.
Becca eagerly hailed down the senora who ran the bed-and-breakfast. “Uno más,” she said, pointing at me.
Dad cleared his throat. “¡Dos más!”
The senora gave me a sympathetic nod and got busy pouring our drinks.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“There are fiestas in town tonight,” Becca said. “Cheryl gave everyone a pass for the night.” She sipped her sangría. “Well, I mean, she gave most everyone a pass for the night. They’re upstairs getting ready.”
Cheryl stiffened and I knew that most everyone obviously didn’t include Becca. Becca looked away from us and pretended she didn’t care, but I knew she desperately needed a night off.
I patted Becca’s shoulder. “You should go to the fiestas, too. I’m sure Cheryl won’t mind,” I said pointedly.
Cheryl bristled, but Dad said, “Fiestas? What are they celebrating? A saint day or something?”
The senora leaned in. “The first Friday of the month.”
Dad chuckled. “The first Friday? Heck, we should all go to the fiestas!”
“I’m not going. I have work to do.” Cheryl narrowed her eyes at Dad. “You can go if you like.”
Dad waved a hand. “Oh, no. I’m jet-lagged. Why don’t we stay here on our own? Get comfortable. Let the others go out and enjoy themselves.”
Cheryl perked up at the idea. “Yes!” She turned to Becca. “You can have the night off. Go into town with Georgia—”
“No. I’m not in the mood for fiestas,” I said. “You may as well tell them, Dad.”
Dad shrugged, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news. Instead, he pulled out his cell phone and slid it across the bar.
Becca shrieked when she saw the email and Cheryl gasped. “He doesn’t want to do the show? He’s under contract!”
Becca shook her head at Cheryl. “Don’t be so insensitive.”
“Insensitive?” Cheryl screeched. “The man has put us behind, costing us tens of thousands of dollars! Do you know what it cost to house the entire cast and crew here?”
At that, the senora behind the bar chuckled.
Dad put a hand on Cheryl’s lower back. “Darling—”
“I’m going to sue him, that’s what I’m going to do!” she howled.
I laughed bitterly. “He doesn’t have any money.”
Cheryl frowned at me. “Come on. He’s a big-time author!”
While it was true that Scott had authored quite a few hits, financially he’d been wiped out paying for his deceased wife’s medical treatments.
“It’s doesn’t mean that he has—”
Cheryl interrupted me. “I’m going to sue his New York Times–bestselling behind!” When Dad pulled his hand away from her, she continued, “Don’t get upset, Gordon. It’s nothing personal, just business.”
“It is personal!” Becca protested.
“It’s personal to Georgia!” my Dad said. “And to Becca and me, too.”
Cheryl’s eyes fluttered and her entire head began to tick nervously back and forth, as if she couldn’t understand ordinary people. She couldn’t get her mind around the fact that Becca and Dad had actually liked Scott and I had loved him.
“You all are being ridiculous!” she admonished. “The man walked off my set!” She poked Dad in the chest. “And he left your daughter in the lurch! She was worried sick about him. You were, too! We flew halfway across the world in order to straighten out this mess!”
The senora had been watching our drama unfold, and when we all quieted down, she gave a shake of her head and said, “Ai yai yai.”
Dad covered his face with his hands and repeated the expression.
Becca pushed her empty sangría glass toward the senora. “Uno más.”
I slumped into the bar stool next to Becca and pushed my empty glass next to hers. The senora refilled our glasses without a word. Then she disappeared into the kitchen, only to return with a tray of tapas: grilled mushroom in a wine and garlic sauce, white beans with sausage and ham, and calamari in an aioli sauce.
My mouth watered and despite my severe angst about Scott, I dug into the food. We grew quiet as we savored our meals.
Dad dipped a piece of warm crusty bread into the garlic sauce. “Oh, my word. Is all the food in Spain this good?”
The senora smiled. “Sí.”
“Dinner last night was pretty amazing,” Becca said. She poked at me and said, “Right, G?”
I nodded, listless again.
She put her arm around me. “I’m so sorry, honey. Guys totally stink.”
I grumbled but didn’t answer.
“It’s not really like him, is it?” Becca persisted. “I can’t believe he’d break up with you via email.”
“I want to go home,” I whined.
“Home!” Cheryl squawked. “Not on your life!” She slammed a fist into the bar. “We have a show to film.”
Oh, great.
Dread filled my belly.
She was going to make me go through with the show.
“I don’t . . . I can’t . . . I don’t have a partner,” I stuttered.
I suddenly envisioned Cheryl partnering me with Kyle and a red itchy blotch appeared on my collarbone, as if the thought had given me hives. I glanced nervously at Becca for reassurance, but she feigned interest in the white bean tapas.
Cheryl whacked Dad in the back, causing him to choke on his piece of bread. “Whaddya mean? Gordon’s right here! We have the mother-son team. Why not a father-daughter team?”
Dad’s eyes grew wide in horror. “Oh, no! No, no, no, no.”
“Why not?” Cheryl insisted. “You need the money. You want to save your farm, right? You and Georgia can win this thing!”
“Uh . . .” Dad looked pained. “This is Expedition Improbable! You all have a bunch of torturous challenges planned. Like hiking and rafting, and God knows what!”
Cheryl batted her eyes at Dad, pouring on the sweetness. “Oh, Gordon—”
“No. I’m not going to do it. I’m old—”
“You’re not old, Gordon,” Cheryl said.
Dad patted his flat stomach. “I’m fat, there’s no way I’ll make it through those challenges.”
Becca snickered. “You’re not fat, you’re downright skinny!”
“I’m out of shape, then,” Dad whined.
“No you’re not, darling,” Cheryl wiggled her eyebrows in a suggestive fashion. I turned away, willing my mind to redact any unwanted images she’d just implanted with that stupid look of hers.
“I don’t like to get up early,” Dad said.
Becca laughed. “Gordon! You’re a farmer! You’ve been getting up early your whole life!”
“Georgia doesn’t want me as a partner!” Dad insisted. “She needs someone young, someone who can—”
“Dad!” I exclaimed, a little louder than I’d intended. I couldn’t risk Becca or Cheryl getting the bright idea of partnering me up with a flamboyant stylist. “You would make a good partner, I think.”
Dad pressed his lips together.
“At least we can trust him not to walk off the job,” Cheryl stated.
I smiled to myself. I knew the real reason Dad didn’t want to be on the show was that he didn’t want to look foolish on national television. And I couldn’t blame him. Looking like a fool was tough. I’d been humiliated in front of all our family and friends when I’d been left at the altar by my former fiancé, Paul. Worse, now I’d look like an even bigger idiot for choosing Scott over Paul on the last show.
But there was another reason not to pack up and go home.
Annalise Rodriguez.
Had Scott known her? Who was she to him? More important, why was his watch at the scene of the crime?
If I stayed in Spain, I might be able to get some answers; some closure.
I got up and walked over to Dad. “You know, I think the only way I can do the show is with you by my side, Daddy.”
Dad blinked up at me, a stoic expression on his handsome face.
He couldn’t say no to me. All my life, Dad had always, always stood proud in my corner. He was my hero.
He turned away from me, plucked a toothpick out of the small holder on the bar and speared a mushroom. He waved the mushroom at Cheryl. “I’ll do the show if meals are included.”