Lovely Trigger (Tristan & Danika #3)(6)

“Listen, this is an embarrassing way to meet, but I’d love to make it up to you sometime.  How does dinner sound?”

I made an effort not to smack my own forehead.

Seriously?!  What the f**k did I do to deserve this?

I realized then and there that I had to tell him, had to bite the awkward bullet and just get it out.  “The fact that your father is old and married isn’t the only thing that offended me about his come-on,” I told him, my tone matter of fact.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, smiling like I was about to tell him some funny joke.

Oh yeah, it was a real hoot.

“Bronson Giles is my biological father.”

His eyes widened comically, his mouth dropping open.

“I have no proof, though if I needed it, his reaction to me telling him who my mother is would have been enough.  But if you don’t believe me—“

“No, no, I do.  I just-I-I-I’m shocked.  I am so sorry.  I wasn’t hitting on you.  I meant like a platonic dinner.”

He hadn’t, but I grasped onto that lame ass excuse just as strongly as he did.  “Of course.  I didn’t think you were.”

In spite of that less than promising beginning, we did sort of hit it off after that.

“I like women as much as the next guy,” Dermot told me over dinner, maybe the fourth time we’d met to catch up.  “But if you can’t keep it in your pants, the least you can do is just stay single.”

“Here, here,” I said, toasting him.  He was preaching to the choir.

“And seriously, he’s how old, and somehow never managed to grasp the concept of birth control?”  He winced as he heard his own words.  “No offense to you.”

I laughed.  “None taken.  I mean, I’m glad I exist, but I could’ve wished for a different father, say, one that was present.”

“How’s Dahlia doing?  And how’s her boy?”

I launched into a story about darling Jack.

We always asked about the other siblings.  We kept track, though no one seemed to have any urge to meet up face to face besides he and I.  Dahlia had some weird resentment for our half-siblings, a bitterness for them that I couldn’t fathom, considering she’d wanted to have more of a relationship with our father.  He was the one to blame.  He was the culprit.  I could well understand a contempt for him and the things he’d done, but our half-siblings were no more to blame for his actions than we were.  Still, there was no talking her out of it.

It was her loss.  Dermot was delightful, sarcastic, and fun.  We’d decided early on that we’d gotten the same twisted sense of humor.

It was several meetings before he worked up the nerve to ask about what happened to my leg.

“The relationship from hell,” I answered.

This one time he didn’t share the joke with me.  His face shut down, and for the first time I saw that my half-brother could be a bit scary.  “Some man did that to you?”

I shook my head vehemently.  “Bad joke.  Sorry.  No.  It’s a long story, but the short version is that this happened in a car accident.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he did let me change the subject.  It had to be easy to catch on that this wasn’t my favorite topic.

“How’s work going?  Did you get that part you were auditioning for?” I asked him.

“I did.  I start shooting next month.  Also, I agreed to do a project with our dad.”

My eyebrows shot straight up.  He’d always been vehement about the fact that he didn’t want to ride his father’s coattails to success.  He’d never used his connections to get ahead in Hollywood.  Until now, that is.

“Hey now, don’t judge me,” he said with an irrepressible smile.

“What?  I didn’t say a thing.”

“You didn’t have to.  You have very judgey eyes.”  I laughed, because he’d gotten it right.  I did have expressive eyes.  “The fact is, the part is a dream, and I do think I’m perfect for it.  I auditioned, and I think I would have gotten the part, regardless of who my father is, just based on that audition.  I’d rather he weren’t part of the project, but that’s not up to me.”

“You don’t have to be defensive with me.  I’m happy for you, and I’m excited to see how it turns out.”

“You still seeing that girl?” I asked, changing the subject again.  He’d been really into some chick he’d just started dating the last time we’d talked.

He grimaced.  “Nah, that’s done.  I told you she was an actress, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, I learned something.  Never date an actress.  She was sleeping with the director of her TV pilot.  The casting couch stereotype comes from something, I guess.”

“That sucks.  How did her pilot do?”

He grinned.  “Bombed, so there’s that.  I wouldn’t have hard feelings, but she was lying to me for a while before I caught on.  Now what about you?  You seeing anybody?  Did you go on a second date with that accountant?”

I made a face that got him to laugh.  “I didn’t.  I’m very good on a first date, but I can’t vouch for my second date skills.  I can’t recall if I’ve ever been on one.”