“No,” Grant repeated dully. She hadn’t apologized or given any sort of hope for reconciliation. She just wanted him to know the truth. Why had she even bothered with that much? “So what am I supposed to make of all this?”
Alex pushed out a breath. “I don’t know. We talked for a little while, but she was too busy being angry at me to say much about you.”
She was angry at Alex—she had never met him before. Suddenly all those things she said to Grant about her father made sense. And here Grant had thought it was just a father-daughter squabble he could help patch up. Instead he had brought together two people who’d never met each other.
Well, that explained why Alex hadn’t let her do the concert.
Alex pushed up his sleeve revealing a phone number scrawled in ink. “I’ve decided to book a jet to West Virginia in the next day or two. I figure it’s about time I sat down with her and her mom. Long overdue in fact.” Alex let his sleeve drop back down his arm. “I need to talk with Kari about this first. I don’t want her to find out about it through the tabloids.”
“West Virginia?” It was then Grant remembered Kari—no Alexia, was her name—standing in his house, telling him she was Kari Kingsley’s nearly-identical half sister from West Virginia. He’d thought she was joking. She couldn’t have expected him to actually believe her. She hadn’t pressed the point. She hadn’t offered him any proof.
Still for a reason he couldn’t quite explain, it gave him hope. For that moment at least, she’d wanted to tell him the truth. “I’m coming with you,” Grant said. “She owes me an explanation.”
Alex nodded. “Fair enough. Now that you know the truth, I’m sure she’ll want to talk to you about it.”
Grant wasn’t so sure. It seemed like a girl who left the state without telling you who she was might avoid further conversations too. He brooded on this while Alex took his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number. “Maren must know where Alexia lives.” He put the phone to his ear and, almost to himself, said, “I suppose she’ll be in school on Monday.”
Which is when Grant decided that he wouldn’t give Alexia a choice about whether to talk to him or not. Being a celebrity had certain advantages, after all. It was time he put a few of them to good use.
* * *
Sabrina Garcia had just finished posting next week’s housekeeping schedule, when the front desk paged her. A guest wanted to see her. Sabrina made her way to the elevator unconcerned. Probably just someone uptight because their towels weren’t fluffy enough. The hotel got that type of guest every once in awhile—people whose self-importance inflated in direct proportion to the amount of time they complained. The best thing to do was smile and promise to fix the problem. Ego boosting: just one more service offered by the Waterfront Place Hotel.
She rode up the elevator, walked across the lobby, and only then took a look at the profile of the man leaning against the front desk. He was in his late forties but was still fit and good looking. He had a full head of blond hair which was slightly tussled, as though he’d just run his hands through it. Small wrinkle lines surrounded his blue eyes. His still-gorgeous blue eyes.
Thoughts of guests with towel issues disappeared. This was worse. Alex Kingsley was here.
She nearly cursed. He had said he would call. Instead he had shown up here without warning, probably to find Alexia so he could whisk her off somewhere. And now Sabrina had to face him unprepared and wearing her shapeless blue housekeeping uniform. She was just glad she’d put on makeup and done her hair this morning. The man apparently didn’t know how to use a phone.
Alex turned and watched her walk up, his gaze taking in every inch of her.
As she reached the desk, he smiled at her softly, casually. “Hello Sabrina.” Then he didn’t say anything else. So that was it? That’s what he had to say to her after nineteen years and a daughter? She stared back at him without answering.
He shifted toward her slightly. “I’m Alex Kingsley.”
Yes, she knew. He didn’t look that different, and besides, Debbie the desk clerk was mouthing the words, “It’s Alex Kingsley!” excitedly behind his back. Debbie looked rapturous about this fact.
“I know,” Sabrina said. “I didn’t forget you.” She hadn’t meant it to come out as an accusation. She only meant that of course she kept up with his singing career. She’d always known she would see him again someday. Perhaps at Lexi’s college graduation or wedding. On both of those occasions she would be prepared—emotionally distant and dressed in something sophisticated, having fussed over her hair, makeup, and nails.
Alex kept his gaze on her. “Is there somewhere we can go to talk? Can I take you out for lunch?”
She looked around as though it could help her find an excuse, an escape. She wasn’t ready to talk to him. Ever since Alexia came home, Sabrina felt like her heart had been scrubbed raw. Fragile and weepy. “I work until three,” she said.
Alex didn’t budge away from the counter. “I’ll talk to your boss and see if he’ll let you off early.”
Her boss, Mr. Crandall, would probably not only agree, he’d get an autograph and then spend the rest of the day bragging to the guests that Alex Kingsley had dropped by. And Alex knew it too. All he had to do was ask and the world moved for him.
Sabrina didn’t want to see this phenomenon in action, and she didn’t want Alex to think he had more power in her hotel than she did. She sighed and turned to Debbie. “Will you tell Mr. Crandall I had to leave early?”
Debbie nodded. She was still standing behind the desk grinning like an idiot.
Alex motioned to the door. “You know the restaurants around here best. Where would you like to go?”
Somewhere I could yell at you if I wanted to, she thought. She didn’t say it. She wasn’t going to yell at him. She wouldn’t let him know she had ever cared that much about him. “What sort of food do you like?” she asked.
“I’m not picky,” he said.
Not surprising. He hadn’t been that picky about women either.
They both headed across the lobby toward the front door. She stole a glance at his profile. Why had he come all the way to West Virginia? There was only one answer. He wanted to take Lexi away from her. He’d come here personally to ask if he could sweep Lexi off to a mansion in Hollywood or take her on a cruise to the Bahamas or something equally horrible. Sabrina wouldn’t let him do it, though. Lexi only had a few months left before college. Sabrina was keeping her home where she belonged until then.
Sabrina smiled pleasantly. “Can you walk into a regular restaurant without getting mobbed?”
Alex took hold of the front door and held it open for her. “The fans are usually pretty considerate. Besides, I’m so far out of my element here, I doubt I’ll be recognized.”
He obviously didn’t realize how many country western fans lived in West Virginia. Sabrina walked through the door feeling odd that he held it open for her, that he offered her that little piece of respect. You weren’t around to open any doors for me when I was nine months pregnant and couldn’t see my feet, she thought, then chided herself for being petty. She had worked through that resentment long ago. She had taken responsibility for her own actions, for her own foolish blind hopes. And besides, she didn’t regret having Lexi. She couldn’t regret her daughter’s eyes, her smile, all of the things she’d gotten from Alex. So where had these bitter emotions suddenly sprung from?
Sabrina smiled at him just to show herself that she could. “We can go to Los Mariachis if you still like Mexican food.”