And, it couldn’t be avoided, in one terrible instance, her father had done the same.
“Not too good, Dad.”
“Hell,” he whispered.
“She went right to the hotel.”
“Hmm.”
Hmm was right.
After whatever happened, happened, Mom not asking Rodney to take her right home was telling.
At least Chloe thought so.
In fact, it was lunacy (and also telling), that before she even headed up, she had Mary make arrangements so Mom could hit that hotel and book a facial for this afternoon, while Mom made plans the next day with friends who lived up in Prescott, all of this after taking that box into the mountains.
If Mom was over that guy, she’d just come up and do what Uncle Corey wanted done and go back down.
And after they’d done whatever Uncle Corey wanted, if Mom was pissed and over it, Mom would cancel everything and drive right back down the mountain and be done.
But she wasn’t.
She was sticking close.
In Prescott.
To him.
All right, so it was less telling and more Chloe twisting it to what she needed to be.
But she didn’t think she was too far off the mark, if not hitting the bullseye.
“You’re not to get involved,” her father said in Dad Voice.
Uh-oh.
“Dad—”
“Chloe, I know you. If there’s no drama, you create it. And losing Corey, especially him taking his own life, now whatever happened with this, she’s had enough drama for a while, don’t you think?”
“There’s good drama and bad drama, Dad.”
“Says only you.”
Chloe could debate that, but now was not the time.
“I’m driving, so maybe now isn’t a good time to have an annoying conversation with my dad.”
“Honey, leave it alone.”
She was not going to lie outright to her father.
But she was not above a sin by omission.
Thus, she said nothing.
“Chloe, did you hear me?”
“I heard you, Dad.”
“Christ, I could have skipped a generation of another one of your grandmother. It’d be cute, having a granddaughter who was a pain in her parents’ ass. A daughter, not so much.”
Chloe fake gasped and said, “I’m wounded, mon père bien-aimé calling me a pain in the ass.”
“Stop speaking French at me.”
“If you didn’t want me to speak French, you shouldn’t have sent me to France.”
“We didn’t think you’d stay there for three years.”
“I can’t imagine why, you’d both been to France, repeatedly. And you both know me, through and through. You knew, once France met me, and I met France, if I didn’t love you so much, which necessitated me returning home occasionally, I would never leave.”
“The worst part about that is, I can’t argue it.”
Chloe grinned.
“Honey, seriously,” he said, and he did it sounding serious, “think hard about whatever it is you’re doing.”
She already had.
So she felt it wasn’t (exactly) even a fib to say, “I will, Dad. Love you.”
“Love you more.”
That was their usual sign off, so she disconnected.
She then drove the rest of the way out of town, eventually turning into a gravel drive.
She hadn’t gone this far when she’d followed Rodney up. She’d driven past, turned around, and waited for their exit.
She didn’t actually need to do this sleuthing stuff; Mary had given her his address.
But she couldn’t track her mom’s movements real-time if she didn’t.
Now, by the time she’d stopped in front of that magnificent house beside that stunning lake she oh-so-totally saw her mom loving, and loving to live there, and she got out of the Range Rover, he was standing at the top of the steps.
She’d Googled the hell out of him when her mom shared all that was going down, so it was not lost on Chloe that Duncan Holloway was a looker.
But even if he wasn’t her type, and he was old enough to be her dad, IRL, he was gorgeous.
She rounded her car and he called, “Can I help you with something?” as she headed toward the steps.
Nice voice too.
She kept going and stopped two steps down from him. “Hi, I’m Chloe Pierce.”
She sensed a pang of not-quite-recognition, maybe because she had some of her mom’s features, maybe because he knew the name Tom Pierce.
But he did not know her.
Beautiful, super-famous Imogen Swan and talented, hot stud tennis player Tom Pierce suffered the paparazzi and fans like the pros they were.
But both morphed straight to feral when it came to their children.
In other words, she, nor Sasha nor Matt, had been paraded around as accessories.
Her parents’ public life was public.
Their private life, especially family, was vehemently private.
To the point the world went apeshit when they broke up, thinking that they were solid and always would be.
But after some time, they got it (or got used to it), when Mom and Dad did it in a way they actually fulfilled the usual lie of “we remain the best of friends.”
They were, to this day, the best of friends.
Chloe had struggled with it at the time of the split. Her relationship with her dad took a hit.