time." She blew out a breath as he left the room, grateful to have nothing but silence surrounding her because her thoughts were screaming inside her head.
Her father could not have been in his mother's car the day Natasha died. He would have said something. Phillip would have known. It couldn't be true. Or could it?
She jumped to her feet, restlessness and worry running through her.
Was this why her father was so upset about her movie? Was this why he'd practically bribed her to call it off? Had he been with his mom in the car before she OD'd? Had Natasha taken all those pills because of some fight she'd had with her son?
Sylvia came around the corner and gave her an odd look. "Are you all right?"
She realized everything was showing on her face—all the turmoil, all the uncertainty. "Yes, I'm fine," she replied, pulling herself together.
"You don't look fine. Did Constantine upset you? Did he know something about your grandmother's death?"
"We had a good conversation. I'm just trying to put all the information together."
"It must be strange hearing about a woman who shares your blood but one you never had the chance to meet. You have to decide what you think of her based on what other people say."
"Yes, I do."
"And what they say might not be true. How would you know if someone was just telling you a story?"
Was there something behind Sylvia's words? The manager seemed to put innuendo into every sentence that came out of her mouth.
"I have to trust they're telling me the truth," she said.
"Most people tell their version of the truth, which might not even be close to being true. At any rate, you need to leave this room. There's a private party gathering for drinks in here in about ten minutes."
"Of course, I'm sorry."
"You can take your wine out to the bar."
"Right." She realized she hadn't touched a drop of it. "I will do that." She grabbed her glass and followed Sylvia out of the room. Sylvia headed toward the restaurant while Maya moved more slowly toward the bar. She really wanted to talk to Jax about her conversation with Constantine, but he was working. She couldn't interrupt him. She shouldn't interrupt him.
It wasn't like they were friends. In fact, she didn't know what they were. She just wished she wasn't so attracted to him, both physically and emotionally. She liked talking to him, liked hearing his perspective on things. He was more objective, less emotional, and he had great insight. She had the feeling he was much smarter than he let on.
Jax turned his head, meeting her gaze.
She gave him a half-hearted smile, fairly certain he'd look away as quickly as he could. But to her surprise, he didn't.
His brows drew together in concern. Then he said something to the other bartender and walked out from behind the bar. He moved straight toward her. After his behavior earlier, she'd been expecting him to completely ignore her.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Sylvia just asked me the same question."
"You look like you saw a ghost."
"No. I just heard about one."
"I have a ten-minute break. Want to take a walk?"
"Very much," she said, following him out of the bar. He led her down a side hallway and then out a back door.
"Where are we going?"
"Someplace we can talk," he said, walking briskly down a path. "The sunset deck is usually empty after seven when the sun goes down."
He was right, the deck was empty. The sun had gone down behind the nearest hill, but it was still light out and the view was amazing, the city of Los Angeles spread out before them.
"The city looks different from up here," she said. "You can see the traffic on the freeways, but you're not sitting in it. It feels more magical. From here, Hollywood looks like a place where dreams come true."
"You got all that from the view?"
"Actually, I got it from Natasha's journal. She talked about coming out on this deck and looking out at the city, the place where she'd become a star." She turned to face him. "She was a tough woman, you know. She grew up in poverty, lost her mother, then her father, and was eventually shipped off to the States to live with a relative she barely knew. She fought her way to the top of the entertainment world. Does that sound like someone who would just give up and kill herself?"