He lingered on the thought of her standing in the doorway and then told himself he was pathetic again.

Over was over. He was stupid to hang around here hoping to catch another glimpse of her.

He would have left altogether, except Alex had said he wanted to talk to him. Grant sat down in a chair, tilted his head back, and waited.

A few moments later Alex came in. Alex Kingsley was usually laid back. It showed in everything from his sauntering walk to the way he spoke—unhurried and thoughtful. Now there was a marked tension to his movements. He went and stood in front of Grant, hands thrust into his pocket, a somber expression on his face.

“My daughter wanted me to talk to you, to explain some things. Before I can do that, I have to explain some things in my own life.” Alex looked past Grant for a moment, then reigned his gaze back in. “Some things I’m not exactly proud of.” He took a small object out of his shirt pocket and closed his hand around it. “You knew Kari’s mother died when she was a baby?”

Grant nodded. “I read about it in Lorna’s book.”

Alex opened his palm to reveal a sapphire necklace. It swung from its chain, lazily flashing blue in the bright overhead lights. “Have you ever seen this?”

Grant nodded again. “Kari never took it off.”

A flash of pain went through Alex’s eyes and he sighed. “I bought this for my wife when I was out on the road. She died before I could give it to her. I left it in my guitar case. I don’t know why. I just couldn’t take it out.” Alex kept his gaze on the necklace, slowly turning it between his fingers. “About eight months later I was on tour again in Charleston, and while I was up on stage, I saw this beautiful woman in the front row. She looked so much like my wife I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I stared at her through every song, and toward the end I pulled her up on the stage to dance with me. Then I asked her to wait backstage.”

Alex paused and his voice dropped. “I gave her this necklace. I guess I just wanted to be rid of it.” His gaze returned to Grant and his tone changed. “I don’t want you to think I approve of what I did next, especially since you’re dating my daughter. What I did was wrong. And foolish. And wrong. And I would have to hurt you if you did the same thing.”

Grant said, “You slept with her?”

“And it was wrong.”

So this was why Alex had wanted to talk to him? To give him a keep-your-hands-off-my-daughter speech? Talk about wasting his breath. Grant put his hands on his knees, ready to stand up. “Look, Kari and I aren’t even dating anymore, so you don’t need too—”

“You weren’t dating Kari,” Alex said. “Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve said?” He held out the necklace to Grant. “I gave this necklace to Sabrina Garcia. She gave it to her daughter, Alexia—to my daughter, Alexia. Kari never wore it at all.”

Grant stared at him, hearing and yet not quite grasping the words. “Kari wore it all the time. I saw it.”

Alex spoke slowly, carefully. “When you brought me here before the concert, I didn’t find Kari in the dressing room. That was Alexia. Maren saw a picture of her and hired her to pretend to be Kari at concerts while Kari was, well, unavailable. They look so much alike, most people wouldn’t know the difference.”

Now Grant did stand up. “That wasn’t Kari in the dressing room?”

Alex nodded.

“That wasn’t Kari?” Grant asked again. He wasn’t expecting a different answer; he just had to repeat the question.

Alex looked down at the necklace, jiggling the chain. “I never knew I had another daughter. I still can hardly believe it.”

Grant turned and paced across the room, suddenly filled with energy . . . with anger. “She lied about who she was to me?”

“Alexia took the job in order to meet me.”

“And why was she dating me?”

Alex shrugged. “My guess is that she liked you.”

Grant had reached the end of the room and paced back the other way. “That’s not how you show someone you like him—you don’t pretend to be someone completely different. You don’t lie about who you are. You don’t break up with him for no reason and then never speak to him again.”

Alex turned so he was facing Grant. “I don’t know what went on between you and Alexia. You know her better than I do. She just asked me to explain the situation to you.”

Grant looked around the room, at the empty furniture and trays of hors d’oeuvres that no one had touched. “Did she give you any other messages for me?”

Alex hesitated, then answered, “No.”

“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.