weren’t you?”
“We decided not to go.”
“Not to go!” he repeated, surprised. “But you already have your tickets. And you love Vegas! The last time I went there with you, I had to pry you away from the tables with a crowbar. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
For a long moment his father didn’t say a word. And in the silence of his hesitation, Max knew what he was going to say before his next words ever left his mouth. “We’re getting a divorce.”
“Dammit, Dad!”
“There’s no use getting upset about it,” his father grumbled. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”
“Yeah, and they all have a name,” he retorted. “Susan, Karen, Bridgett, Laura… Shall I go on?”
“I don’t regret a single one of my marriages,” John Sullivan said stiffly. “I loved every one of my wives.”
“You just couldn’t stay married to them. I thought Joanna was the love of your life. Of course, that’s what you said about Cathy and Tanya and—”
“I was hoping for a little sympathy. This isn’t easy for me, you know. Just because this is my eighth divorce doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”
“I know that, Dad.” He sighed, guilt tugging at him at his father’s wounded tone. “I know how crazy you were about Joanna. What happened?”
“She thinks I’m having an affair.”
“And are you?”
“Of course not!” he said indignantly. “I’ve never cheated on any of my wives. I would think you’d know that about me.”
Now he’d hurt his feelings. Swearing under his breath, he reminded himself that his father really was hurting. “I’m sorry, Dad,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t faithful. I just don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself.”
“What? Getting married…or divorced?”
“Both! You’re too old for this.” He knew his father didn’t want to hear anything negative when he was already down, but Max had held his tongue for too long. “The world’s changed, Dad. It’s not like it was when you and Mom were young. You don’t have to marry every woman you want to sleep with.”
“Watch it,” John Sullivan warned. “You’re starting to sound like a cynic.”
“Because I don’t put myself through the torture that you do?” he retorted. “C’mon, Dad! There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a woman, then letting her go. You don’t have to complicate your life by marrying her.”
“You’re talking about sex,” his father said flatly.
Max didn’t deny it. “You’re damn straight. And what’s wrong with that?”
“Because there’s more to life than sex,” the older man said indignantly.
Max winced. “There you go again—talking about love. It doesn’t exist, Dad. Haven’t you figured that out? That’s why marriage doesn’t work. You let your raging hormones convince you you’ve found your soul mate, and while you’re under the influence, you make everything nice and legal. Then the magic wears off and you lose half of everything to a woman you no longer ‘love.’ You’ve got to stop this.”
He was truly worried about his father, but he might as well have saved his breath. John Sullivan had always been an eternal optimist, and if eight failed marriages couldn’t change that, than nothing else could. “You’re the one who needs to stop the way you’re living, son. What are you now…twenty-six?”
“Twenty-eight,” he said dryly.
“Almost thirty,” his father said. “And you’ve never had a serious relationship, never fallen in love. And that worries me. If you keep this up, you’re going to miss out on what life is all about. And I don’t want to hear that malarkey about love being nothing more than raging hormones. If you’d ever been in love, you would know that it’s a hell of a lot more than that. It’s finding someone you can share not just your bed with but your life. Aren’t you lonely?”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Max said quickly. “You’re not going to turn this around and make it all about me. I’m perfectly happy with my life, thank you very much. Let’s stick to the subject—you.”
Far from offended, John Sullivan only laughed. “A bit touchy, are we? What’s the matter? Did I hit a nerve?”
“Dad, I’m warning you!”
“Just think over what I said,” he said, sobering. “Okay?”
“If you’ll do the same,” Max replied. “I mean it. I’m worried about you.”
“I’ll be fine,” his father assured him gruffly. “I just need some time.”
“Let’s have dinner next week,” he suggested, frowning. “We’ll go to Pete’s and have some ribs. I’ll take you for your birthday.”
“Hey, that sounds good. I can’t remember the last time I went to Pete’s.”
Not surprised that he’d jumped at the offer—his father had been going to Pete’s for ribs since before he was born—Max grinned. “I’ll see you Wednesday, then. Are you still at the apartment?”
Just that easily the conversation returned to the divorce. John Sullivan’s sigh carried easily across the phone line. “Yeah, but it just doesn’t seem the same without Joanna. She’s moved in with her daughter.”
“It’ll take time, Dad,” Max said quietly. “Try not to let it get you down.”
As he hung up, however, Max knew his father was hurting. He was a sensitive man who didn’t handle rejection—or divorce—well. He always moped around, stuck close to the house and generally felt sorry for himself for at least a month. Then—just when it seemed like he would never smile again—he would meet someone and the roller-coaster ride would start all over again.
If it would just end there, Max thought as he returned his attention to his writing, there would be nothing to worry about. But it was only a matter of time before his father planned his next proposal—he couldn’t seem to help himself.
Just thinking about it made Max groan. Returning his attention to his writing, he tried to dismiss his father’s troubles from his mind but without much success. When the phone rang again twenty minutes later, he hadn’t written a single word.
Irritated with himself, he reached for the phone. “Yes?”
“Uh-oh, I don’t like the sound of that. I take it you’re still having problems.”
At the sound of his editor’s voice, a reluctant grin curled the corners of Max’s mouth. “How’d you guess?”
“You sound just a little bit testy,” Katherine Stevens replied. “Have you pulled all your hair out yet?”
“Not
