He leans down and runs his big hand over the top of her head. “Taken her out a couple times. Around the neighborhood.”
“Yeah?” Chaser’s eyes widen to cartoon size. “You like it?”
“Yes.” More little giggles.
“Cool.” Chaser holds out his palm and Trinity slaps him a tiny high-five.
Ovaries explosion.
The clubhouse door swings open behind us. Heavy sets of boots crunch over gravel. Chaser slowly rises and stands next to me.
“Ready to do this, Bishop?” a gruff voice I don’t recognize says.
Bishop grits his teeth as the man slaps his shoulder. “Yup.”
“Oh, hey, Trinity,” the man says. His gaze lingers on her too long for my taste. He’s shorter than both Bishop and Chaser but thick and muscled. Shoulders as wide as a Buick. His chiseled face could probably find work in Hollywood.
Trinity shuffles closer to me, shying away. I bend over and pick her up, running my hand over her back.
He gives me a long, slow eye-fondle. “Who’s your new woman, Bishop?”
Bishop’s expression hardens to stone. “This is Chaser’s ol’ lady.”
Chaser slings his arm over my shoulders and stares the other man down.
“Well, shit. It was your engagement we were celebrating, wasn’t it?” He lifts his gaze to Chaser. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks, Tyler. How you been?”
“Can’t complain.”
“Be good for Mallory and Chaser, okay, Trinny?” Bishop leans in and kisses her cheek.
“O-tay!”
He briefly touches my arm. “Thank you for this. Didn’t mean to cut into your—”
“It’s really no problem, Bishop.”
“You got a kiss for your Uncle Tyler, Trinity?”
She doesn’t answer, just clings to me tighter. Disgusted, I move to my car and tuck her into the backseat.
Bishop hands me a bag. “Some clothes. Her favorite blankie. She won’t sleep without it.”
I accept the bag, setting it on the seat next to Trinity. “Thanks.”
Bishop and Tyler shake hands with Chaser before leaving. I’ve already said goodbye to Bishop and Tyler gives me the creeps, so I slide into the front seat and start the car.
“You okay back there?” I ask Trinity.
“Uh-huh.” She peers out the window, watching her father’s truck drive away and the look on her face breaks my heart.
“It’s okay. Your daddy will be home in a couple days.”
“I know.”
Chaser knocks on my window and I roll it down. “I’m gonna follow you home, okay?” He peers in the back at Trinity. “You comfy back there, squirt?”
“Yup!”
“Good.” He taps the roof of the car twice. “See you at home.”
Chaser
Took all my control not to punch Tyler for eyeballin’ my girl. Don’t know how Bishop puts up with that asshole as his president.
I’m not exactly sure how we’re going to entertain a kid for the next couple days. Haven’t really been around many since I was one myself.
Mallory seems to have it covered though.
“Are you hungry?” she asks once we’re in the house.
Trinity found the Barbies and she’s definitely a fan. She glances up from the pile and shakes her head.
“Let me know if you get hungry, okay?” Mallory wrings her hands. “Should we take her out to like a park or something?”
“She’s fine. Stop worrying.”
It’s not a bad night. Mallory makes SpaghettiOs with Meatballs with a side of hot dogs. I pop in some Disney movie and curl up on the couch with Mallory. Trinity crawls into her lap and passes out halfway into the movie.
“She’s so sweet,” Mallory whispers, running her hand over Trinity’s long blonde ponytail. “I want one just like her.”
I think this is the point where I’m supposed run from the room but I can see us doing this in a couple years. “I don’t think you can order ‘em out of a catalog. Just to warn you, I was a pretty rambunctious kid.”
“Surprise, surprise.” She leans back and rolls her eyes at me. “Well, I was a quiet kid.”
“I want our kids to be kids. Not always afraid of doing something wrong.”
“I wasn’t…afraid. Well, maybe a little of my father.”
“You must’ve been so fuckin’ cute.”
She taps my chest. “Language.”
I snort. “She’s sound asleep. Besides, I’m sure she hears much worse at home.”
She glances down at Trinity again. “Think we should put her to bed? I forgot to ask Bishop her bedtime and stuff.”
“Yeah, probably. I hope she doesn’t freak in the middle of the night or something.”
“I’ll leave our door open.”
“How are we supposed to start on our own babies, then?”
She slaps my chest. “Help me carry her upstairs?”
The next morning, my father calls while the girls are making pancakes.
“What’s up?”
“Uh, I need you to get over here. And bring Trinity.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Her mother’s looking for her and she’s pissed.”
“Sweet Jesus. Are you fuckin’ kidding me.”
“Ooooo. Chather said a bad word,” Trinity says to Mallory.
Mallory throws a scowl at me and I shrug.
“All right. We’ll be there in a few. We’re in the middle of breakfast.”
“What’s wrong?” Mallory asks.
“Her mom’s looking for her.”
“Oh.”
“I want to stay.” Trinity pouts.
Mallory’s eyes shimmer with tears but she pastes on a bright smile. “It’s okay. Maybe you’ll get to come over and visit next time we’re home.”
Trinity sits at the table and picks at the plate of pancakes Mallory sets in front of her. After breakfast, Mallory packs up her stuff, tossing the dolls, coloring books, and other toys she bought in Trinity’s bag.
“You’re bummed too, huh?” I ask, watching her gather everything.
“A little.”
It’s a whole big scene at the clubhouse. As soon as Nora sees Trinity holding Mallory’s hand, she kicks up a cloud of dust racing over to us.
“Are you sleeping with my husband?” she demands, getting up in Mallory’s face. “You can have him, but you’re not taking my daughter too.”
“Whoa.” I hold my arm out, pushing her back and blocking her from getting any closer. “Ease up, Nora. Bishop asked if we could help him out. That’s all.”
She squats down and yanks Trinity into her arms.
The entire situation is fucked up.
As soon as Nora burns rubber out of the parking lot, my father storms inside the clubhouse. His thunderous voice shakes the building while he yells at Trick once again for fucking around with Bishop’s wife.
I squeeze Mallory to my side. “What a way to cap off our vacation, huh?”
She swipes a tear off her cheek. “Almost as crazy as L.A.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mallory
Somehow when our plane arrives in L.A., people already know about our engagement.
The crush of reporters vying for a peek at my ring or yelling questions, leaves me shaking.
“Who did we tell?” I ask Chaser when we’re finally enclosed in the car he arranged to pick us up.
“Alvin. I might have mentioned it to Thom. The whole entire club—but none of them would ever talk to the press. That’s it.”
He asks our driver to stop and dashes out of the car to a curbside news stand, returning a few minutes later with a handful of papers. He shows me the first page of one of the more vile tabloids.
Rock Royalty, Ready to Take the Plunge!
“Are we the ‘rock royalty’?” I ask, reaching for the paper.
“Apparently.”
Accompanying the headline is a photo of Chaser proposing.
As far as tabloid articles go, it’s tame and celebratory for a change.
“This isn’t so bad.” I tear out the article and fold it up, tucking it away in my purse. “It’s actually a nice memory.”
Chaser growls. “Had to be the boat attendant. Hope he got paid well for it. Jackass.”
I reach over and pat his leg. “It’s okay.”
“This better die down before I have to leave for Vancouver. I don’t want you putting up with those vultures while I’m away.”
“I don’t plan on going anywhere except the set and home while you’re gone.”
“You shouldn’t have to live like a shut-in. I want you to do stuff. Go where you want when you want.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll ask Cindy to come over or something. I’m sure Marilyn has auditions for me.”
Marilyn does have auditions for me. In fact, while we were gone, she left about a dozen messages on our answering machine. I stare at the phone for a few minutes and Chaser must sense my reluctance.
“Honeymoon’s over. Back to the real world, little dove.”
“Promise me our real honeymoon will be longer.” I stare down at my ring and then the stack of newspapers. “And somewhere no one can find us.”
He steps closer and skims his knuckles over my cheek. “Promise.”
Tears sting my eyes but I blink them away. “I hate that you’re leaving again.”
He swallows hard, then shrugs. “This is path we’ve chosen for now, Mallory. You can always come with me.”
Not expecting his harsh tone, I blink and stare at him. “I can’t. I have to be on set.”
“And I have to be in the studio. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Wow. I don’t know how to respond, so I duck my head and pick up the phone. “I better call her back.”
“I’m going to unpack and do some laundry.”
“Okay,” I whisper, watching him walk away. The honeymoon really is over.
A painful lump in my throat expands and settles in my chest. Maybe Chaser’s tired of me being so clingy? Or maybe he really expects me to blow off work and go to Vancouver with him for the next month. Whatever the reason, it takes me a few minutes to compose myself enough to call Marilyn.
“Mallory! Are you in town? Please tell me—”
Not in the mood for her theatrics this afternoon, I cut her off. “I’m back.”
“Congratulations on the engagement.”
“Thanks,” I mumble.
“I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
I hate this game. “Bad news.”
“Don’t freak out. The exercise video...it’s not quite what we’d hoped for.”
“We didn’t hope for anything. You talked me into doing it as a lucrative revenue stream.”
“I know. I know. It’s not awful. Not the end of the world.”
“What’s wrong, then?”
“It’s um…a bit more salacious than I anticipated.”
“Salacious, how?”
“Well,” she draws out the word until I’m ready to scream. “The angles. The way it was shot. The outfit. The cheesy music. Overall, it feels more like soft core porn than an exercise video.”
“What?” My voice wobbles. “I was in a leotard and tights.”
“Oh, you look fabulous, honey. Killer. It’s just a bit tasteless.”
“That’s great.”
“It’s fine. You’ve already been paid. We just won’t participate in any of the promotion for it. Let it die on the vine. No biggie. We just move on.”
I’m tempted to point out, yet again, that she’s the one who talked me into wasting my time and energy on this project, but she’s right. I was paid—well—for it. I doubt it’s much worse than the ‘Candy Jar’ video or any of the other music videos I’ve shot. Lesson learned.
“What’s the good news?” I ask.
“It’s really good, Mallory. Really, really good. So good, you won’t want to fire me for the exercise video debacle.”
Wow, Marilyn was really worried. Or the video’s worse than she said.
“I’m not going to fire you, Marilyn.”
“Good.” She takes a long, dramatic pause. “Scout Southgate is putting together a weekly primetime soap opera. And he wants you to audition for it.”
I take a second to absorb the information. “Scout Southgate knows who I am?”
She snorts into the phone. “Apparently, his daughter will be starring on the show—don’t even get me started on how that horse-faced twit can’t act her way out of a paper bag—but she’s a big fan of yours and told her daddy you’re perfect for this role.”
“Madeline Southgate knows who I am?” I’m still having trouble processing.
“Yes, Mallory. People know who you are,” she says patiently. “That’s the whole point of this acting thing, right?”
“Right. Okay, so when and where? And what do I do about Shallow End?”
“No one wants you to leave Shallow End. In fact, for now, I want you to keep this on the down low. Especially from Pamela Scott.” She scoffs. “Not that anyone would buy her in this role, but still.”
“What’s the part?”
“Clueless virgin teenager from some hick town, who moves to Hollywood with the rest of her hillbilly family.”
That’s a lot of insults in one sentence to decipher. “Uh, okay.”
“It’s better than bimbo bouncing up and down in her bathing suit, right?”
“I guess.”
“A little more excitement and gratitude would be nice, Mallory.”
“Oh, I’m excited. Do you think I can pull off playing a teenager, though?”
“You barely look eighteen as it is. Madeline’s at least two years older than you and she’s playing your best friend. Your ‘brother’ on the show is about thirty. You’ll fit in perfectly.”
“Wait, you’re talking about this as if I already have the part?”
“I told you, they’re extremely eager to have you audition.”
“Wow. When and where?”
“Now that you’re home, I’ll get the audition set up. What’s your schedule like?”
I give her my plans for the week and she promises to try and work in the audition so I don’t have to take time off from Shallow End. After one more reminder to keep the audition to myself
I’m still staring at the phone after I hang up, absorbing the information.
“Sounds like a promising audition,” Chaser says.
I glance over and find him in the hallway, leaning on the wall, partially hidden by mid-afternoon shadows.
“It is. I think.” I relay everything Marilyn told me.
“How are you going to find the time to be on two shows?” he asks mildly.
For some reason, the question ignites my insecurities. About my career, our relationship…everything. “I’ll figure it out if I get the part, I guess.”
He grunts in response.
“Are you…mad at me?” I ask.
He doesn’t immediately answer no, which unleashes more anxiety.
“I’m tired from the trip home.” He yawns and stretches as if to punctuate his explanation.
“I take it that means you want to stay in tonight?”
“Why? What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing. I thought you’d want to get together with the guys…or…?”
“Fuck that. I’ll see enough of them in the next couple weeks.” He holds his hand out to me. “I want to soak up as much time with my girl as possible.”
That’s better. “You’re not tired of me? We just spent a solid week together.”
He steps closer. “I’m never tired of you.”
“You seem…annoyed.” I don’t know why I’m persisting but I can’t stand the uneasiness hanging in the air. Not with Chaser.
He blows out a frustrated breath and bounces the side of his fist against the wall. “I’m pissed I have to leave. I wish we were recording the album here like
we’ve done all the others. Figures now that I don’t want to leave Hollywood, I have to.”
“Oh.” I breathe out a relieved sigh and move closer to him. “You trust Mark, though, right?”
“Don’t know. I’ve never worked with him before.”
“But it was a big deal to get him to work with Kickstart.”
“It was,” he agrees.
I bite my lip and glance away, worried Chaser might misinterpret my words. “Trust. You told me he’s been in the business for a long time and has produced a lot of mega-successful albums, right?”
Instead of answering, he nods slowly.
“Everyone’s still sober, right?”
“More or less.”
“Well, the change of scenery, the new producer, everyone coming to the table with clear heads, maybe all those combined factors will spark true sonic greatness.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Sonic greatness, huh?”
“Sonic awesomeness?”
“Why do you have to do that?” He wraps me up in his arms. “Just when I think I have a handle on how much I’m going to miss you.”
“What?”
“You go ahead and come up with sonic awesomeness and I don’t know how I’m supposed to leave you again for another four weeks.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Mallory
“Geez, Mallory. Did you partake in a lot of home cooking while you were away on your rock star vacation?”
As nice as I’ve tried to be to the wardrobe girls, they still hate my guts. A few weeks off didn’t mellow them out one bit. Donna’s the worst, though. She makes a big show of sighing and tugging on the straps of my bathing suit. It doesn’t feel snugger to me, but she continues grumbling about having to “go up a size.”
I pat my hip as my mouth curls into a slow smile. “My man can’t keep his hands off me, and that’s all I care about.” With a quick toss of my hair, I execute a spin and strut out of the dressing room without falling out of my flip-flops. Yay, me!
Heart still pounding—I hate confrontation—I make my way to the makeup room, searching for Cindy.
“What did deplorable Donna have to say today?” she asks as soon as she sees the defeat that must be etched on my face.
Wheels of Fire (Hollywood Demons Book 3) Page 16
