by Cynthia Dane
One bodyguard went ahead of her while the other stayed behind. Claire ducked into the executive elevator, something she had been granted access to ever since the engagement was announced months ago. The slight lurch of the aging device made her more nauseas than the elevator in Jake’s apartment building did. The baby certainly didn’t like it. Claire never had so much gas in her life when she stepped off the elevator and onto the executive floor. Somehow, it was fitting. Nothing said that she was there to further ruin Arthur’s life like burping up half her lunch before she reached the receptionist, currently juggling a million callers and giving them all the same stock greeting of, “No, Mr. Carter will not respond!”
“Claire!” Arthur clamped his hand over his heart when he saw her stroll into his office. He glanced at the two bodyguards. “What the hell are you doing here?”
That was it? A caustic semi-accusation? What? Did he think she was there to ask for money? To accuse him of sexual harassment, or worse? That would be a riot. I kinda wish he would. Laying into him would be the sweetest thing I could ever hope for.
The moment was already sweet, honestly. Because one of the men Arthur was having a meeting with was none other than Jake, who chuckled at his wife’s sudden presence. (He had known she was coming, of course. This was all a part of their plan after Jake received an emergency summons to his father’s office that morning.)
“I’m here to make your life an even bigger hell than it already is, Arthur.” Claire brushed her bangs out of her face. Her 24-karat princess cut diamond wedding ring flashed in the light. Arthur certainly noticed it, and he knew it looked nothing like her engagement ring – something she had sold the same day she and her husband bought their wedding bands. The proceeds of the sale went to the victims’ legal fund. “Let’s start with how I’m breaking up with you. At least before you can break up with me.”
“Of course you’re breaking up with me!” Arthur tossed his folder into the air. The assistant standing behind him caught it before it could hit the floor. “Do you think I’m an idiot? Tell me something I don’t know, Claire.”
Ohoho, he walked right into it, hadn’t he?
“Let’s start with the fact that I’m almost five months pregnant and, duh, it’s not yours.” Claire couldn’t hide her bulge anymore, anyway. Or at least not when she took off her baggy sweatshirts, sweaters, and jackets. Like she did now, when her jacket landed on the back of Jake’s chair. She had made sure to wear a tight dress to show off the baby bump. The obstetrician is pretty sure it’s a girl, but he’s not 100% sure yet. Even more reason to cut ties from this monster. “Get calling me a slut and whore out of your system now, Arthur, because I’m already bored. Especially considering how many women you screwed – over, I might add – during our engagement.”
“Told you,” one of the assistants muttered. Arthur threw his pencil across the room. Everyone on his supposed side flinched.
“Who’s the father, huh?” Arthur laughed. “I bet it’s one of the handymen! Or, let me guess… one of your male lead friends who can’t keep it in his pants.”
“It’s me, Dad.” Jake pushed himself up from his chair. Arthur lost the smile on his face. “When I told you that I had met someone special, it was Claire. We’ve been together for almost three months now.”
Arthur’s eyes widened to the point that Claire worried they would pop out of his skull. “You ungrateful little…”
“You always told me that I needed to be more sexually aggressive, Dad.” The more Jake had told Claire about his relationship with his father, the happier Claire had been that her husband was severing all ties with him. The things he told his own son growing up… how did Jake not turn out like him? “What’s more aggressive than the cub ripping away his father’s own bride for himself?”
Arthur had nothing nice to say. Claire made sure to not commit those words to memory.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Dad.” Jake gestured to the man sitting next to him, who had been silent until now. Claire recognized her husband’s lawyer. It was the same man representing the women, not that Arthur knew that yet. “You’re going to step down from the company and hand everything over to me. Your name has completely tarnished the business, and I’m afraid you’ve left me a lot of shit to clean up. Which I’ll do, by the way, because there are still many good men and women who rely on this company to feed their families and create the next generation of dreams. But you will have no part of it.”
“I will do no such thing.”
“Afraid you don’t have a choice, Mr. Carter.” The lawyer handed over a piece of paper. “There’s a morality clause in the contract your own lawyers had you sign when you established this company forty years ago. Afraid the recent allegations make it clear that there’s not much room left for you here.”
“What about him, huh?” Arthur pointed a finger in his son’s face. “He signed the same clause! What’s ethical about knocking up his father’s fiancée? Let alone having a baby out of wedlock!”
“Oh, that’s right, Arthur.” Claire twiddled her fingers in front of him again. “We got married a few days ago. I really am Mrs. Carter, now, but you were unable to make it to the ceremony in Vegas. You’ll also not be invited to the reception we’re throwing next month.”
“After all, your engagement to my wife may be concluded, Dad, but we might as well use those lovely reservations you made.”
“Married… baby!” Jake had been right that his father would be irater about this turn of events than losing his own company – or the allegations against him. That was the kind of man he was, after all. “I can’t believe you would do this to your own father, boy. What kind of man are you? Did your mother put you up to this?”
“Mother had nothing to do with it. At the end of the day, I am still your son in many ways. Just not the terrible ones, thank you.”
“Why, you…”
Arthur’s assistant clamped his hand on his boss’s shoulder. “Sir, I think it’s wise if we call your lawyer again. He’ll know what to do.”
“Yes,” Jake’s lawyer said. “That sounds like a grand idea. I’d love to have a chat with your lawyer, Mr. Carter. I have a feeling that he and I will be seeing a lot of each other in the coming future.”
Claire took her husband’s hand and walked with him out of Arthur’s office. Hope you have a heart attack and choke. No, no. She wouldn’t have such toxic thoughts – or at least not until the baby was born. That was the promise she made shortly after marrying Jake and deciding to take her new life seriously.
Threatening words and promises to end their careers followed them into the hallway. The bodyguards ushered the Carters into the elevator before Arthur’s security could do it for them.
“That was amazing,” Claire said, adrenaline tickling her senses. “Are you really getting him to sign over the company based on some antiquated morality clause?”
“I aim to. It’s about time someone got this company back on track. It may still make money, but I can’t say I’m proud of how my father has handled the script acquisitions and… well, you see how casting has been going.”
“The blacklists aren’t coming fast enough.” Hollywood was having the upheaval of the twenty-first century, and it started when women came forward with a multitude of horror stories about shitty producers, perverted actors, and the conditions that were condoned because men could get away with them. Arthur wasn’t the only one having a bad month. Some of his producer buddies, casting agents, and high-profile actors that often came by the Carter home were implicated. Claire had never seen people react in such a way, and she could only credit social media for finally making it happen. Even her own talent agency had blacklisted the studio until “a makeover was performed.” “Hopefully this will mean changes are afoot.”
“I hope so, but I’m not going to hold out for too much hope.” Jake squeezed her hand. “One step at a time. We don’t want to get too overwhelmed in both public and private.”
“Yes. We’ve go
t enough to overwhelm us at home.”
Every time Claire brought up their baby, Jake smiled as if he were finding out for the first time. That’s exactly what she searched for when she referenced their hectic private life of finding suitable dwellings for a young family – and getting ready to greet that family.
“I have a surprise for you, Mrs. Carter.”
She turned toward him. The elevator was big enough to allow that much movement between two burly bodyguards. “A surprise? Did you finally get us a place to live?”
“Not quite. My realtor is still lining up places for us to check out.” Jake wrapped his arm around his wife. “Something even more personal than that. I’ll show you when we get home.”
“Home” meant Jake’s apartment, although Claire now spent almost every night there. She didn’t get too comfortable, since they would both be moving elsewhere soon enough, but the closet was full of her maternity clothes, and the fridge was stocked with her doctor-approved meals. It was as much of a home as her mother’s place.
The bodyguards were relieved of duty as soon as the Carters were sequestered into their small apartment. Claire removed her jacket and enjoyed the news headlines flashing on the TV screen: TV and Movie Magnates Scrambling to Get Their Stories Straight. Soon, Jake’s team would plant whispers of the morality clause into the public sphere, and the pressure would really be on Arthur to step down. Claire enjoyed the atmosphere around her so much that she barely noticed her husband sitting next to her on the couch, a thick stack of papers in his lap.
It was a script.
“What’s this?” Claire leaned against him. The tentative title on the top page was “A Love Worth Waiting For.” Was this the project Jake had been working on since they met? Why was it a surprise for her? “The fruits of your labor these past few weeks?”
“Nothing compared to yours.” Jake glanced at her stomach before handing her the script. “But yes. I scrapped the one I had been working on when we got together. Since the first day you came to this apartment, I’ve been writing something new. Something better.” He kissed her temple. “Something for you, my up-and-coming starlet.”
Claire lightly touched the top of the script. “Don’t tell me…”
“I’m going to produce this movie myself. The first project of the newly rebranded company, as soon as my father signs it over. You’re going to star in it.” He barely waited for her to respond. “I wrote the role specifically for you.”
Claire held the script to her chest. “You didn’t!”
“Don’t get excited before you even read it.” Jake continued to grin. “Well, go on! Read it! This will be the big start of your career next year.”
Were those tears in Claire’s eyes? “You really want me to pursue being an actress again?” She had hoped to do so, after the baby was born and this ordeal died down. “It doesn’t bother you that I also want to work in Hollywood?”
“Honey,” Jake kissed her fingers before heading to the other room, where he intended to hide out while she read through his script in private, “I can’t think of something more inspirational to my career. A happy wife makes a happy home, right?”
Yup. Those were tears. The happiest tears Claire had ever cried.
Epilogue
Camera lights flashed as Jake and Claire advanced down the red carpet. The January chill didn’t exist that year in southern California. It was one of the warmest winter nights on record, and Claire got away with wearing a sleeveless gown that was more beautiful than anything she had worn before marriage and a baby.
Her husband may have written the movie they attended the premier for, but it was Claire that everyone wanted to photograph. Her recently dyed hair had also been curled to give a buoyant quality that could only work on a night like that. The red lipstick and bright eyes her stylist provided before she left her downtown penthouse was likewise a smash hit in a town that loved Old Hollywood as much as it loved its pin-up models.
I might as well be a pin-up model with this baby weight. Jake told her she still glowed even after the birth of their daughter a month before. This was Claire’s first public appearance since then, however, and she soaked up the attention.
“Mrs. Carter! Mr. Carter!” They were the most well-loved Carters since Beyoncé and Jay-Z, that was for sure. Who knew I would love being Mrs. Carter this much? The press loved it, too, especially after their roles in the Hollywood accusations came to light. Yet even with the press up their asses, the newlyweds had pledged to keep their life relatively private – especially now that they were parents. The press would only get whatever answers the Carters had prepared, and that was it. “What do you have to say about the rumors that claim you’re making a movie together?”
Claire had been expecting that one. She offered the reporter a lovely smile and said, “All the rumors are true. My husband has written a wonderful new romance that we’ll begin production on next month.”
More lights went off. More shouts sounded. “Will you be starring in it, Claire?”
“No word on that, yet. I’ve merely auditioned. You should see the tape! Nine months pregnant and auditioning to be in the next hit romance movie.”
She shared a knowing look with her husband. The audition tape would be leaked that evening. Jake was so sure that his wife had knocked it out of the park that nobody would doubt her casting. At first, Claire had been slightly perturbed that Jake claimed to have loved her for years. Now? It made total and complete sense. Not a troubling thing about it when a man loved her like Jake did.
“How’s Dominique doing?”
Claire laughed. “Our daughter is healthy and keeps us up half the night. My mother-in-law says we should’ve picked a better name to honor the Dominguezes, though.”
“That’s the name I write under,” Jake explained. “My pen name is J. Dominguez, in honor of my mother’s family.”
“Carmen Carter, correct?”
“She goes by Dominguez now.”
This was exactly what they hoped the conversation would look like. Their PR advisor had sent out a memo to the major entertainment reporters that the Carters would not be accepting questions about Arthur tonight. Instead, they would rather discuss Claire’s legacy or the other side of Jake’s family, if people were that insistent that the couple were not interesting enough.
Luckily for them, there was so much news that year that it was impossible to only talk about one thing. If it wasn’t the shotgun marriage that shocked the parts of Hollywood that still had some shock in them, it was the birth of their daughter, who made front page of the papers – and then was promptly hidden away, hopefully for her childhood. The public got the newborn photos. The family got their privacy.
Neither Claire nor Jake wanted to dwell on their personal lives, however. They were more inclined to discuss the movie and the one they were working on together. Claire loved to brag that her husband wrote the role for her, but he insisted that she had to audition like everyone else. (Only nobody else auditioned, and Claire nailed hers so hard that she was more confident than ever that she could play the role of Tiffany Colt, young Hollywood heiress who goes through a string of bad boyfriends until meeting a reclusive writer in the Californian hills.)
“Come on, my lovely wife.” Jake looped his arm around his wife’s midsection and led her to the theater entrance. “We have a movie to watch. Then, home.”
Claire grinned. “I love that part. The going home part.”
“Home is where the heart is, after all. Home and family.”
“Family is the heart.”
They both stopped in the entrance of the theater. Tomorrow, they would find a million sweet pictures of them online. They would even top some of the month’s “Most Aww-inducing Pictures” lists, because everyone who saw them standing in that illuminated doorway, wearing their red carpet best, claimed it was the most wholesome display of romantic love they had ever seen. In Hollywood, no less!
“Isn’t it so nice being able to say that?”
> Claire kissed her husband’s cheek. “It is. The absolute greatest.”
Some – including their own mothers – called them fools for getting so involved so quickly. But, as Jake put it late at night in bed and through the words he wrote on the page, “We have the rest of our lives to make up for seven minutes in Heaven.”
(…At least the rest of their children were not conceived in closets. Even some couples evolved beyond that!)
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