Baby Be Mine

by Paige Toon

  ‘We’ll look after Barney!’ she bursts out. ‘Katya and I!’

  I regard her for a moment before shaking my head. ‘No, you’ve got enough on. I’ll use an agency. I’m sure it’ll be alright.’

  ‘Meg,’ she says firmly. ‘I would love to look after Barney. We’ll stay in the house so he’s in familiar surroundings, and he knows me. Plus, as I’ve already told you, Katya is dying to meet him.’

  I pause. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  My face breaks into a smile. ‘Thank you. Thank you. I’d better go and call Kitty!’

  Chapter 33

  Davey, Johnny’s driver, picks Kitty up from Rod Freemantle’s mansion and we travel to the premiere together.

  ‘Champers?’ I offer when she climbs into the back of the limo wearing black jeans and a frilly red top.

  ‘You look stunning!’ she exclaims with wide eyes.

  ‘Thank you!’ I smile and pour her a glass before putting the bottle back in the mini-fridge.

  The first time I came to one of these things I remember getting dressed up to the dozen and I was a bit embarrassed when Kitty turned up wearing jeans. I soon learned my lesson. But tonight I’m throwing caution to the wind. I haven’t been out properly since way before Barney was born – and I’m damn well going to make the most of it. Plus, I have an excuse. Johnny gave me a silvery-gold Rodarte dress as a belated birthday present. Maybe he got Lena to buy it, but I don’t care. It’s beautiful.

  I’m wearing glittery grey eye shadow and lashings of mascara and my blonde hair is piled up into a tousled bun on top of my head. I’m also wearing strappy gold heels, which I can totally get away with thanks to Davey dropping us practically at the door.

  ‘You look lovely, too.’ I clink her glass and take a sip before collapsing into giggles.

  ‘How much have you already drunk?’ she demands to know.

  ‘Nothing! This is my first one.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘I swear! I’m just so bloody excited to be going out for a night!’

  ‘What’s Johnny doing tonight?’ Kitty asks casually.

  ‘I don’t know. Hanging out with Dana, probably.’

  ‘So Lena’s looking after Barney?’

  ‘Yes.’ Kitty knows Lena through the CPA circuit, although not well. I don’t think Lena goes out very much, which is a shame because Johnny gets so many free tickets to premieres and parties and they’ll be going to waste.

  ‘That’s nice of her,’ Kitty says.

  ‘You’re telling me. Her partner is helping out.’

  Katya is lovely. Very pretty, just like Lena, but with short black hair, dark-blue eyes and a petite frame. Her nose is pierced with a diamond stud.

  ‘Johnny’s plans with Dana were too important, then?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

  ‘For him to look after Barney?’

  All of a sudden I feel a bit funny. Why didn’t he offer to look after Barney? He’s his father, after all. All he could think about was a nanny or a babysitting agency.

  ‘Er, yeah, I guess so,’ I reply.

  On second thoughts, would I actually want Johnny to look after Barney? And Dana? No. No way. I can imagine the two of them getting drunk, stoned or worse. I shudder at the thought.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Kitty asks with concern.

  ‘I’m fine. Drink up!’

  Davey drives the limo right up to the entrance to the red carpet on Hollywood Boulevard. We step out, camera bulbs flashing like strobe lights around us, and my heart starts hammering with adrenalin. The screams from the crowd are deafening as the stars in front of us walk down the red carpet, signing autographs and posing for pictures. We’re mostly ignored and that’s fine by me, but it’s amazing to soak up the atmosphere. I don’t even feel like an idiot dolled up like this. I’ve been let out for a night! I should be wearing my hair down, not up . . .

  We make our way into Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and take our seats, and then settle down to watch the action on the big screen. A camera crew outside is filming interviews with the stars as they arrive, so this part is even more fun than the film itself.

  ‘Look, there’s Will Smith!’ I say.

  ‘Good old Will. Phwoar, Jared Leto is looking pretty hot these days . . .’ Kitty comments.

  ‘Mmm, yes,’ I agree. ‘Isn’t that the blond bloke from Glee?’ I ask.

  ‘Ooh, yeah! I so fancy him. Hey, and there’s Scott from Contour Lines!’ Kitty says. ‘Who’s that new bird on his arm?’

  But I’m not looking at the girl he’s with; I’m scanning the crowd for Christian. My whole body is tense. Is he here? Will I see him face to face? He’ll be shocked to find me in LA. Will he refuse to speak to me? I wonder how he’ll feel when the news about Barney hits the press. It’s only a matter of time. I can’t even imagine how horrendous that will be for him. I have to get hold of him before that happens, whatever it takes.

  Christian is nowhere to be seen, but two hours later, when we climb back into Davey’s limo and head to the after-show party, I’m still wrought with anxiety. I eventually confide in Kitty.

  ‘I didn’t even know he was writing their biography,’ she says. ‘I thought he was writing novels?’

  ‘He still is. Kind of,’ I explain. ‘His first book didn’t do so well. So he’s gone back to his roots.’

  ‘I read his Johnny Jefferson book,’ she tells me. ‘It was good.’ She grins. ‘Amusing reading about you in there.’

  ‘I wasn’t in it that much.’

  ‘Not as much as you should have been,’ she says with a knowing wink at my tummy. ‘Open up the fridge,’ she instructs. ‘No more thinking about the bad stuff. You need more champagne.’

  I don’t disagree with her.

  The after-show party is being held nearby at a trendy new rooftop bar. We take the lift up to the top floor and relieve the hunky, bare-chested kung-fu serving staff of a couple of champagne cocktails. I’m feeling tipsy again after a top-up in the limo, but I’m not here one hundred per cent. One eye is always scanning the room for Christian.

  ‘Canapés!’ Kitty chirps, eagerly reaching for a tray of mini-spring rolls. I follow her lead. They’re delicious.

  ‘God, I miss this,’ I exclaim suddenly.

  ‘Do you?’ She beams at me.

  ‘I do!’

  ‘I missed you when you left,’ she confides. ‘It’s so cool that you’re back.’

  ‘Do you still go out a lot?’ I ask.

  ‘Sometimes. But it gets a bit tiring after a while. Same old people again and again. I’d rather hang at home.’

  ‘Are you seeing anyone?’ I forgot to ask her this the last time we caught up – we were too busy talking about my eventful past.

  ‘No,’ she replies. ‘It’s all too hard. I live with Rod so I can hardly bring men back. Living with a famous actor kind of stuffs up your love life.’

  ‘Aren’t you lonely, though?’

  The corners of her lips turn down. ‘I’m kind of getting used to it.’

  ‘When was the last time you had a boyfriend?’

  ‘Oh, God, it was years ago.’

  ‘You realise that you’ve been with Rod longer than any of his wives have?’

  ‘Don’t tell me that!’ she cries.

  ‘You may as well be married to him,’ I point out, giggling.

  ‘Jeepers creepers.’ She shakes her head in horror.

  I try to ignore the fact that she just said ‘jeepers creepers’. Nope, I can’t.

  ‘Did you really just say, “jeepers creepers”?’

  ‘Yes, why?’ She looks confused and I start to laugh. ‘Should I say “bollocks” instead?’ Her English accent is truly terrible and we both burst into laughter.

  ‘Having fun?’ A sexy, bare-chested waiter interrupts us. He’s wearing nothing aside from black kung-fu style pants and a bandanna across his brow.

  ‘We’d have more fun if you left us the whole tray.’ Ki
tty indicates the vast array of dim sums in front of us. The waiter grins at her. ‘On second thoughts, you can stay,’ she adds with a smile.

  ‘I wish I could,’ he replies flirtatiously.

  ‘Well, maybe we could hook up later,’ she suggests with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘Maybe we could.’ He winks at her and moves on.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ I exclaim. ‘That Rod comment must’ve really got to you.’

  ‘Marriage is far from my mind. But a night of hot sex really wouldn’t go amiss.’

  ‘Well, as long as you don’t say, “jeepers creepers”, you could be in luck.’

  We laugh again. ‘Ooh, prawn toasts!’ she cries, running after a tray.

  I suddenly sense someone standing beside me and I whip around, expecting it to be Christian. It’s not; but my relief is short-lived.

  ‘Meg Stiles.’

  ‘Hello, Charlie.’

  Charlie used to be a CPA back when I worked for Johnny. I disliked her the moment I met her – which is unusual for me. She’s shorter and skinnier than me, and her long, dead-straight chestnut hair has been cut into a bob. She’s wearing tight black leather leggings with heels, and a black and white asymmetric top. She has a sprinkling of freckles around her nose and cheeks and would be considered pretty, but there’s something unpleasant about her eyes – there always has been.

  ‘I didn’t know you were back in LA,’ she says. ‘Who are you working for?’

  ‘No one,’ I reply, trying not to give anything away in my facial expressions. ‘I’m here for pleasure, not business.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Kitty returns, her face falling when she sees who has joined us. ‘Hello,’ she says unenthusiastically.

  ‘How’s Rod?’ Charlie asks.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Still married?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s a novelty.’ She sniggers before returning the subject to us. ‘I wasn’t aware you two had kept in touch.’

  We both nod indifferently. Kitty will know that the last person I want finding out about Barney and Johnny is standing right in front of us.

  ‘Does Johnny know you’re back in town?’ she asks pertinently.

  My heart skips a beat. ‘Yes,’ I reply honestly. ‘I’m staying with him.’

  ‘You’re . . . you’re staying with him?’ Charlie stutters. She wasn’t expecting that response.

  I shrug. ‘We’re mates.’

  ‘Mates? But what about Dana?’

  ‘His girlfriend doesn’t mind him having female friends, you know.’

  ‘But . . . but . . . I thought it all ended badly with you?’

  ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ I ask flippantly. ‘Oh, he was a nightmare to work with, but no hard feelings. It’s cool hanging out at his house, and Dana’s really nice.’ Okay, so that part’s a lie.

  ‘Wow.’ That’s all she can say.

  ‘Who are you working with now?’ I ask pleasantly.

  ‘Isla,’ she replies, still distracted by my revelation. I bet she thought she knew everything about Johnny and me. She couldn’t be more wrong.

  ‘Is she back in LA?’ Isla Montagne is a silly young socialite who Charlie worked for before she moved to the UK to be with her boyfriend. Who turned out to be gay. Whoops.

  ‘She’s been back for two years. Have you been living under a rock?’ she asks scathingly.

  I laugh it off. ‘I haven’t really been keeping up to date with matters of celebrity . . .’ I say in a plummy voice.

  She gives me a weird look and walks off without saying another word.

  ‘That was short and brief,’ I say, taking a gulp of champagne.

  ‘Not short and brief enough,’ Kitty replies.

  ‘My feet are killing me,’ I admit. ‘Can we go and find somewhere to sit down?’

  ‘Sure.’

  We squeeze our way through the crowd and find a bunch of tables and chairs near the swimming pool. A rooftop bar in LA is not a rooftop bar without a swimming pool. There are a fair few vacant seats – most of the people here would rather be working the room than sitting on the sidelines. I collapse on a chair with a sigh and stretch my legs out in front of me.

  ‘I’m not used to wearing high heels.’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  I turn sharply to see who asked this question and find myself face to face with an absolutely, totally and utterly gorgeous man. He has short black hair and his eyes are the darkest brown. My heart flips.

  ‘Excuse me?’ I reply, wondering if he’s even talking to me.

  ‘I was just wondering why you’re not used to wearing heels.’

  ‘You’re British,’ I say, cocking my head to one side.

  ‘So are you,’ he replies with an easy smile.

  Kitty’s outstretched palm appears beside me. ‘I’m Kitty,’ she says with a smile.

  ‘Joseph.’ He shakes her hand and then takes mine.

  ‘Meg.’ I suddenly feel all flustered.

  ‘What are you doing in LA?’ he asks, not releasing my hand or taking his gorgeous brown eyes from mine.

  ‘Catching up with friends,’ I reply, nodding at Kitty and gently extricating myself.

  ‘Did you enjoy the movie?’

  ‘It was okay,’ I reply.

  ‘Just okay?’ he says with amusement.

  ‘I’m not really big into martial-arts movies.’

  ‘Oh!’ Kitty clamps her hand over her mouth. ‘You were in it, weren’t you? I recognise you!’

  I stare at him with horror as he nods.

  ‘Only a small part,’ he reveals with a smile.

  I don’t remember him at all.

  ‘It was when you went to the bathroom,’ Kitty tells me, causing me to blush again. That’ll teach me to drink too much champagne in the limo.

  Joseph leans back in his chair. He’s wearing a black suit with a pristine white shirt, unbuttoned at the top. I catch a glimpse of his extremely fit chest and suddenly see myself in bed with him. I shake my head to rid myself of the image. It doesn’t work.

  ‘You had some mean moves on you,’ Kitty continues and he looks down modestly.

  ‘Do you do kung fu?’ I ask, starting to warm to the idea of the bed thing.

  He nods.

  ‘Do you have a black belt?’ I raise one eyebrow at him as my nerves oddly evaporate.

  He hooks his thumb through his belt loop. I look down to see a black leather belt.

  ‘Smart arse,’ I say with a grin. He grins back at me. God, he’s sexy.

  ‘Ooh, there’s the canapé guy,’ Kitty says, getting to her feet and hurrying over to him. Joseph doesn’t remove his eyes from mine.

  ‘Which part of England are you from?’ I ask him.

  ‘I used to live in London.’

  ‘Really? Where?’

  ‘All over. North, south, east, west, I wasn’t fussy. You?’ he asks.

  ‘I lived in Belsize Park for a while, and London Bridge before that.’

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘How long have you been in LA?’ I ask.

  ‘Not long.’

  ‘Is it going well?’ It surely must be with looks and a body like his.

  He shrugs. ‘Alright so far.’ He leans forward and stares straight into my eyes.

  ‘What?’ No one has looked at me intensely like this for quite some time. Well, not since Johnny the other day.

  ‘You never answered my question,’ he says.

  ‘Question?’

  ‘Why don’t you wear heels?’

  ‘Um . . .’ I tuck my feet back underneath my chair and give him a funny look.

  ‘They suit you,’ he adds.

  ‘Er, thanks,’ I reply. ‘Well, you never answered my question about being a black belt.’ I deflect him. I don’t want to reveal yet that I’m a mother and the last thing I want to do is rush around in high heels when I’m dealing with a toddler.

  He scratches the corner of his lip. Still, his eyes are on mine.

  ‘Yes, I
am. Your turn.’

  ‘Um . . . I run around a lot. I’m very busy.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Looking after my one-and-a-half-year-old,’ I admit.

  He reels backwards. ‘You have a baby?’ Here we go. Bye bye, beautiful man.

  ‘Yes. A son.’

  ‘Are you married?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’

  ‘No.’

  He leans forward again and casually knocks his forefinger on my knee.

  ‘So let’s hook up.’

  I nod. Only because I’m rendered speechless. He reaches into his jacket pocket for his mobile phone. A shiver goes through me. I want him to touch me again. ‘What’s your number?’ he asks. I tell him and he punches it straight in. My phone starts to vibrate in my purse and he ends his call. ‘Now you have mine,’ he adds.

  ‘Joseph!’ We both jolt away from each other and look in the direction of the voice. A blond-haired man in his late forties is standing on the other side of the tables. ‘Nicky’s been looking for you.’

  Joseph nods and the man checks his watch. He turns back to me.

  ‘Nicky’s my agent,’ he explains, standing up. ‘It’s been nice talking to you, Meg,’ he says with a small smile. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Cool,’ I reply, but he’s already started making his way between the tables. I look around for Kitty. Right on cue, she bounds over to me.

  ‘Got his number!’ she says triumphantly, referring to the canapé guy.

  I take my phone out of my bag and waggle it in front of her. ‘Me too.’

  ‘Nice work,’ she says, impressed. ‘About time you got back on the horse.’

  Johnny and Christian’s faces flicker through my mind, one after the other, before settling on Johnny’s. Then I see Dana.

  ‘You’re right.’ I turn to Kitty. ‘I know you’re right.’

  Chapter 34

  ‘Has he called you yet?’ Kitty asks me the next day.

  ‘It’s only midday,’ I reply. ‘How’s your head?’

  ‘My head’s fine after my nice sleep-in.’

  ‘Cow.’

  She laughs. ‘How’s yours?’

  ‘Not so fine,’ I admit. ‘But damn, it was worth it.’

  ‘It was a fun night,’ she agrees. ‘We should do it more often.’