by Cat Schield
“Not exactly. She’s pretty adamant, and she’s making enough money from touring and her songwriting royalties not to worry about a paycheck.”
“But to give it away?” As a businessman, the idea pained him.
“I’ll see how she feels once the whole album is done. In the meantime...” Nate leaned forward and pushed the button that would let him be heard in the recording booth. “Trent is here and he’s agreed to record ‘She’s the One’ with you.”
Trent groaned as his sister’s face lit up with a broad smile. “After I do this, we have some business to discuss,” he said to Nate.
“Is something going on with the club?”
“Club T’s is doing great. This matter is as much personal as it is business.”
Nate gave him a curious look. “Does it have something to do with your sister-in-law living with you?”
Trent wasn’t surprised that Nate knew about Savannah. Melody had likely mentioned that she was spending time with Dylan. “It has to do with my nephew’s ownership of West Coast Records.”
The two men had been friends as well as business partners for several years. Nate knew all about the family business and the difficult Siggy Caldwell.
“The shares he inherited from Rafe?”
“The company isn’t doing well, and Savannah needs a large influx of cash to pay off the debt my brother stuck her with.”
Nate gave a solemn nod. “Sounds like the lady needs our help. Why don’t you get in there and do a little singing, and then we’ll talk.”
“Is Dylan okay in here with you?”
Nate took the boy and set him on his lap. “I’ve been dealing with temperamental artists for the last ten years. I think I can handle a one-year-old.”
Grinning, Trent headed into the recording booth. The guitarist had left his instrument behind, and Trent picked it up. “Think he’d mind if I borrow this?”
“Jay’s pretty cool about that sort of thing,” Melody said, a half smile on her face as she watched Trent settle onto the stool and test the strings. “Are you really going to do this?”
Trent might not have been interested in a music career, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have had one if he’d wanted it. Back in high school, he and a few of his buddies had formed a band and even played a few gigs. It had enhanced his bad boy mystique and got him as much action as the school’s jocks. Plus, he hadn’t been all banged up from playing sports.
“Nate has promised me it will never make the album,” Trent said, “so I don’t see what harm there is.”
“We’ll see.” Melody gave him a sly smile. “Do you remember how it goes?”
“I think I can manage.” And he started to play.
Nine
Savannah hummed as she descended in the hotel elevator, eager to head to LAX for the flight back to Las Vegas. She’d spent an eventful three days in LA and couldn’t wait to get home to Dylan.
The dinner the night before at Cuts with Fred Hammer had given her a sense of what Trent was trying to provoke his father to do. It was obvious that the man knew the music business and would be a fantastic CEO for West Coast Records. The fact that he’d stolen several of the label’s best artists over the last five years was a testament to his business acumen. It wasn’t hard to imagine just how much it would upset Siggy to have this guy in charge of the company.
Morning sunlight poured through the lobby windows as Savannah crossed the marble floor in the direction of the exit. She was so preoccupied with thoughts of her son, she was completely caught off guard by the woman who stepped into her path.
“Savannah Caldwell.”
“Yes?” She didn’t recognize the brunette in snug jeans and a white T-shirt and at first thought she might have been an assistant to one of the agents she’d spoken with the day before.
The woman held out an envelope. “This is for you.”
Reflexively, Savannah took it. “What is this?”
“You’ve been served.” Without another word, the woman headed for the hotel’s front entrance with the confidence of someone who had done this a thousand times before.
With her mind blank with astonishment, Savannah opened the envelope and pulled out a legal document. It didn’t take her long to get the gist: contesting Rafe’s bequeathing the company stock to Dylan, citing the fact that he wasn’t Rafe’s biological son. Every bit of optimism Savannah had gained over the last seventy-two hours vanished. Instead of leaving the hotel, she made her way to the nearest chair and dropped into it.
How was she going to explain to Trent what his father was up to? Savannah had stopped worrying about the stock and the money since she’d decided to return to acting. She would figure out a way to restructure the debt and be able to pay it off eventually. But if Trent discovered Dylan wasn’t Rafe’s child, he would despise her for lying to him. She needed to talk to Siggy. At least one good thing had come of this—she didn’t need to fear losing her son to her father-in-law.
Savannah got in her car and headed to Siggy’s house. Half of her thought she’d be denied entrance, but Siggy obviously expected her, because she was ushered right in. He was sitting behind his large desk in his office and didn’t get to his feet as she entered the room.
“You’re suing me?”
“I’ll not have you pass off your bastard as my grandson.”
Savannah resisted the urge to tell the old man that Dylan was still his grandson. “Dylan is Rafe’s son.”
“Not his biological son.”
Savannah went cold. She stared Siggy down, utilizing every bit of Courtney Day she possessed to keep her panic from showing. Did he know something? Or was he guessing? She had no way of knowing without tipping her hand.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about. You tricked my son into marrying you and into making that boy his heir.”
“That’s not at all what happened.” Even as she said the words, Savannah knew she was wasting her breath. “And you have no way of proving that it did.”
“But I can prove that Dylan isn’t Rafe’s biological son. The last time he was here, I took a sample of his DNA and had it tested.”
What after all this time could have prompted Siggy to do something like that? Was it because she and Trent had joined forces and were threatening his business? Her relationship with Trent while she lived in New York had never been a secret, but Siggy rarely paid attention to his son’s activities. Would he have been aware that they were romantically linked? Or because he’d never viewed Savannah as being good enough to be Rafe’s wife, had Siggy merely been grasping at straws?
“It doesn’t matter what you can or can’t prove. Rafe wanted a son and he got one.”
As she spoke, Savannah began to calm down. Siggy would have a hard time contesting the will. Rafe never specified that he was leaving the stock to his biological son, and Rafe’s name was on Dylan’s birth certificate as his father.
“But I can drag this issue through the courts for a very long time. And when the DNA tests come back, you’ll get to explain to Trent why you’ve been lying to him all this time.” Siggy looked pleased with himself, leaving Savannah to wonder what he knew or what he thought he knew. “Meanwhile, I’ll be taking back control of my company.”
Now Savannah understood what Siggy was driving at. She’d helped Trent provoke his father and this was the result. And she knew Siggy was right about Trent. He’d be furious that she’d lied about Rafe being Dylan’s father all this time. The only thing Savannah could do to salvage the situation was to figure out how to negotiate so Dylan’s paternity never became public knowledge.
“You want your company back? I want to be out from under the debt your son created.”
Siggy’s eyes narrowed. “What are you offering?”
“I’ll sign the stock back over to you if you’ll give me the million I owe. It’s Rafe’s debt, not mine, and you and I both know the stock is worth way more than that.” At
least until the company went under.
“If we go to court, I’ll get my stock and I won’t have to pay you a cent.”
“Are you sure? Because if you take me to court, I’ll make sure everyone knows how badly the company is doing. Including the royalties not being paid to your artists and how close you are to bankruptcy. In the meantime, I’ve hired Fred Hammer to take over as CEO, and his first act will be to fire Gerry and have him arrested for embezzlement. Think about it.”
Leaving behind an uncharacteristically speechless Siggy, Savannah made her way out of the house. Head held high, but knees wobbling with each step, she made it to the driver’s seat of her car before deflating with an enormous exhale. Determined not to break down while in sight of the house, she started the car and headed down the street. Savannah turned into the first parking lot she reached, found a vacant spot and shut off the engine.
Her forehead was halfway to the steering wheel when her phone rang, startling her. Convinced Siggy was calling to level more threats at her, Savannah was tempted not to answer. But she was a mother before anything and knew she at least had to check to see who was trying to get hold of her.
To her surprise, it was Corrine Scott, the agent she’d signed with late the previous afternoon. Corrine’s offer of representation was the second one she’d received, and after spending half an hour with her, Savannah knew Corrine understood her priorities as a single mom as well as her preferences for roles.
“Hi, Corrine.” With the way her day was going, Savannah braced herself for bad news. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“I didn’t expect to be calling you so soon either, but when we spoke yesterday you said you were interested in looking at some movie projects. I had dinner with a producer last night and pitched you to him. He just sent over a script for a part that sounds perfect for you.”
“Wow,” Savannah said with a startled laugh. “You work fast.” Her head was spinning from the rapid seesawing of her fortune over the last hour.
“Sometimes the perfect match between client and project takes a while—other times the stars align. I know you’re flying back to Vegas, but do you have time to swing by and pick up the script to start reading?”
Savannah hadn’t built in enough time for all the detours she’d encountered this morning. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
“I’ll be by in half an hour. Would you possibly have a little time to talk about something of a personal nature? I could use an impartial point of view.”
If Corrine was surprised that her new client was reaching out for some personal help, she didn’t show it. “Sure. I’m happy to help any way I can.”
Next, Savannah called the airline and changed her flight to later in the day, and then contacted Melody to give her the new schedule. As much as Savannah wanted to hug her baby boy, she had a legal issue and needed professional help.
Her phone rang again as she drove to Corrine’s office. This time it was Trent.
“Melody said you were delayed in LA because of a project.”
“I’m heading to my agent’s office right now.”
“Sounds like things are moving for you already.”
“I’m surprised that they are. I never imagined she’d be able to find me something so fast. Of course, it’s only an audition.” Nevertheless, Savannah was consumed by optimism.
“What time is your flight? I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I have a surprise for you that won’t keep.”
“That sounds like trouble.”
Savannah couldn’t imagine what he could be up to and caught herself smiling as she ended the call. However, her delight didn’t last long once her gaze fell upon the envelope containing the summons that she’d tossed onto the dashboard.
She had a tricky legal problem to deal with and if Trent learned the truth, he’d never forgive her for keeping such a huge secret from him. Which brought her thoughts back to the scene at Siggy’s house. Had she really told him she’d hired Fred? And threatened to turn Gerry over to the police?
Trent was going to be unhappy with her for stomping all over his clever plan, whatever it was. He’d been cagey when she’d quizzed him about his plot to save the label. Well, if he’d wanted her to stay on script, he should have given her more information.
It was too late to worry about that now. She had a lawsuit to fight and her future to secure. On the way back to Las Vegas she would figure out what sort of explanation she should give to Trent.
* * *
Airline passengers streamed past Trent as he scanned the arrivals display to find out which carousel would contain the baggage from Savannah’s flight. His timing was perfect. Her plane had touched down five minutes before. He positioned Dylan’s stroller where it wouldn’t be missed when Savannah came to claim their luggage.
Savannah had only been gone three days, but it felt like a lot longer. They’d spoken frequently, their exchanges revolving around Dylan and her agent while Trent’s mind formed the words that would convey how much he missed her. He hadn’t said any of them. His reaction to her absence disturbed him. When she’d married his brother, he’d resolved to be done with her. And for the last sixteen months, he’d believed that was the case. What a shock to discover he had been lying to himself the whole time.
The way his heart leaped when he spotted her demonstrated that he was in deeper than ever. All too aware his emotions were on display, he crouched beside the stroller and focused on unbuckling his nephew.
“Dylan, there’s your mommy. Let’s get you out of here so you can give her a big hug.”
“Oh, I’ve missed you,” Savannah cried, snatching Dylan into her arms and plastering noisy kisses on his cheeks. “Goodness, you’ve grown.”
“You’ve only been gone three days,” Trent pointed out. His arms ached to enfold her in a passionate embrace, but he shoved his hands into his pockets and welcomed her with a smile instead. “I’m sure it’s impossible for him to have gotten measurably bigger in such a short period of time.”
“I know.” Savannah began walking in the direction of the baggage carousels. “It’s just my guilt tricking me because I left him.”
“He did just fine.” Trent meant the words to be reassuring, but when Savannah winced, he realized he was in a no-win situation. “Even though he missed you. But Melody and I did our best to keep him entertained.”
“There’s no one I’d rather he spend time with than you two.”
Trent decided to switch to a less emotionally charged topic. “So your trip to LA was successful. Not only did you get an agent, but also an audition for a movie role. That’s great.”
“It was an eventful trip. I never expected things to go so well.”
“Tell me about the movie.”
“It’s a bigger part than I expected it to be. I skimmed through the script on the flight here. It’s a romantic comedy. If I get it, I’ll be the lead’s best friend.”
“Where is it shooting?”
The carousel began to move and the first bags appeared moments later.
“It sounds like they’ll be shooting in LA.” Savannah split her attention between her son and the luggage circling past them and missed Trent’s frown. “I’m going back next Wednesday for the audition.”
“And if you get it? Does that mean you’re going back to LA?” What he wanted to know was if she was moving back permanently. Before this trip, he’d gotten the impression she wanted to make Las Vegas her home base.
“While I’m filming.” She pointed to a red Tumi suitcase. “That one’s mine.”
Trent lifted it off the carousel while Savannah put Dylan back in his stroller. The three of them left the terminal and headed for short-term parking.
“Feels like the heat broke,” Savannah commented as Trent loaded her suitcase and Dylan’s stroller into the trunk of his car.
For the flight, she’d donned a sleeveless cream fit-a
nd-flare dress with chunky gold jewelry and black-and-cream-striped pumps. The look was elegant and professional, but as she settled into the passenger seat she kicked off her high heels, unfastened her sleek updo and peeled off her jewelry. With her wavy blond hair cascading over her shoulders in luxurious disarray and her clear blue eyes sparkling as she peered at her son in the backseat, she was once again the sensual, tantalizing woman who’d haunted his dreams these last few days.
“So, I promised you a surprise,” Trent said, cursing the husky rasp in his voice. He started the car’s engine and turned on the stereo. The CD was ready to go—all he had to do was hit Play. “I took Dylan to the studio while Melody was recording.”
Savannah’s smile turned eager. “Am I finally going to hear a bit of her album?”
“It’s Melody’s music,” he said as he backed the car out of the parking spot and headed for the exit. “But I don’t think this is going to be part of her new album.”
“I’ve been dying of curiosity for the past six hours. Are you going to play me the song or what?”
“Here goes.”
He keyed the CD and waited for her reaction. Her eyes rounded with delight and she clapped her hands over her mouth. Trent found himself unable to stop grinning as the song played.
“Is that Dylan singing?”
Singing was not quite what the infant was doing, but there was no question that he was babbling all the correct notes as Melody accompanied him on the piano and sang the verses. It was one of the tunes she’d written when she was a kid, and obviously it still appealed to the under-ten-year-old set.
“Apparently they’ve been working on this duet since she arrived.”
“It’s fantastic. What a wonderful surprise. Thank you.”
The song ended and Trent was about to hit the rewind button to play it again when a new song began. Nate had burned the CD for Trent. Apparently he’d decided to add a second track.
Savannah cocked her head and listened to the first strains of the new song. “I know this, don’t I?”
