by S. L. Scott
And I believe him. I nod, my tears soaking spots on his shirt.
His hand cradles my head and there is no more denying what we have together, what we are together.
He says, “Tommy will handle Ashley.”
I sniffle, hating that I’ve put him in this position. “I hate playing the jealous wife role, but she makes me.”
Taking a step back, he brings me with him and we walk to the bed. “You have nothing to be jealous over.” His hand caresses my cheek, his thumb gliding back and forth softly. “If you only knew how I saw you… how I feel about you, you’d never have a doubt.” His lips brush against mine and then with a light pressure he says, “I’m in love with you—madly, deeply, soul-achingly in love with only you.” His thumbs wipe away my tears and he kisses me with all the intention in the world to show me his love.
Leaning back, he comes with me, my back to the bed, his chest to mine.
In the silence, I start thinking about how I might be holding him back now, much less if I am pregnant. Despite what he says, is he really ready to settle down that much? Are we?
I don’t want him to ever blame me for keeping him from achieving his dreams or worse, resenting me in the future. I cradle my arm around my stomach, mad that I’ve let my head… and my heart get wrapped up in the possibility of a little baby.
Shifting in his arms, I lean my cheek against his chest and concentrate on the calm of his heartbeat and fall asleep.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rochelle put her sunglasses on and look down to avoid the flashes. I flip my sunglasses over my eyes and lower my gaze to the floor of LAX. Tracy and Adam with a security guard lead us to the waiting SUV and we quickly climb in. “I’ll call you later,” she yells louder than the paparazzi, then shuts the door.
The SUV drives off quickly and I take what feels like my first breath in minutes. Once we hit the highway, Rochelle tells the driver to stop at a CVS before we get to my house. I stare at her. “I’m tired and want to get some sleep. It can wait an hour or two.”
“No, it can’t. You promised me you would do this as soon as we got back.”
“I thought you meant once we got home, not literally right after we land.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t make you take one at the airport. If you’re pregnant, you need to see your doctor and care for that baby in there. So we’re stopping and picking up the pregnancy test or three. I did four each time, but whatever, I’m weird like that. You only need one. They’re like 99.9% accurate.”
“Geez, like the pill I’ve been taking.”
“You stopped that yesterday. You didn’t take one today, right?”
“Nosy much.”
“Just caring…”
I let my guard down and look over at her. “I know you are. I’m sorry I’m so grumpy. I’m nervous and stressed over this.”
“That’s why you should take it now.”
As soon as we walk into my house, we leave our luggage by the door and I take the package and head upstairs to my bedroom. She comes with me, but waits while I go into the bathroom.
Gulping heavily, I rip the foil package and pull the stick out. After reading the directions, I follow them to a T, then set the stick on the edge of the bathtub. I open the door and bemoan, “The deed is done. My whole world is balanced on the tip of a pregnancy stick.”
“Either way, it’s going to be okay. I promise you. Dalton will be thrilled if you are and supportive if you’re not. I’m also here for you no matter what.”
We both sit on the counter, leaning against the mirror and staring at the stick across from us on the tub. “How long has it been?” I ask.
“Two minutes. That one said wait three.”
“Should I look now?”
“Let’s wait for the three minutes.” I don’t think either of us breathes over the next sixty seconds. She says, “It’s time.”
Slipping off the counter, she waits as I walk forward. Standing over it, peering down, I ask, “Two pink lines. What do two pink lines mean?”
“Sometimes the smallest things can have the biggest impact.” ~ Johnny Outlaw
Rochelle’s sniffle draws my attention. Her eyes are glassy, tears filling them and my own tears fall from the emotional overload. “I’m pregnant,” I say, though clearly she already knows.
Her arms open as she walks to me. “You’re pregnant,” she repeats, hugging me tight. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” I reply, my mind a bit numb. The embrace of my true friend calms my mind. “How am I going to tell Dalton?”
As we part, she says, “Call him. He’ll be so excited, Holli.”
My voice wavers as more tears prick my eyes. Grabbing a tissue from the counter, I dab my eyes. “He has a show tonight. He’ll want to fly home and he can’t.” When I start to get the feeling of this life-altering change under control, I smile. I can’t wait to tell him, my excitement growing as I picture his sweetest smile when he finds out. “He wants this baby, Rochelle.”
She dabs the corner of her own eyes. “Now I’m a mess. He’s gonna be so happy, but I think you’re right. He’s impulsive and needs to do the show tonight, so you can’t tell him beforehand.”
My eyes flash up, a plan coming together. “I’m gonna surprise him. I can do something special to tell him the news.”
“Ooooh, I like this idea.”
“I see him in two weeks. If I can hold off and not tell him, and that’s a big if, then I’ll get to see his reaction. Selfishly, I want that.”
“Understandable. You can celebrate together. What do you have in mind?”
I smile. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to give it some thought.” I rub my stomach. “I just can’t believe I’m pregnant. I wasn’t even sure if I was ready before and now I feel this baby is right on time.”
“It’s wonderful.” She hugs me again. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” We walk back into the bedroom and out the door. “Do you want to stay for tea?”
“I need to get back for the boys and catch up on some work.”
When the car service arrives, I walk her to the door and give her another hug. “Thank you for going on the adventure and for being here for me.”
“You’re welcome. Before I go,” she says, “I want you to know that I think you and Johnny will be amazing parents.”
“Thank you. That really means a lot to me.”
She walks down the steps dragging her suitcase to the waiting car. “Call ya soon.”
I shut the door and lean against it. Taking in a long deep breath, I hold it and then release slowly. “I’m pregnant.”A huge smile covers my face as my hand covers my stomach. “I’m pregnant!” I squeal in excitement.
But the jumping makes my stomach curl and I run to the restroom.
“So the agency thinks we should do a video.”
I stare at the phone as if it’s alien technology and the language Tracy is speaking is foreign to me. “What?”
“They loved the photos from the shoot and want to do a video that backs the campaign. Department stores will play it on monitors in the lingerie section, commercials will be made, film style videos produced. I think this is brilliant. It changes the brand completely. This can take it from gag gifts and funny cards to a brand that reaches a bigger mainstream audience, which could lead to even more opportunities.”
“Slow down. You’re making my head spin. What would filming a video entail?” Rubbing my stomach, I think of Dalton, knowing he won’t be happy with a video of me and Sebastian.
“Big city backdrop. We were thinking the same apartment we stayed in with that amazing view. Shooting in the morning, late day, and then night. The couple never leaves the apartment. They lounge in their Limelight skivvies all day. The agency suggested domestic scenes—cooking breakfast, watching movies, lounging on the couch—mixed with sexy parts.”
“Sexy parts?”
“We’ll keep them tasteful. I know you don’t want to hear it, but you and Sebasti
an have chemistry in front of the lens. I agree with the ad agency. You two will spark on video.”
“I don’t want to spark with Sebastian.”
“Holli, this is the next level we’ve been working to reach. We have something solid to work with that people are flipping out over in the best way possible. Let’s grow this company in the direction we’ve worked so hard to grow it in.”
“So you’re wanting me to say yes?”
“I’m advising you to say yes. Ultimately, the final decision is yours.”
Reminded of growing, I rub my stomach again. “If we do this, we have to do it soon.”
“How’s next week?”
Gracie has done high-end fashion videos for designers, and after the photos she produced, she was hired to film our video. Tracy knew I needed to trust whoever was going to be working on this set as much as possible to loosen up. What she didn’t know was that I couldn’t do shots this time to get to that state.
Sebastian is in town attending LA Fashion Week, so the four of us meet for lunch to discuss the job. Gracie lays her plans out on the table and runs her fingers over the sketch of the bedroom with that spectacular view. “We’ll start with the sunrise. You’ll be in bed, eyes opening as the sun starts to peek in. You said it’s an Eastern view from the bedroom?”
Tracy answers, “Yes, barely since it’s on the corner, but there will be enough light to get the message across. The living room gets the sunset.”
Starting in about the team she’s bringing in for the filming, she turns to Tracy to finalize wardrobe so she knows what she’s working with and how far she can go. Sebastian leans closer and whispers, “How have you been?”
“Good.”
“Look Holliday, I’m sorry. I really am. I crossed a line. My head was full of… I don’t know. I just feel, felt a connection with you. But I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
I could rake him over the coals for trying to kiss me or pushing every one of Dalton’s buttons to anger him, but I have to work with him, so I’ll keep things as light as possible until the job is done. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“From before sunrise to past sunset,” he notes. “It’s gonna be a long day.”
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to rest up for it. I’m not used to working in this way. I kind of work like a nomad, when and where I want.” I laugh. “And a lot late at night.”
“All the travel fucks with my sleep habits. I take a lot of sleeping pills.”
Gracie says, “Your body is insanely perfect, Holli. Sebastian, I saw you walked the runway yesterday shirtless and looked phenomenal. Whatever you guys did to prepare for our last shoot, do it again. We want the photos to be an extension of that photoshoot.”
The baby is always on my mind, but especially since I’m going to have my stomach exposed. My hand covers my stomach as it drops, knowing I can’t do Danny’s crazy diet this time. It wouldn’t be healthy for the baby. I’m gonna have to kick in some extra yoga this time.
I inwardly roll my eyes at myself over my ridiculousness. I haven’t even confirmed the pregnancy from the doctor yet. But from what I read online, those pee sticks are pretty damn accurate, so I’ve treated my body like I’m pregnant already.
While we’re waiting on the check, Tracy gets a call and excuses herself from the table. I pick up the tab and pay when it arrives, then ask, “So this coming Tuesday or Wednesday in New York?”
“I’ll have everything confirmed by tonight,” Gracie says. “I’ll let Tracy know for sure before you book your tickets. Sebastian, you do or don’t also have availability on Wednesday?”
“Tuesday is my only free day. Wednesday I have to fly to Barcelona.”
“That settles it then,” she adds. “We will make this happen on Tuesday.”
Leaning my arms on the table, I smile. “It’s more exciting flying by the seat of our pants anyway.”
“Which you do way too much,” Tracy says rejoining us. She grabs her purse and touches my shoulder. “I can’t give you a ride home, but I’ll have the valet get you a cab. Adam has a client dinner in Malibu in two hours. I’ll never make it if I drive you home. Is that okay?”
“I actually have a doctor’s appointment, but I can get a cab or Uber.”
Gracie asks with concern, “Is everything all right?”
“Yes. No worries. It’s just a checkup. It’s that time of year.” I look away, realizing I’ve said more than she needs to know.
“I can give you a ride.” The three of us look at Sebastian as he sits up. “I don’t have to be anywhere until seven, so I have a few hours to kill.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I can just cab it over.”
“Really, it’s no trouble.”
“Actually I have Uber on speed dial. I’ll call them.”
Gracie is watching us like a tennis match. She steps into the conversation and says, “It’s just a ride, Holli. What’s the big deal?”
I want to give her an evil glare. Whose side is she on anyways? Apparently no one’s since she’s been Switzerland since the incident in New York. The awkwardness grows as everyone sits in silence. I glance to Tracy who’s biting her lip nervously as if she’s the one put on the spot. Ugh! Dalton is gonna kill me, but I’m out of excuses and just feel rude if I don’t accept at this point. It’s just a ride there. No big deal in the scheme of things. “Okay, thank you.”
We leave the table and this time, I follow Sebastian, not wanting his eyes burning up my backside. He’s a perfect gentleman while we wait for the car. Thank goodness. I burst out laughing when his car is pulled around. “The car is very subtle,” I say, laughing at him for being so pretentious. “No one will ever guess a celebrity isn’t driving the neon yellow Maserati.”
“I’m a model, Holli. I don’t mind being seen.” He floors the accelerator and we speed down the highway.
“I do mind dying. Slow down a bit. Okay?”
He laughs. “Sure.”
I’m seeing a new side to him, one I can appreciate. Once ‘the chase’ is taken out of our relationship, I’m discovering he can be quite funny and he has a great laugh—lighthearted like only someone who loves life can manage.
We talk about the shoot and wardrobe or lack thereof. He keeps everything professional with no innuendoes at all, which is appreciated. As we get closer to the doctor’s office, I start to get nervous, suddenly attached to the thought of having this baby more than I should before it’s conception is confirmed. Sadness creeps into my thoughts if I’m not pregnant, but I take a deep breath and pray that I am while holding my stomach.
Pulling up to the front of the building, he says, “Here we are.” I watch as his eyes go to the gold lettering on the building—OBGYN. “Would you like me to drive you home after?”
“No. Thank you. I can call a car service. They’re usually very fast in Beverly Hills.” He rolls the window down once I get out. Leaning in once the door is closed again, I say, “Thank you again. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. So I’ll see you next Tuesday?”
My mind goes to ridiculous places when he says that. So I repeat, “Yes. See you next Tuesday.”
One of his eyebrows arches, surprised I followed through with the crude joke. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you’d catch that.”
While we laugh, I pretend to pop my collar. “See? I’m not always so lame.”
His smile softens and he leans over the console and peers up. “I don’t think you’re lame at all, Holli. But I do think you’re quite fascinating.”
In the moment, it’s easy to see the appeal. I stand up straight and back away on the sidewalk. “I should go. I hate being late.”
“Hey Holli?”
I stop and look back. He’s leaning closer to the open window so I can hear. His eyes go down and he says, “I’m sorry for coming on so strong and for… all that’s happened.”
I smile. “Thanks, Sebastian.”
“See ya around.”
“See you around.”
I’m a few minutes late for the appointment, but they’re used to it with LA traffic. I only have to wait ten minutes before I’m taken back and given a cup to pee in. Then, I’m left alone with my anxiety to wait in an exam room for the results. With my phone in hand, I call Dalton to help sway the nerves to settle down. The static is bad when he answers, “Hey, we’re going through a tunnel right now.”
“That’s okay. I can hear you. Where are you going?”
“To dinner. We’re meeting with a producer to talk about the new album. I thought we were working with the last guy but he can’t start ours for five months because of other projects.”
“Maybe this is the guy you were meant to work with all along. You know how that goes.”
“Yeah, we’ll see. How are you?”
“I’m good. I just had lunch with Gracie, Sebastian, and Tracy.” I pause, giving him a second to let the Sebastian stuff pass. “We’re moving forward with a video. Isn’t that great? Gracie has so many cool ideas—”
The static is gone and the connection is crystal clear when he asks, “A video for what?”
“The ad agency liked the photos so much they developed a bigger campaign around them, which includes doing a video. Commercials will be made and a longer director’s cut will be put out.” Going in for the hard sell, I add, “It will play where the line is sold, in department stores and such.”
His voice is brusque when he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t 100% on board.”
“Now you are?” He sounds surprised.
“After I heard the ideas, yes. Are you mad?”
“Why would I be mad, Holliday?” He’s resorted to answering my questions with questions.
He’s definitely mad.
I hear the clipboard rattle just outside the door. “Dalton, I’ll call you later. I have to go.” I hate that I have to hang up, but I don’t want to ruin this surprise after the bomb I just laid on him. He calls right back, but I don’t answer, and now I feel terrible.
