Baby and the Beast

by Taylor Holloway

  “I still think it was him,” Jimmy said, and then he withered under my glare. “Look,” he said. “I’m just agreeing with the police here. I’m not going all Nancy Drew. They think it was him.”

  “No,” Luc said, jumping in. “They thought it was him. Now they don’t know who was to blame. That’s why we’re in this whole situation. If it had been Maurice, and we could have proven it, this meeting today never would have taken place.”

  I hated this conversation. All I wanted to do was get back to Isabelle. I’d been eagerly looking forward to our date on Friday. I had so many things I wanted to talk to Isabelle about. Instead, I was trapped here. With this stupid situation. I never thought I’d be ruined again, especially not over something so stupid. Five million? It was a lot. But not so much that I couldn’t eat it if I had to.

  “What if I just agree to personally reimburse the production for the full five million that was stolen. Would that get them off our backs?”

  Jimmy and Luc paused. Jimmy nodded, and a moment later, Luc did too.

  “It might,” Luc said carefully. “But we should probably still prepare for the optics of this situation to look bad for us.”

  “If you’re trying to tell me that I shouldn’t be with Isabelle or that I should fire her from the production to avoid bad optics, the answer isn’t just ‘no.’ It’s ‘fuck you, mind your own business’.”

  I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t push Isabelle away when I was finally getting her back because somebody thought it looked bad. I didn’t give a shit how things looked. That ought to be obvious. I’d already been through the hell of bad publicity once before. I’d seen how bad it could be. And even then, I wouldn’t trade Isabelle to avoid it.

  “This could get bad,” Luc said. “I like Isabelle. I want you two to be happy together. But this could blow up in your face.”

  “It won’t,” I told Luc. “We’re going to figure out that Ashton Radley did this. The private investigator will find something in the next couple of days. In the meantime, we’ll provide the underwriters with all the proof they want that we’ve done what we’ve said in terms of this investigation. I’ll also personally reimburse the production for the stolen money to reassure them. That ought to be enough. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with Isabelle tonight.”

  43

  Isabelle

  The Reconciliation

  “This is a beautiful restaurant,” I told Connor. We’d taken the helicopter out to Catalina Island from Long Beach. From horizon to horizon, all I saw ahead of me out the window was the wide, blue Pacific Ocean. The food had been incredible, too. And there’d been no kale, lobster, or arguments between us. It felt like the world was finally letting us have a little bit of a rest. It felt good just to be at his side.

  “I thought a little escape from reality was in order,” Connor replied. He refilled my water glass for me. “It’s been a crazy couple of weeks.”

  I couldn’t help but agree. “I think you mean months, Connor.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. I do mean months.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. “But we can do this, can’t we?”

  I swallowed. “Which part?”

  “This part,” he said, interlocking his fingers in mine. “I want to be with you. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I know this whole situation started out as one thing and became something totally different. But I don’t care about that. I care about you. Isabelle, I love you.”

  My heartbeat leapt.

  “I think I love you, too,” I stuttered. “Connor, this is scary. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I want us to be together, if we can. I want… I want to try.”

  Connor smiled at me and the look in his blue eyes said that he wanted the exact same things. “We can do this,” he promised me. “We just have to be honest with each other. We have to trust each other. And we have to talk to each other.” He frowned. “I missed you over Christmas. I never got a chance to give you your present.”

  I blinked. “You got me a present?”

  He nodded and produced a little Tiffany blue box from his pocket. “Do you want to open it?”

  The box was the wrong shape for an engagement ring, which was probably the only reason I didn’t faint. But I stared at him, and then at it, and then back at him in disbelief.

  “That’s for me?” I squeaked.

  He nodded. Suddenly, he looked nervous. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  I pulled the little box closer to me. It made a little jingling noise as I did. My hands shook a little bit as I fumbled with it. Inside the cigar-shaped blue box there was a velvet jewelry box. And inside the velvet box? A diamond bracelet made to look like two interlocking vines. The individual gems shimmered in the fading light of the sunset.

  “Connor, this is too much,” I whispered. This was a very expensive gift.

  “Do you want to try it on?” he asked, helping me to put it on. It looked like something that belonged on the wrist of someone rich and famous. I’d never worn anything half so fine. The nicest piece of jewelry I owned were my pearl earrings that used to belong to my mom. This would look good with those earrings, I thought distantly. It’s exactly the sort of thing I’d pick for myself.

  I stared at my wrist in disbelief. “Connor, it’s too much,” I repeated. “You don’t have to give me gifts like this.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not the kind of girl who expects—”

  “Anything. You don’t expect anything,” Connor interrupted. “That’s what’s so great about you. You’re not obsessed with money or fame. You’re obsessed with making sure your werewolf monsters are sufficiently horrifying. And that your practical effects scare the pants off audiences. You hang out in those silly, cute overalls that are still somehow sexy because they’re on you. You don’t prance around in designer stuff and expect it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t spoil you if I want to, does it? Do you like it?”

  My mouth was hanging open and I shut it with a conscious effort. “I love it.” My eyes felt weepy again, and for once it wasn’t the stupid pregnancy hormones. It was the fact that Connor was in love me and saw me for who I was. “Thank you.”

  We were going to be okay. My heart was full to bursting, but in the very best way.

  “Are you ready to get out of here?” Connor asked me, the sun had set now, and our food was long gone. “The flight home is really something at night,” he told me.

  I nodded. I wasn’t sure how it could possibly be as beautiful as the flight out here, but I was game to see. Helicopters were great. The first one had been a bit scary, but in a fun way. Now that I was more used to them, every other form of transportation just seemed lame. “Sure,” I told Connor. “Let’s go home.”

  Connor meant the LA house. He wanted me to come back. To live with him. To sleep with him in his bed and be his lover. The implication was clear. And I wanted it just as much as he did. Probably more.

  We were walking out of the restaurant, hand in hand, when an older man came up to us. He looked vaguely familiar and he looked at me curiously.

  “Connor? I didn’t know you were on Catalina,” he said. “What a surprise.”

  Connor froze. “Wallace. I didn’t know you were either.” I felt awkward. Who was this? What was going on? I held onto Connor’s hand, but I wondered if I should. Connor had never introduced me to anyone before. Only Luc and Jimmy. If this was his friend, maybe it was too soon…

  Connor’s discomfort only lasted for a moment. He turned to me. “Isabelle, this is my brother. Wallace Prince.”

  44

  Connor

  The Brother

  Wallace was staring between Isabelle and me like he was wondering if the acid had just kicked in. This was not a hallucination. I wished it was. But it was all too real.

  “Hi, Wallace,” Isabelle said, looking at him with a similar amount of disbelief. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Wallace shook Isabelle’s hand, noting the bracel
et around her wrist and raising an eyebrow at me. He was very perceptive. He always had been.

  At the moment, I’m sure he was perceiving quite a bit. One, I was out in the world doing things. That was unusual all on its own. I’d been a hermit for a decade. Two, I’d been holding out on him at Thanksgiving. I had a lady friend.

  “Isabelle,” Wallace said. “What a pretty name, and you’re lovely enough to deserve it. It’s great to meet the woman who’s had such a good influence on my brother lately.” Isabelle blushed. “Why don’t you two join me for a drink? I know you were just leaving, but I’m meeting Tommy here tonight and he’s running late.”

  “We should really be going,” I told Wallace. “The helicopter is waiting.”

  “Come on,” he cajoled. “Keep an old man company for fifteen minutes, won’t you?”

  Isabelle’s eyes were as wide as saucers. She knew, because everyone knew, who Wallace Prince was. He was famous for being rich, which meant that he was a special kind of rich. He was also famous for being the father to Peter, Thomas, Derek, and Holden Prince. The man had bred the next generation of Hollywood royalty. She stared at me in disbelief. I could see the panic on the edges of her composure. Or maybe that was my panic.

  “No, Wallace,” I told him. “We should go. But we’ll get together soon.”

  Wallace frowned at me. “One drink. Then I’ll get out of your way.”

  I sighed. I could read the subtext here. I knew my brother. If I didn’t give in to his one drink now, there was a very high likelihood that he’d show up at my house the following day. Probably at about eight in the morning, knowing him. He’d show up all casually and unannounced and I’d be forced to deal with him then.

  He wouldn’t let this go. My brother didn’t know how to let things go. It’s part of why he’d been so damn successful. The man was a dog with a bone. Once he realized that something was interesting to him, he would just push and push until he satisfied his curiosity. Now that he was interested in Isabelle, he would satisfy his curiosity about her either with or without my cooperation. Or even my involvement. I wouldn’t put it past my brother to come pester Isabelle at work. That would be unacceptable. My only viable option was to entertain his curiosity now.

  “One drink,” I agreed, and the warning in my voice was obvious. Wallace winked at me.

  We went back inside the restaurant and had a seat at the bar. The server that had helped us at dinner saw us and came over.

  “Back again?” she said cheerfully. “And you brought a friend. What can I get you?”

  Wallace smiled indulgently. “I’ll have an old fashioned.”

  That was my usual drink too. I’d had one at dinner. But I didn’t want to be like my brother, so I ordered a glass of white wine.

  “And another Shirley Temple for my pregnant friend here?” the waitress guessed, looking at Isabelle.

  Fuck. Of all the things she could have said…

  Isabelle and I exchanged a wordless look, and she swallowed. Wallace’s mouth was hanging open.

  Isabelle nodded at the waitress, looking green around the gills. The waitress wandered off and Wallace zeroed in like a heat seeking missile.

  “Pregnant? Did I hear that right?” His blue eyes were shocked.

  Isabelle nodded again, looking between me and my brother with a look of total panic on her pretty features. “Will you excuse me for a moment? I’ll be right back.”

  She took off in the direction of the ladies’ room at full tilt. She probably needed to throw up now. I sort of wanted to join her. I could only pray that she wasn’t about to crawl out the window and run. I turned back to Wallace reluctantly when he cleared his throat. His face indicated that he expected an explanation. I didn’t really have one.

  “This is not how I wanted you to find out,” I told him. “No one else in the family knows.”

  He stared at me in total disbelief. “It’s yours, right? Just to be totally, one hundred percent sure here. That lovely, very young woman over there, she’s pregnant with your baby.”

  “Of course, it’s mine,” I snapped. I kept my voice low because we were in public, but I was pissed. “What the fuck kind of a question is that, Wallace?”

  He made an innocent looking face. “I didn’t mean to upset you or imply anything. I’m just trying to catch up here,” he said. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend, let alone one that you were this serious about. How far along is she?”

  “Twelve weeks. It’s just at the point we can tell people.” Although I hadn’t been planning on telling anyone. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

  Wallace nodded though, seemingly mollified just a bit. “Okay,” he said, running a hand through his hair and clearly trying to organize his thoughts. “How old is she? She looks very young.”

  “Isabelle is twenty-two.”

  That resulted in a raised eyebrow and judgmental look. I shrugged, not willing to engage on this subject any more than necessary. It was only an age difference. Significant? Sure. But It wasn’t that bad. Wallace had been ten years younger than his now deceased wife. Age wasn’t that important.

  “How long have you two been together?”

  I frowned. This wasn’t going to sound fantastic. “We’ve been together for about four weeks.”

  Wallace blinked. “That doesn’t add up, Connor.”

  “It’s complicated.” So complicated.

  Wallace nodded. “Okay. Give me the simple version.”

  “There really isn’t a simple version,” I told him.

  “Then give me the abridged version. I don’t understand how she can be three months pregnant when you’ve only been together for one.”

  “The world is full of mysteries, Wallace. This is just going to stay one of them. Be like that princess from Frozen and let it go.”

  Wallace laughed. “Well, at least she’s resurrected your sense of humor.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, she has.” She had basically resurrected all of me.

  “You love her?”

  I nodded.

  Of all the things I’d said so far, this one seemed to be the most surprising to Wallace. Isabelle came back then, sitting next to me bravely and wearing an expression that was neutral and calm. I was proud of her. Wallace was intimidating and very dramatic. But I knew she was up to the challenge. He zeroed in on her with the same focus and intensity that he’d been grilling me with earlier. She stared back at him calmly. I took her hand.

  “I’m sure you have questions for me,” she said. She took a sip of the Shirley Temple that had just been delivered. “Go ahead.”

  He smiled at her eagerly.

  “So, tell me, Isabelle, what do you do for a living?”

  45

  Isabelle

  The Return

  Wallace Prince questioned me for what felt like hours but was really only about fifteen minutes. Tommy Prince, the world’s biggest A-list actor, arrived around five minutes in. My left foot shook the entire time, but somehow, I managed to keep my composure. And my sanity.

  I tried not to show any fear. I hated to be vulnerable in general, and I especially hated when other people knew it. So, I hid my fear. I tried to project confidence, rationality, and good humor instead. I don’t know if I managed to come off as anything but intimidated, but I gave it my best shot. The last thing I wanted was for my first impression with Connor’s family to be one of meek, mewling terror.

  “Welcome to the family,” Wallace said to me at the end. Tommy grinned at me.

  “Thank you,” I stuttered, smiling as best I could. I felt like I was going to have a stroke, but I was smiling.

  The fact that Tommy Prince had shown up during my interrogation only made the whole situation that much more surreal. He looked confused and surprised by everything he was hearing, but I ignored it. Connor sent his nephew a ‘don’t even start’ look and he stayed quiet, but I could only imagine that I would be the topic of conversation between Wallace and his son after we left.

  It wa
sn’t until we were back in the car and headed toward the helipad that I was able to take my first clear breath again.

  “I’m sorry,” Connor said, holding my hand in his. “I didn’t know they would be there.” He looked worried. Did he think I was angry at him?

  I looked over at him. “That was scary.”

  “You did great.”

  “Did I?” I laughed. “I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust.”

  “My brother can be a lot to take.”

  “He was perfectly nice,” I said, reflecting back on his questions. “I think it was just scary because I didn’t know how to explain my relationship to you… Connor, what are we to each other? Am I your girlfriend?”

  “Do you want to be?” he asked. His voice was low, like he was trying not to frighten me off.

  “Do you want me to be?” my voice shook a little bit. I’d been okay without having labels on us before. But meeting Wallace had just driven home to me how very weird it was that I was Connor’s live-in surrogate and his lover. All of a sudden, I needed to know where we stood.

  Connor pulled over. We were in an abandoned parking lot.

  “Yes,” he told me, looking me in the eye. “I don’t want there to be any doubt in your mind, Izzie.” He was calling me Izzie again now, and I didn’t mind. “I want to be as official with you as you’ll let me be.”

  I swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”

  He smiled at me then, with a possessive, heavy look in his eyes. What came next was inevitable.

  Connor put the rented SUV in park and reached for me across the console. I kissed him, tasting wine on his lips and feeling my desperate, trembling need turn to a demand. My body needed to reaffirm what we were to each other. And it seemed like he needed it too.

  “Take off your panties and get in the back seat,” he told me when we broke apart. He wasn’t asking me, he was telling me, and that was fine. I wasn’t capable of rational thought at the moment. I shimmied out of the black lacy thong in the passenger seat, got out of the car like an automaton, and got back in the row behind where I’d been sitting. Connor met me a moment later.