Tangled Hearts (Evermore 4 Book Box Set)

by ANDREA SMITH

  The nurse came back with the paperwork attached to a clipboard and sat down on the edge of my bed. “Now honey, most couples choose cremation for these little angels. So here’s a paper explaining it all, along with several local crematories and their costs. The hospital will cover the cost of the cremation and turn it in on your medical insurance because it’s covered. We will also make the call to the crematory for you so no worries there.”

  I nodded but my brain was officially in a fog. I was still holding my baby. It seemed somehow sacrilegious to be talking about the disposal of her tiny body with her resting in my arms.

  “If you choose burial,” she continued, “well that’s more expensive, and here’s all the information on that, along with the funeral homes in the county. Now if you choose to go that route, you will need to make those preparations and arrange payment on your own. The hospital doesn’t handle those arrangements.”

  “I understand,” I whispered, hearing Jazzy’s sobs from somewhere nearby.

  “Here’s the Certificate of Fetal Death. This gets filed with the County Health Department, the Office of Vital Statistics. You’ll need to sign it at the bottom.”

  I took it from her with my free hand and glanced at it. “Wait, this is wrong,” I said abruptly. “This says ‘Baby Girl Evans.’ She has a name. I want this to show her name.”

  “Well, honey, you can put whatever name you want on her memorial. This is just for Vital Records.”

  “I know what it’s for! And it’s going to have her name on it or I won’t sign it, do you understand?”

  “Neely.” Jazzy interjected, her voice trying to calm me.

  “No,” the nurse said, “it’s okay. We can certainly change this for you. What did you name your daughter?” she asked, pressing her hand to my cheek in a gesture of consolation and compassion.

  “Her name is Drake, D-R-A-K-E, last name Evans,” I replied.

  “I’ll get this corrected and back to you then, Neely. You spend a few more minutes with Drake while I do that, okay?”

  I nodded, cuddling my baby closer. I’d looked at the papers. There was no way she was going to be cremated. The burial costs were a little over two grand. “Jazzy,” I said, “See if you can get someone to buy my car. I’ll sell it for two grand, but I need it sold right now.”

  “Neely,” she said, coming over to me, “your car is worth way more than that.”

  “I need to sell it right now. I’ve got a funeral and burial to pay for, so right now the price is two thousand dollars cash. The title is in my top dresser drawer at home. Can you get it and start making calls?”

  And she did. Before the following morning my car had been sold and Jazzy had made the burial arrangements and memorial service for Drake Evans, my sleeping angel.

  Four weeks later the post-mortem report had come back. Drake had died in the womb due to high HCG and ACP levels causing placental abruption.

  It was an anomaly and was seen predominantly in first pregnancies. He claimed it wouldn’t happen in subsequent pregnancies. It gave me little comfort though. The angel I’d carried for twenty-two weeks was gone. And no babies in my future would ever make up for the one that was missing.

  THE END

  Star F*cking

  Book #4 - Evermore Series

  By

  Andrea Smith

  Dedication

  This series is so close to my heart. Not only because it’s the first time I’ve written a serial, but because Neely and Seth are so dear to my heart.

  Yeah, I get that they’re fictional characters I created, but damn it if I didn’t give them some redeeming qualities that leapt out of the pages and went straight to my heart.

  I hope the reader found Neely to be different than any of the other h’s I’ve written. I tried my best to give her a bit of Lindsey and Tylar, with a big sprinkle of Darcy to top it off.

  Seth?

  What can I say about Seth? He’s no Trey, Slate, Taz or Easton. He’s totally new and I love how non-cookie cutter he turned out to be.

  Thanks for reading. This series is for YOU.

  And a very special shout-out to my best Beta Reader and dear friend, Janett Gomez. Thank you for always being there to tell me like it is, and for the tremendous support you always provide!

  To my formatter-extraordinaire, Erik Gevers, who is always the last set of eyes on these books before release and works magic under deadline pressure! You are awesome!

  To Catherine Wright, the best PA ever!

  And Ashley Blaschak Stout who I love to make cry. (Just kiddin’, babe!) XOXO

  Chapter 1

  November 15, 1999 (Present Day)

  “Look at this!” Jazzy yelled, barging into my bedroom before my alarm clock had even gone off. “It’s here in the LA Times Entertainment Section, too. So it must be true!”

  I sat up in my bed and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “What the hell time is it?” I asked. “It’s still freaking dark outside, Jazz.”

  “I don’t know. A little after six I guess, but listen to this!”

  She folded the newspaper in half and raised it up to her face. “Seth Drake, former star of the hit series Bangor is rumored to be the top pick on a short list for the lead male role in Samuel G. Barton’s upcoming film Love Plus One, adapted from the best-selling novel written by Adriana Nesbitt of the same title. If selected, Drake will assume the role of Taz Matthews, the enigmatic FBI special agent, beating out several more seasoned Hollywood heartthrobs such as Leo Caprialo, Luke Jeffries, and Dash Ervin. The casting hasn’t been completed yet for the female lead, however it has been widely speculated that competing for the role of Lindsey Dennison is one of the “Emmas,” one of the “Emilys,” and two of the “Ashleys.” Oh for Chrissake, can they be any more cryptic?” Jazzy huffed. “I mean which one of the Emmas, Emilys, or Ashleys? There are like five each! Anyway, this movie deal stands to put the unchartered Drake on the A-List of male leads going forward. The lead role from this movie stands to net the actor a cool seven figures!”

  Jazzy was jumping up and down like a kid at Christmas. She finally stopped, and whirled around to look at me.

  I was sitting in my bed, yawning, and giving her the stink eye for waking me up this damn early. I’d gotten in late last night from Seth’s place, and had an early appointment this morning in LA with Jerry.

  “Aren’t you even excited?” she asked, looking at me like I had grown two heads or something.

  “Yeah, Jazz, but I already knew about it. He told me last night and I had every intention of sharing it with you this morning. Once I woke up and had my cup of coffee in front of me and maybe a toasted bagel and a glass of juice? Like when we sit across the table from each other and have breakfast and conversation together some mornings? The way reasonable people do?”

  I plopped back down on my bed and pulled my covers up to my chin. “But, once again, I see the LA Times has beaten me to the punch. Stolen my thunder, if you will. So now you know and I think I’ll go back to sleep for a little bit, ‘kay?”

  “Oh…you!” she hollered, tackling me on the bed. “You could’ve woken me up with this news last night and I sure as hell wouldn’t have gone all psycho bitch on you, you know?”

  “Oh, yeah, right!” I screamed and giggled as we both started wrestling with one another. “Besides,” I continued, “he doesn’t have the part yet. I don’t want to jinx it by running my mouth all over town about it until he does.”

  “He’ll get the part. I feel it in my bones. So, you gonna tell me how things are these days between you and your superstar?” she asked, giving me a sly look.

  “We haven’t…done it if that’s what you’re trying to find out, Jazzy,” I replied with a grin. “It’s only been a few weeks. We’re taking things slow. Getting to know one another again. I’ll let you know when I’m star fucking, how’s that?”

  “Uh huh,” she deadpanned, giving me an eye roll. “I know what you’re doing, gi
rl.”

  I gave her a quizzical, clueless look. “And what is it you think I’m doing?”

  “You are keeping that man at arm’s length until you figure out how to tell him what it is you do for a living, that’s what,” she answered, feeling extremely proud of herself by the looks of it.

  “Hmph! For your information he knows I’m a freelance photographer. I mean seriously, Jazz? Do you think we’ve been hanging together for three weeks without the topic of my career coming up for discussion?”

  “You know what I mean. He doesn’t know the dirty details of your freelancing or you wouldn’t have pulled all of your Grace Evangelista shit down off of your bedroom walls. Which also tells me you’ve got plans for some sleepovers here,” she finished, laughing uncontrollably.

  “Oh, you just know me so well,” I replied dryly.

  “That I do. That I do. So, when will you tell him the rest of it?”

  I turned away and tugged one of my pillows over to cover my face. “I don’t know. I just don’t know,” I muttered. “Not until I absolutely have to…or never. Yes, never sounds good.”

  Jazzy pulled the pillow from my face and gave me one of her no nonsense, stern looks of disapproval. She was really good at those. “You can’t put it off forever, Neely. It is, after all, what you do for a living. And you might justify it by saying you told him you’re a freelance photographer, but you know as well as I do that by not telling him the whole story is kind of like lying by omission.”

  “Okay, Jiminy Cricket. Lay off for now. I’ll tell him when I know this relationship is going to endure, how’s that?”

  “Whatever, Neely. Come on. Get up and I’ll make you some breakfast. And then we can have a nice morning chat like reasonable people—is that what you called it?”

  “Bitch,” I grumbled, tossing the covers back, jumping from my bed, and following my best friend forever out to our kitchen.

  Right now I loved my life.

  Because Seth was now a part of it again, and I wanted this feeling to last forever. The world was once again a sane and safe place for Neely Evans when her star aligned with Seth Drake’s.

  Chapter 2

  Two days later.

  “Neely’s coming with me, Diana, or they can take the audition and shove it.”

  I listened from the living room sofa at Seth’s place while he chewed out his agent with what she must’ve felt was an unreasonable demand. At least that was my take on it from eavesdropping on his end of the conversation.

  For whatever reason, Seth wanted me there when he auditioned for the role of the FBI dude in this upcoming film that seemed to have Hollywood buzzing.

  “I am not on a fucking star trip! She’s my muse. I need her there. This could be my biggest break ever, I know that, okay?”

  Well, that was news to me. Me? A muse? I mentally processed that piece of information. It had never occurred to me that I’d be anyone’s muse. I was just a typical, normal twenty-one year old, living the dream in L.A., right?

  But then again, I had to admit that when Seth was not a part of my life my art had gone to shit. As I sat and listened to his argument with Diana whomever, I grabbed the notepad and pen that were lying on his coffee table, and started sketching his profile from where he stood across the room.

  His muscles rippled through the black tee he was wearing. His low-slung jeans accentuated his narrow hips, but the bulging of his thighs couldn’t be missed. While this wasn’t the most preferable of sketching medium, it didn’t matter. Seth was my most loved subject matter. He always had been.

  Even when I’d busied myself all those long summer days when we were kids by sketching or painting seascapes, puffy cloud formations, or angry white-capped waves, Seth had somehow been my motivation. It wasn’t as if he had showered me with compliments, because he hadn’t. But he really studied my art, while in progress, or after I presented the finished product to him. He asked questions. He pointed out things that fascinated him about texturing and strokes.

  Occasionally he went so far as to remark I hadn’t quite captured what he saw when he looked at the subject matter, but quickly followed that up with something like, “I guess art is subjective, huh Neely?”

  He had taken more interest in my craft than I had in his I supposed. But really? It wasn’t as if Seth and I had put on neighborhood plays or beach skits. His craft was simply something he talked about on occasion, and, to be honest, I hadn’t taken it nearly as seriously as I should have.

  That part is what I regretted now. And maybe that was why Seth was being so insistent with his agent about my tagging along for his audition. Maybe Seth wanted to give me an up close and personal glimpse at his talent, in which case, I would be his biggest fan no matter if he got the part or not.

  I’d always been Seth’s biggest fan. I just had sucked at showing it I guess.

  “Great. Glad we’re on the same page, Diana,” he said. “Have the script couriered over in the morning and I’ll have Neely stand in for the reading here. Yep. Later.”

  I glanced up from my nearly finished sketch and arched a questioning brow. “What was that about?” I asked.

  Seth came over to where I was sitting, a salacious grin on his handsome face. He grabbed the notepad from me before I knew what was happening. “And what is this, Ms. Evans?” he asked sternly, glancing at the sketch. His face softened with something that tugged at my heart. “Neely,” he said softly, “I see you haven’t completely given up your art, have you babe?”

  “Let’s just say I took a leave of absence for a while, and you haven’t answered my question, Seth.”

  He tossed the pad down on the table and dropped down next to me on the sofa, and released a big sigh. “Just talking to my agent. Told her I wanted you at my audition on Thursday. The script will be here in the morning. Would you mind helping me with the read-through?”

  My eyes met his in confusion. “Do you mean you want me to listen to your part? Or play opposite or what?”

  Seth chuckled. “It’s not complicated at all. The way I like to do it is first I just do a silent read-through, and then a verbal one a couple of times, with the director’s notes incorporated. And then have you read the opposing dialogue once I’ve memorized my lines.”

  “You can memorize lines that quickly?” I had to admit, I was a little bit amazed by that.

  “For a scene? Yeah, it’s no biggie. So, will you?”

  “Help you out?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Hmm,” I said, giving him a wicked smile, “I might be convinced to do that for you. How early do you need me over here?”

  He grabbed my legs and pulled them across his lap, his strong hands massaging my calves. “I was kind of hoping you might stay over, Neely.”

  I felt a flutter of anticipation in my belly. Seth and I had been taking it slow. Extremely slow. In fact, it was going a bit slower than what I had expected, but I understood why. We hadn’t explored the sexual aspect of our newly revived relationship because he and I had some emotional mending to do before we took that step. I wasn’t sure even now if we were ready.

  He sensed my reluctance, and stopped the massage. “Neely, we don’t have to sleep together. I mean, I’m not trying to pressure you into something you’re not ready for. I know we have some baggage between us. Some unsaid things…at least I do. I will say those things to you, Neely, I promise. I just want to make sure that when I do, I say them right. All I know is that I want you in my life if you’re okay with that. I think we need to redefine ourselves with each other. Does that sound stupid?”

  I shook my head, and placed my hand on his arm. “It makes perfect sense to me, Seth. Right now, I feel like we’re kind of starting from scratch again. I like that you feel that way too. I’ve missed…us.”

  He pulled me up onto his lap, and brushed my hair back with his hand. “I have too, baby,” he said softly, his lips brushing gently against my forehead. His hand cupped the back of my head
and pressed me closer to him. “I have, too,” he repeated. “So, will you stay?”

  I nodded, “Yes, but I’ll have to stop back at my place and grab some of my stuff.”

  “No problem,” he replied with a smile. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

  Chapter 3

  “Okay, Neely. Read that line again. And remember babe, you’ve just gone through a traumatic experience, both physically and emotionally. You’re probably suffering from PTSD as a result of it.”

  I gave Seth an eye roll. “How can you tell all of that through these snippets of the script they sent over to you?” I asked.

  He smiled a bit sheepishly and shrugged. “I read the book.”

  And this kind of amazed me. “You read ‘Love Plus One?’” I asked, my eyes widening in surprise.

  “Sure. I read the whole series. I wouldn’t consider auditioning for a part if I couldn’t relate to the character, Neely.”

  I considered that for a moment. It made sense to me. “Do most actors do that?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, highlighting something on the script copy he was skimming, “I just know what works for me. Now, can you give me that line again with more emotion?”

  I rolled my copy of the script up and smacked it against the palm of my hand until he finally looked over at me. “What?”

  “I’m not the one auditioning here, Seth. I’m simply reading the girl’s lines so you can read your part,” I reminded him.

  He gave me one of his panty-melting smiles and walked over to where I was sitting on the arm of the sofa. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss across my forehead. “I know that, baby. But it helps me stay in character, okay? I didn’t mean to come off all bossy. Forgive me?”

  Shit. He knew damn well I’d forgive him anything. After spending the night curled up against him in his California king-sized bed, where we’d talked most of the night, I’d felt closer to him than ever.