“Sure. My office.”
He led me out of the crowd to the back, passing his stock area along the way. There were tons and tons of wineglasses, vases, dishes, and other unique items that he displayed throughout the store stocked up in the back. Finally, we reached his office, and he tried to quickly organize the papers on his desk before he pulled a chair up for me to sit down. He sat in a smaller chair right next to me.
“It’s really great to see you,” he began. “After you ran out on me that way, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever hear from you again.”
“I know. That’s why I came. I wanted to apologize for that and for not calling you after.” I dropped my head, thinking back to how I’d acted that day. Not calling Donovan since then was really unforgivable.
Donovan chuckled. “Heiress, it’s cool. We’ve known each other way too long to have hard feelings about things like that.”
Relieved, I smiled. It wasn’t that I thought that he would hold that against me. Donovan had always been so easygoing. He never took things to heart, never got his feelings hurt too easily. I was just glad that he accepted my apology.
“Well, I still want to make it up to you. Can I take you to lunch?”
“You don’t have to make anything up to me, but I’m not going to say no to free food.”
I laughed as I got up quickly and grabbed my purse.
“Unfortunately,” he began, stopping me in my tracks, “I can’t leave the store right now. I won’t get out of here until around six. So . . . can we make it dinner?”
I paused. The thought of heading all the way back to Malibu and then turning around to come back to Beverly Hills didn’t really appeal to me. But I did owe Donovan at least that. Plus, if we had dinner together, I’d have company for the evening, rather than being in the house all by myself, doing nothing.
“Okay, but can we pick a restaurant in between here and Malibu?”
“Sure, that would be great. I’ll call you before I leave here and we’ll figure it out.”
“Great! Let me just call my driver.”
“A driver, huh?” he kidded me.
I waved him away, called Al, then followed Donovan as he led me out of his office, back through the crowd of people. When we finally reached the front door, he gave me a hug and a kiss on my forehead, which sent chills up my spine. That was the second time his touch had affected me like this. What was that all about?
I pushed that awkward feeling to the back of my head and walked across the street to where Al was parked. As I slipped into the car, I couldn’t forget the way Donovan’s hug made me feel. I hoped tonight wouldn’t be uncomfortable. All I wanted was to have a little fun with an old friend.
Inhaling deeply, I settled back in the car. I needed to get some rest since I was going out tonight. Just then my cell phone rang. I looked down, hoping it was King to tell me he had made it safely, but an unknown number flashed across my screen. My first thought was that it was Donovan like before, but I had programmed his number in my phone.
“Hello?” I cautiously answered.
Blair’s voice rang out. “No, I’m not dead, so you don’t have to ask.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. Now I have the opportunity to kill you,” I responded playfully. “How dare you go this long without talking to me? And what number are you calling me from?”
“My new cell. I lost my other one, and I’m just now getting a new one.” That was understandable, and I was relieved to hear that she wasn’t ignoring me.
“Blair, I have so much to tell you. I’m not sure I can do it all over the phone.” I wanted to see Blair. I needed us to hang like the old days before I became someone’s mommy.
“Okay. Why don’t we meet sometime this week?”
We made plans to meet at her place and maybe hit Venice Beach. I hung up, feeling at ease. I was having dinner with Donovan tonight and hanging with Blair later on. Even though King was gone, I was thankful to have my friends around to keep me occupied.
Chapter 19
The time between seeing Donovan at his shop and meeting him for dinner flew by. His phone call jolted me out of my nap, and we settled on going to an Italian restaurant in Malibu. Of course that made me glad. Since I was driving, I was thrilled that I wouldn’t have to make that trip all the way to Beverly Hills by myself.
I slipped on a black after-five pencil skirt dress that still made my figure look good even though my bump was starting to show. I made sure my makeup was soft and not overdone, then tussled with my hair to put all the curls in place. I scanned myself in the mirror one more time, and I had to admit, I looked good. Then I paused. Why did I care about how I looked? This was not a date. This was two friends going to an innocent dinner. I had a boyfriend and I was pregnant, for God’s sake.
Surprisingly, the restaurant was less than twenty minutes away from my house, and when I arrived, of course, Donovan was standing outside, waiting for me. I took in his outfit as I pulled up to the valet. He had on black slacks and a blue button-down shirt that was slightly unbuttoned at the top. It suited him to a tee.
He opened my door before the valet could reach my car. After he gave my keys to the attendant, Donovan followed me into the restaurant. Once we were seated at a table in the back of the restaurant, he said, “Heiress, don’t take this the wrong way, but you are wearing that dress.”
I looked away from him and felt my cheeks grow warm. Why was I acting this way? Like I was a schoolgirl with my first crush? Dang! I was a grown woman in a committed relationship, and I was pregnant. I needed to get my mind right. As I glanced over the menu, I felt Donovan’s eyes on me. Then I tried to take quick glances up at him, but every time I looked up, he was looking at me.
Finally, I just had to ask him, “Why do you keep staring at me?”
“I’m just honored that you got so dressed up for me. You look so good that if I’d known you were going to look this good, I would’ve worn a tux.”
I laughed. It was crazy. Why did I get so dressed up? Most of the people around us were in casual pants or nice jeans.
“Oh, well. I can go home and change if you want.” I moved, pretending that I was going to get up, but Donovan grabbed my hand and pulled me back into my seat.
“Don’t you dare get up and leave me. Just sit and let me admire how beautiful you are.”
This time the silence was comfortable for me as we both scanned the menu, trying to decide what we were going to eat. Not even ten minutes had passed, but already I was having a great time.
When I put my menu down, having made my selection, Donovan was once again looking at me. I had to admit, it felt good to have him look at me this way. With each passing day, I was becoming more self-conscious about my body, because soon, I knew, I would be as big as a house. But right now Donovan gazed at me as if I was a beautiful woman.
“So, Donny, how have you been since the last time I saw you?” I tried to take the attention off of me for a moment.
“Busy.”
“I saw that. The store seems to be doing well.” I was proud of the success he seemed to be having. And for a moment I felt a tinge of regret. Donovan was living his passion, and I’d tossed my passion aside.
“Yeah,” he said, “we had an article in Couture Home Living magazine a few weeks ago, which really seemed to attract a lot of business.” His eyes sparkled as he talked about the store. And as he told me more about the magazine’s interview, I remembered how Donovan had always been fascinated by shapes and objects as we were growing up. Who would’ve ever known that his fascination would become his passion and then such a successful business?
As the night went on, we fell right back into our old vibe. We were a long way from the days when we used to hang out with each other and our other friends in each other’s basements, but as we chatted, that was how it felt. Being here with Donovan was so easy and comfortable, and I cherished his company. We talked about everything from politics to all the fun times we had together.
And then
he shocked me. He pulled out a picture of us at the prom and handed it to me.
“Oh my God, Donny. I can’t believe you still have this.” I laughed at the ridiculous photo, which was turned up at the corners and browned on the edges. We were only seventeen, thinking that we knew it all. I had thought I looked good with my big hair and my silver, sleeveless polyester dress. But Donovan wasn’t much better. He had braids and wore flip-down glasses like Dwayne Wayne from A Different World, as if he was determined to bring back that style. He had on a cream suit with a silver tie and vest that matched my dress.
“Those were the days, huh?” he said, his voice filled with as much amusement as mine.
“We thought we were doing it back then.” I couldn’t stop laughing as tears fell from my eyes.
“I thought I was GQ,” he said with such a serious, straight face that I laughed even harder. There was nothing about this picture that yelled GQ at all.
It took me a few more minutes to compose myself and catch my breath. I gave Donovan back the picture and told him never to pull it out again. I would have preferred he burned it, but he grinned and tucked it right back into his wallet.
“I needed that laugh, Donny.” I wiped the tears from my eyes, trying not to smear whatever was left of my makeup.
“You know, you’re the only person who still calls me Donny.” He reached for my hand.
“You’ll always be Donny to me.”
Sitting there, with Donovan holding my hand, felt good, felt nice, felt natural.
After a couple of silent moments, he asked, “Heiress, are you happy?”
I sat back a little; his question had caught me off guard.
He added, “Are you happy with where you are in your life?”
Had this been anyone else, I would have immediately responded yes. And then I would have talked all about King and our baby. But sitting here with Donovan, looking into his eyes, I couldn’t find the words to form the right answer. So instead of answering, I asked my own question. “Why do you ask that?”
“I just want to make sure. I’ve known you for a long time, and I know that sometimes on the surface you may seem happy, but I’ve always been able to see through your mask.”
I took my hand back from his grasp. I should have opened my mouth and given him my soliloquy on my relationship, and on how being with King and having this baby were more than I ever thought I wanted. Then I should have thanked him for dinner, driven home, called King, and told that man how much I loved him. Instead, I didn’t do any of that. I sat right there and looked into Donovan’s eyes. Eyes that were filled with such genuine care . . . and desire.
A couple of minutes passed, but I felt like I needed to answer Donovan’s question. “I’m living each day to find out. But I’m sure that I’m moving toward happiness.”
He nodded, and then for the rest of our time together, we ate. We did chat a bit, but the dynamics between us had changed. By the time Donovan walked me out of the restaurant, I was back to feeling comfortable with him again, though his words still rang in my ears.
“I hope we can hang out more often than every blue moon,” he said as he helped me into the car.
“Definitely.”
He grinned, as if he’d just won a prize. “Then I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said excitedly.
A smile was on my face from the time I left that restaurant until I settled in bed. I didn’t even notice that King had never called me to let me know that he’d made it to New York. All I could think about was how wonderful it was to be rebuilding my friendship with Donovan.
And I couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
Chapter 20
I met Blair at Venice Beach, and as always, she was stunning. I had no idea what she had going on or who this new man was, which was unusual since we told each other everything, but it was doing her good. Her khaki shorts and cute tank top complimented her frame perfectly. I couldn’t help but feel fat around her. We walked along the beach, trying to catch each other up on what had being going on.
“Every time I see you, I still can’t get over how great you look,” I declared, complimenting her.
She didn’t respond. She just grinned, as if she was thinking about what was making her look so fabulous.
“I guess the mystery man has really got you going,” I said, trying to pry some information from my bestie.
“Yeah, we’re enjoying each other.”
“So when can I meet him?”
“We’re not at that stage yet,” she said quickly. “I actually really like this guy, so I’m doing something different.”
I could understand where she was coming from. There was something about love for a man that made you do things outside of your norm. I thought it was sweet that someone had Blair this open. As long as she was happy, I was happy.
“What about you? Still living the fairy tale?” She turned her attention on me.
“For the most part,” I began. “I mean, he has been really great ever since we found out I was pregnant.” I held my breath, waiting for her response.
“Pregnant? W-wow!”
I couldn’t tell if she was happy for me or shocked or what. I had waited so long to tell her the news, I guess I expected a different reaction. I wanted her to be happy and excited for me. We walked in silence for what seemed like forever, trying to gather our thoughts.
“So?” I finally responded.
“So what?”
“Are you excited for me?”
“Oh, yes. Yes!” She grabbed me and wrapped her arms around me tightly. “You’re going to make me an auntie.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God,” I said as we parted.
I told Blair how King and I had dinner at his parents’ house and his mother was the one who told me I was pregnant. She seemed just as taken aback as I was when she heard that. I went on and on about everything that had happened in the past few weeks. It felt really good to talk to her openly and honestly. She seemed to be the only person I could do that with. When I got into King’s mood swings, the energy of our conversation shifted.
“Well, what are you doing?”
“Excuse me?” I was extremely offended that she asked me that.
“I meant for you. What are you doing for you?”
I couldn’t answer the question.
“Heiress, maybe you should get a hobby or something. Occupy some of your time. Join a charity or something. That’s what a lot of athletes’ wives do. I know I would definitely do it.”
Blair was right. Maybe I needed to do something that I cherished so I could regain happiness within myself. Writing was the only thing other than King that I absolutely loved. It was my world once, and I thought it was time to return to it.
“I could do some freelance writing.”
“See? There you go. Get back on that horse. King is out there doing his thing. Go do yours.”
I knew there was a reason I wanted to talk to Blair so badly. She understood what it took to make me look at things differently. She wasn’t negative about anything or discouraging. She was the one to tell me that I had the life that most women dreamed of, and I just had to make it work for me in all aspects. There was nothing like a woman who knew how to deal with a man who had fame and fortune to coach you through it.
We spent the rest of the day together, enjoying the city like two high school teenagers. I was able to get her to give me a little detail on her mystery man, but not much. She must’ve really wanted to keep this relationship in tact not to share the good stuff with me. Nevertheless, I was happy for her, and I was basking in my own happiness.
Chapter 21
It had been a little over a week since Donovan and I had dinner, and we had hung out almost every day since. He took me to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, we had lunch on Redondo Beach, and we even headed up to Six Flags Magic Mountain, going on rides, eating cotton candy and funnel cakes like we were kids.
Hanging out with Donovan was refreshing. It was like I had a
real friend, and I didn’t have to be worried about swarms of women—and even men sometimes—attacking us as we walked around.
Today was the first time I was going to Donovan’s warehouse, all the way up in Pasadena. I couldn’t believe it wasn’t closer to his store, but he said he creates better away from work.
“I want you to come to my place so that I can show you something,” he’d said.
“What?” I had asked him.
He wouldn’t tell me, and now, as I drove up the Pasadena freeway, the suspense was killing me. With my GPS system, it didn’t take me long to find Donovan’s place, an older building sitting high on a mountain.
The view from the street was absolutely breathtaking. I felt like I could see all of Los Angeles below me. But the building . . . wasn’t so amazing. It was old—at least seventy-five years old—and looked worn down. Actually, it looked almost abandoned.
I stumbled along the dirt walkway in my three-inch heels and knocked on the metal door. After a moment Donovan slid the door back, wearing nothing but jeans and a white undershirt.
“You made it.” He greeted me with a smile and a hug.
“What the heck are you doing way up here, in the middle of nowhere?”
He released his grip on me and slid the door open wider to reveal this huge warehouse with all kinds of machines.
“What is all of this?” I was confused and amazed at the same time.
“This is where I create all my pieces.”
I was just stunned at the amount of machinery that he had. It looked like he had every piece of equipment any glassmaker could ever need to make whatever he or she wanted. They ranged from old machines that looked like they didn’t even move, let alone work, all the way to top-of-the-line equipment.
“Do you operate all this by yourself?”
“No. I usually have a team of people here, but I shut production down today.”
Until this moment, I had no idea how massive the process of making glass was. I could only imagine what this place looked like when people were here working.
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