by M Dauphin
11- Tatum
Molly and I spent the rest of the afternoon planning out the three days of shooting that were rapidly approaching. She had never shot such a big name wedding, and I’ve never shot a wedding period. I was getting crash courses in lighting, camera use, and any other tiny tidbit that she could think of as we went through the afternoon. By the end of the night my brain was swelling with information, as well as an ever present swelling a little lower. Just looking at her move in her tiny shorts and crazy hair made me want her. She didn’t even know how beautiful she was, always pulling at her shirt to adjust it, or redoing her messy hair to make it look like she meant for it to be insane. I loved every fucking bit of it, too. This was all so new to me, but if love really did grow like so many people say, I look forward to the future when I love her more than now, if that’s even humanly possible.
She had some things she needed to finish with schedules, so I headed back to the house to start on dinner. I didn’t really know how to cook, but I could make a mean pot of spaghetti and meatballs. Mom’s specialty and one thing she made her kids learn before they left the house to move on into the big mean world.
On the porch was another box, much like the ones we have been unpacking, but it was unmarked. Alert on high now due to my father’s training to be suspicious of everything out of the norm, I looked all around before picking up the box and carefully took it inside. It wasn’t heavy, but I knew it didn’t matter. Sometimes the most dangerous things barely weighed anything.
I turned on the side table light, just enough to light up the room but not enough to alert anyone on the outside that I was home. I set the box on the coffee table and sit on the couch preparing myself to open it. An awful feeling is settling into the pit of my stomach and when I open the box I almost lose it.
One lone, dirty, baby blanket lie in the bottom of the box and takes my breath completely away from me.
It was his. It was in his carrier when she ripped him out of my world. Tears stream down my face and land on my arm resting on the table before I know I’m even crying. The blanket so soft, I still remember him wrapped up in it while he laid unresponsive in the hospital. The hole in my heart that had started to heal was ripped open at the awful memories the blanket brought back. It felt like I couldn’t breathe, like there was something sitting on my chest, a burning that wouldn’t cool down.
Sadness was suddenly replaced with anger, burning rage. Who the hell would do this? I was adamant that every trace of a child be wiped clean. Nothing was to be left to remind me of what I lost. Hell I left a great life because I didn’t even want the knowing stares and sympathy! Some parents that lose their child keep everything just as it was the last time their child touched it. Some never made their beds, dusted their rooms, or changed décor. I was the total opposite. The therapists said everyone grieves differently, and I was just not following the path most parents did, but there was nothing wrong with it.
Now some asshole decides to pull this? Who the fuck kept my sons blanket? And why the hell did they just now decide to leave it on Molly’s front porch? What does she have to do with any of this?
Going into survival mode, I put the blanket back in the box and stash it in my office behind other boxes that I needed to unpack. Molly doesn’t need to know about this. It has nothing to do with her, and she already has enough on her plate to worry about. I make sure the doors are all locked and blinds closed, then I go about my night preparing dinner for the woman I love. All the while my brain is working it’s hardest to figure out what the fuck that was all about.
Setting the table I notice a notecard on the floor next to the coffee table. Facing up are the words “revenge” in letters that seemed to be scribbled frantically. The other side killed me:
Life only means something when you have loved ones to share it with.
The breath rushed out of me as I read the note over and over. The room no longer existed, I couldn’t smell the smells of the dinner I was preparing. All that I could see were the words on the page in front of me. What the fuck? I was trained in all types of physical contact and fighting matters, but when it came to this psychological bullshit I had nothing. Fuck mind games.
The door opened and I quickly put the note in my pocket and returned to the stove to finish up dinner. Trouble seems to follow my girl around, and the last thing I need is to have her wrapped up in more danger. She already is in enough when it comes to the Delany family.
“Hey babe” she purred as her arms wrapped around me. “Smells wonderful.”
I hadn’t cooked for her yet so tonight would be the test. No sane person could turn down my mother’s spaghetti. We sat down to eat, making small talk about the wedding this weekend. My mind was racing but I had to keep my cool, there was enough on her plate to make her worry about this. I needed to call my father.
The noises that came out of her while she was finishing up her massive plate of carbs were enough to make me need to adjust my pants. This woman can even make eating erotic. Jesus. At least I know she enjoyed it. Anyone who didn’t like my mom’s spaghetti was bat-shit crazy.
12- Molly
Damn he can cook. He claims that is the only meal he really knows how to make, but I would beg to differ. I need to thank his mother if I ever meet her. Tatum has been weird ever since I got home. I feel terrible for keeping my secret from him, but I can’t spread any hope until I know for a fact. I still don’t even know how he is going to react, hell he could be pissed and leave me to raise this baby on my own.
Before my thoughts start to run away from me my work phone rings. Tatum grabs it before me and I hear him answer professionally, then his face gets tight and he holds the phone out for me.
“It’s for you” he states, then stomps away to leave me wondering what the hell just happened.
“Hello, this is Molly.”
“Molly, wonderful to hear your voice, this is Rob.” What the hell? It’s 8pm, why is he calling me this late?
“How can I help you, Mr. Delany?” I sighed. Something tells me this man is going to be harder to please than I originally thought. Why is he so serious about his cousins wedding pictures?
“I was hoping to meet with you. I need to speak with you and you alone about something that I’m not comfortable speaking about over the phone.”
Ugh.
“Can it wait until tomorrow? It is late and we have a busy week.”
“No.”
Wow, that was it. No explanation.
“Well then, okay. Where are we meeting?”
He rattles off an address, a 24 hour coffee shop, and hangs up promptly. Shit, I really wanted to go to bed. This nausea has been eating at me all day.
“Tatum!” I yell up the stairs.
He comes to the top, not speaking, obviously trying to calm himself. What the hell has gotten into him tonight? Maybe it’s a good thing I’m leaving him alone tonight.
“Hey, that was Rob. Something came up and he needs to meet to talk about something urgent tonight. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I’m going with you.” He decided and started to walk down the stairs. I could feel the nausea rolling through my stomach, damn nerves. Damn baby. NO..not damn baby. Happy thoughts.
“I’m not sure that’s what he meant when he called me. He made sure to mention he needed to talk to specifically me. Something is going on that he’s uncomfortable with, and I can’t lose this client because they aren’t comfortable with me. Please, stay here and I’ll be back soon.” Come on stomach, why always in front of him?
He stopped at the bottom step and glared at me. I stood my ground and stared back. I was going to win this.
After I ran to the bathroom and spilled his mother’s spaghetti into the toilet. Damnit.
“Babe I’m worried about you. I think you have something, please reconsider leaving tonight.” He said as he rubbed my back while I knelt on the cold floor of the bathroom. If he only knew what I had…
“I’m fine, my nerves are
shot. I’ll do this meeting then be home before you know it. If it makes you feel better we will work from home tomorrow, okay?”
That seemed to help, though I could tell he wasn’t happy about me leaving. Well, me neither buddy but duty calls!
***
The café is practically empty, other than some teens hanging out in the corner. I wait at a table near the bathroom, just in case my stomach decided to disagree with the awful smell coming from the kitchen. Ugh.
He walks in and heads straight for me, like he owns the place. The polo shirt, the shorts, all make him seem so carefree and harmless. If it weren’t for the pitch black eyes he would look like he was transplanted here from Malibu. Something about the darkness in them tells a different story, though.
“Thank you for meeting me so soon, Molly.”
“All a part of the job, Rob. What’s up?” Hopefully this goes quick. My stomach really was not agreeing with the smells in this place.
“Ah, well. This is awkward, but it needs to be said. I’m not comfortable with your relationship with ...Tatum is it? Your ‘assistant’. I’m not sure my cousin would appreciate your relationship with a coworker. The display I saw in your office makes me worried that your mind will not be on the wedding if he is tagging along.”
My eyes are huge, I’m sure, and I think my mouth is open. What the hell is he saying? Oh God…it’s coming up. My mouth starts to water but I push it back. Mind over matter, right?
“I’m sorry you feel that way. I can assure you we will be professional for the shoot, Rob. There is no need to worry.”
“We are Delany’s, Molly. There is always reason to worry.”
“I’m sorry y-” nope, it’s not going to wait. Fuck me. I practically run to the bathroom and slam the door before I start puking what was left in my stomach out in the nasty toilet. Dear lord it was not this bad the first time…this sucks! Taking a minute to clean myself up, I wash my face, my hands, my arms, and wait until the puffy eyes recede before returning.
I sit back down and before I can get another word out he speaks.
“How far along are you?”
“Excuse me?” all of the men in my life have officially lost it tonight.
“Your complexion is perfect and glowing, you are only drinking water, and your urge to run to the bathroom can only be matched by an equally pregnant woman in the midst of morning sickness. By the looks of it, however, you have more than just morning sickness. I’ve seen my share of them. Don’t lie to me.” He glares at me like I owe him something. I don’t owe him shit.
“You know what Mr. Delany. You are my client. I will respect your wishes when it comes to the wedding that is rapidly approaching. However, don’t think you can meddle in my personal life. I draw a very bold line between my personal and professional lives, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Well, at least I used to.
He chuckled and looked at me like it was cute I was trying to stand up for myself.
“Does he know?”
Damn him.
“No.” I sated simply. It was implied by my look that I didn’t want him knowing, though. He nodded and looked away for a minute, as if thinking carefully about this next words.
“Then Ms. Ward,” he slyly added, “You will leave him at home during the wedding. End of discussion.”
“I understand you are worried, but without an assistant I am completely unable to shoot this wedding. And I don’t appreciate you attempting to manipulate me like that, either.” I snapped. Maybe it wasn’t really worth the money. He acts like everyone here owes him something. Kind of like my first impression of Tatum. Expect more broody and mysterious. And built. He was staring at me, stone-faced, unmoving. He lowered his voice and practically growled the next words at me.
“Ms. Ward you don’t have a choice in the matter. You do the shoot with one of my assistants, or you lose the contract, you lose the trust you had from your boyfriend, and you put your unborn child in danger. We wouldn’t want that again, now, would we?”
I should have slapped him and done away with the contract, but I was more shocked than anything. Money was money, there will always be money. I was more afraid of my reputation and the studio’s reputation failing because of losing such a big contract so close to the wedding. Add in the threat about the baby and I should have been finished with him right then. Should have, but I wasn’t.
“I’ll be in touch. Tomorrow. Go get some sleep, Molly, you look like you need it.” He added, then walked out into the dark night. Wonderful. How in the world was I going to convince Tatum to stay home that weekend? Today has already been tough between us, this is just going to make things between us even more strained.
13- Tatum
I sat on the porch the entire time she was gone, thinking about how much has really changed in the last month. I called my dad and filled him in on the blanket incident, then he needed to go take care of some things so I was left here all alone. I felt empty when she wasn’t here, which is a very strange feeling for me. I’m used to being on my own, not having anyone to answer to. Now, with Molly, I want to be with her every waking minute. I want to spend my life making her happy. I want to be the one that helps her out of tough situations. I want to be the one that celebrates with her, the one she thinks to call first in good times and bad. Hell, I was becoming a hopeless romantic. The men I used to make fun of under my breath, the ones that I swore I’d never be. She’s my everything.
Breaking my thoughts, I see her park the car in front of the house. She doesn’t get out right away, and I’m not sure if she knows I’m sitting here. I watch her from the porch, the streetlight lighting up the inside of the car just enough to make out her movements. She just sits there for a minute, then puts her hands over her face. They stay there for a moment, like she’s troubled, then when she lowers her hands I notice her wiping under her eyes. Like she’s wiping away tears.
My face starts to get hot, thinking of all the awful things he did to make her cry. She’s so tough, though, what could be so bad that she would be crying by herself in her car? Why isn’t she at least crying on my shoulder? Do I go down there to her and let her know I saw her, or should I stay right here and play dumb? Why are relationships so difficult!?
I chose option 2, staying put in my chair afraid that if I did get up I wouldn’t stop until I was beating the face of Mr. Robert Delany. That would be bad, though. I think.
Molly finally gets it in her to crawl out of the car and come up the sidewalk. She stops on the stairs and gives me a weak smile, puffy eyes and all.
“Hey” she said.
“Hey you, mind telling me what has you so upset tonight?”
“Oh, you saw that?” She looked down at her feet, almost embarrassed that she was caught crying in her car. Alone.
“Yea. I didn’t like the fact that you were meeting him tonight, and then you come home and have a tear storm in your car before coming in to me. What’s going on babe? I’m starting to get worried” And Tatum Savage doesn’t worry about things like this. At least that’s how it used to be before his heart was overtaken by a wild haired, green eyed beauty.
Molly sighed and dropped down on the step with her back facing me. Why was she being so distant tonight? It took her a minute or two to start talking, but I was going to be patient. She’s tough on the outside, but I know there is a lot more than a soon approaching wedding on her mind.
“He is worried that we aren’t going to be professional at the wedding after the display he saw in the office.” She finally said quietly.
“Okay. I can see where he is coming from, maybe, but he has to know your business better than that. You obviously told him we would be nothing but professional, though. I mean, we are going to be insanely busy all three days, so what is he so worried about?” I didn’t have a good feeling of where this was going.
“His cousin would hate to be overshadowed by our passion for one another.”
“She’s the fucking bride, no one will be able to overshadow t
he bride in a Delany wedding.”
“That’s not what he thinks. He says you are out. Staying home this weekend.”
Now would be a good time to continue breathing Tatum.
“And you told him to fuck off, correct?” I growled out.
“Tatum, I need this wedding. It’s the biggest name I’ve ever had as a client. It will do wonders for my business and my bank account.”
“Molly, tell me you told him no.” I’m starting to get the feeling she didn’t stick up for us like I’m hoping she did.
“I tried.” She whispered.
“FUCK no. That’s what I say about that. You are not spending three days with the Delany’s without me right by your side!” I feel sick. She is not spending all weekend with this family. I didn’t like the thought of it being a Delany wedding, but I was living with it since I’d be able to be there and watch over her.
She turned and looked at me. Not really looking at me, though. It was like she was looking through me, like she was trying to detach herself from the situation.
“I’m very sorry you feel that way, Tatum. However, the client is always right. If this is what they want and they are paying me for it, then I have to listen.” It was like I was talking to a fucking robot!
“Like hell you do. Molly I have all the money you will ever need, how much do I need to tell you that?!”
She didn’t reply, just got up and walked in the house. Shit!
14- Molly
I feel so sick right now. Unsure if it was the hormones or the recent addition of the threats and blackmail from the Delany family, I tried to lay down and go to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes I saw the horror that I lived through just a few short weeks ago. I don’t know where Tatum went or if he is still here. I know he’s pissed at me, but he’s going to need to get over it. I need this wedding. I just wish there as a way for him to be there with me.
