by Gina LaManna
Penny hung up, emotionally drained from the conversation. She glanced at the time. Nearly 10:00 p.m., which meant class would be letting out shortly. Obviously, Penny wasn’t in attendance. She hadn’t seen Roman since she’d been inside his house two days before.
She hadn’t known what to expect after Eliza broke the baby news inside the Tate residence. The home Eliza still apparently shared with Roman. Penny had known the two were living together, and while she’d thought it was odd, she had tried to understand. Or she had pretended to at least.
But then Eliza had called Roman honey and darling that afternoon, and ever since, Penny had been unable to shake the feeling that she was missing something. That her world wasn’t quite right.
What the hell did I expect from Roman after Eliza’s bombshell? Penny thought caustically. A phone call? A visit? A card? Roman knew where she lived. He had her phone number programmed into his device—or he had, once upon a time. Eerily enough, she hadn’t heard a peep. She’d tentatively reached out to him with a text, asking if they could meet, which he had ignored.
She couldn’t entirely blame him. Roman should have been the first person to know about the baby, but Penny hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him. She’d barely come to terms with the little pink line herself. Later that day, she’d found herself at an event inside her baby daddy’s ex-wife’s house—an event that had triggered catastrophic consequences. Judging by the silent treatment, Penny surmised that Roman wasn’t pleased with the news.
Still, Penny’s heart lurched every time her email notification dinged. Her breath stuttered at the jingle of her ringtone. Latent, desperate hope lived inside her, a hope that Roman would show up at her door with a bouquet of roses and demand they be a family.
Yeah, right, Penny scoffed. A family. She let out a harsh laugh. There was no such thing. Roman already had a family with his wife. The only family Penny’s child would ever know was a broken one. Her son or daughter deserved a father, and her baby wouldn’t have one by no fault of his own.
Penny had inherited all the burdens of being a wife without the benefits of having a husband. She had the child, the responsibilities. She’d need to cook and clean and secure a stable job. She’d need to provide insurance and childcare and love for this baby, yet she had nobody to turn to for support. A single wife, she thought caustically. That was exactly what she was.
But was it really all Roman’s fault? Was the baby his? According to Penny’s calculations, she’d slept with Ryan during the start of her fertile window. By the end of it, she’d fallen into bed with Roman. Still, the baby must belong to Roman by sheer sperm volume. They’d slept together more times than Penny could count. It had to be his.
That didn’t stop Penny from wondering if she owed Ryan a heads-up about her pregnancy. There wasn’t exactly a handbook that laid out right and wrong for this situation. Penny was so far in the wrong that right was a distant shooting star.
And even if she did tell him, what would she say? There is a tiny chance this baby is yours, but I also had loads of sex with our acting instructor, so statistically, it’s probably his.
Penny harrumphed at her own idiocy and stomped past Lucky smoking on the front steps. A baby doesn’t belong here—the mantra repeated in Penny’s head.
“That’s unhealthy,” she snapped at her landlord. “You’re going to die of cancer.”
_______________________________
The parking meters shut off promptly at 10:00 p.m. on the street outside Roman’s studio. Penny arrived at 9:52 and sat diligently in her car, waiting with the engine running, until 10:01. Now that she had a baby on the way, she had to conserve every cent. She owed it to her child.
Once the meter winked to sleep, Penny slid from behind the wheel and picked her way toward Roman’s studio. Armed only with desperation, she strode in, hands balled into fists. Most of the students had already left, giving the studio a ghostly, disconcerting feel.
Roman was still inside. Penny had hunted until she’d spotted his car parked on the street—the vintage one he’d been driving as of late—because she’d needed to be sure. She’d come this far and had let herself get this riled up. There was no way she was bowing out now. As she hauled herself into the lobby, she noted Roman’s office door was closed.
Penny inched toward it, pausing as she rested a hand against the wood. A hot sizzle flashed down her spine as she remembered being pressed against the other side in a whirlwind of lust. Back when she believed her life with Roman was going somewhere, somewhere beautiful. Now, everything felt hollow—preemptively so maybe, but she couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling that the end was near.
She raised a fist and knocked on the door. When Roman didn’t answer immediately, she impatiently twisted the knob, pushed it open, and stepped into the room. Penny let the moment wash over her fully, taking a second to digest it all as she stood before him.
For the first time in a long while, Penny felt calm and in control. When she rested her hand over her belly, her confidence grew bolder. She was no longer fighting for herself and her stupid dreams. She was fighting for the innocent babe that would be born to a young, broke, unwed mother. He or she deserved better.
“Penny.” Roman leaned back in his chair. “I expected you’d come.”
He wore those studious glasses that made him look like a smart, creative, empathetic professor. The same glasses that had made Penny fall deeper in lust with him the first time she’d stepped into his office. Now, she wondered if it was all a ruse.
“I should have told you sooner,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
Penny’s lips parted in surprise. “The baby.”
Roman sighed as if disappointed in his pupil. “Are you sure the baby is mine?”
“Chances are pretty damn good. I’ll let you do the math.”
“You told me you were on birth control.”
She sucked in a breath. She’d prepared for all sorts of responses from Roman, but the one thing she hadn’t anticipated was blame. “Look, I apologize for the way you found out. That was wrong. I hadn’t planned on saying anything to Eliza and the other girls, but it just came out. I was in shock.”
“You were in shock?”
“It doesn’t sound like you believe me,” Penny said. “And if you’re insinuating that I was trying to trick you into getting me pregnant, you’re very, very wrong. I might have loved you, but I’m not that stupid.”
“You’re either very, very smart or very, very stupid. Otherwise, how do you explain showing up at my house, for my wife’s book club, to look me in the eye while she announces your pregnancy?” Roman pursed his lips. “What do you want from me?”
“You don’t get it, do you? I don’t want anything at all. I’m just here, informing you about the baby. I should have done it sooner, but this is the hand we have been dealt. I’m sorry. The ball is now in your court.”
Roman spun a pencil between two fingers. “You’re not seriously thinking about keeping it?”
Penny felt herself visibly blanch. “Thinking about it? I’ve already decided—I’m having the baby. Period. Fin. End of story.”
Roman stood, snapped the pencil against his desk with a delicate click. He strode across the room, closed the door behind Penny, and lowered his voice to a soft hum. “I would strongly suggest you reconsider. I’ve already offered to give you whatever you want. That offer expires the second you leave this room.”
“Are you threatening me?” Penny didn’t back away as he brushed against her.
The physical contact wasn’t subtle. It was meant to intimidate. Penny held on to her confidence, grasping at it with slippery fingers.
She shivered. Roman moved so he stood between Penny and the exit, blocking any easy escape. She held her ground as the scent of his spicy cologne, the one that had previously driven her wild, now churned her stomach. How had she been so blindly in love with this man?
Her mother had been right. It had been
a mistake to chase after Roman Tate. Penny had fallen for his brilliant sparkle. Roman was a disco ball of glittering silver dots dancing across a dark ceiling. Penny had chased the glimmer, chased and chased and chased until she realized it was all an illusion. As she’d reached out, clinging to her naive beliefs that he was the answer to all her problems, she’d grasped at air. Roman wasn’t the disco ball. He was the darkness around it.
“I would never threaten you,” Roman said. “I’m just trying to talk sense into you. It’s obvious you’re not thinking straight. Use your head, Penny.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I’m a grown woman, a mother now.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“I’m not giving up this child.”
“If you were on birth control, then you wouldn’t have to make that choice.” Roman’s eyes hinted that he didn’t believe it. “If you had been taking birth control, then you were already trying to prevent the conception of a child. You have options.”
“One option. Nonnegotiable.”
“I’ll pay for the abortion if that’s the issue.”
Penny felt as if she’d been gutted. “I can’t believe I loved you. Tell me the truth, Roman. Are you and Eliza even separated?”
“I’m trying to talk sense into you. Penny, you’re practically a child yourself. Can you afford the hospital bills? A crib? Diapers? A car seat? Going solely off the state of your car and apartment, the answer is no.”
Penny shook with anger. Her fists tightened into balls. It took everything in her power to stand in silence and look at him. When Roman extended a hand and rested it on her shoulder, Penny flinched.
“Think about the bigger picture,” he implored. “You moved here—what, six months ago?—to make something of yourself. You’re talented, Penny. You could go far in this business, and I mean that.”
She closed her eyes. His fingers on her shoulder singed through her dress.
“A baby changes everything,” he continued. “How do you expect to star in a movie when you’re struggling to lose the baby weight? How will you be creative with your screenplay when you’re up with a child every hour of the night? How will you pay for health insurance?”
Penny wanted to interrupt but couldn’t. Roman was siphoning the very fears from her own mind and spitting them back at her. These ideas were nothing she hadn’t considered, but somehow, hearing them from his mouth made them polluted.
“Your dreams are over, Penny. But it doesn’t have to be this way.”
Penny forced her eyes open but left her fists clenched. “It was a mistake to come here. I should have seen the writing on the wall.”
“Make this simple on all of us, please.”
“Did you ever love me at all?” Penny ducked out from under his grasp. “Were you ever going to leave your wife?”
Roman sucked in a breath. “For Christ’s sake, Penny. Don’t do this.”
Penny swallowed hard. She hurried to the door, her heart pounding. One glance over her shoulder told her Roman hadn’t moved.
“I’m keeping the baby,” she said hoarsely. “Just leave me alone.”
“This is a mistake, Penny,” Roman warned. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“I know exactly what I want, Roman. And if you ever try to interfere in my life or the baby’s, you will be sorry.”
TRANSCRIPT
Defense: What would you say your relationship with Penny Sands was over the last year?
Anne Wilkes: At first, it was professional. She babysat for us. Actually, she was referred to us by Roman and Eliza Tate. I now realize the irony of that.
Defense: You said at first it was professional. What about after that?
Anne Wilkes: We became friends. It was a natural sort of thing. I’d come home and chat with Penny for a bit. Once or twice, we had a drink together or took the kids to the park.
Defense: What sorts of things would you discuss?
Anne Wilkes: Whatever friends talk about. Where we came from, where we’re going. Who we love, who we hate. You know the drill.
Defense: Was there anyone Ms. Sands mentioned hating?
Anne Wilkes: I don’t think Penny is capable of hate. She’s a nice young woman.
Defense: So you didn’t notice anything strange about Ms. Sands?
Anne Wilkes: You’re talking about her little hobby, aren’t you? Yes, I know about it. That doesn’t mean Penny is a bad person. She’s just flawed like the rest of us.
Defense: Please clarify for the court what you mean about Ms. Sands’s little hobby.
Anne Wilkes: She collects things. Little trinkets.
Defense: By collects, do you mean steal?
Anne Wilkes: Sure.
Defense: Did she tell you this?
Anne Wilkes: Of course not. She took things from me, too. It seemed like some sort of odd compulsion. But it never hurt anyone. It wasn’t anything important.
Defense: How did you discover this compulsion of Ms. Sands’s?
Anne Wilkes: I found a photo that belonged to me in her apartment. She’d obviously taken it without asking. And then there were the things she’d taken from Eliza…
Defense: What had she taken from Mrs. Tate?
Anne Wilkes: A serving set I’d given Eliza for her wedding. There was a knife, a little spoon.
Defense: This knife—it had Mr. and Mrs. Tate’s initials engraved on it?
Anne Wilkes: Yes. And their anniversary date.
Defense: Did you confront Ms. Sands when you found it?
Anne Wilkes: No. I didn’t really think twice about it, to be completely honest. I happened to see it when I was moving a bunch of baby things into her apartment. We were reorganizing, and I shuffled some things around.
Defense: You didn’t think it was odd?
Anne Wilkes: I just didn’t connect the dots. The picture I chalked up to an accident. Maybe a copy had gotten tucked in a book I’d loaned her or something. As for the utensils, I assumed…I don’t know, that she’d borrowed them from Eliza for a special dinner or something. We were all friends; we did things like that.
Defense: Did she ever return the knife to Mrs. Tate?
Anne Wilkes: I don’t know.
Defense: I don’t think she did, Mrs. Wilkes. Do you know how I know?
Anne Wilkes: No clue.
Defense: Because that’s the very knife that killed Roman Tate. Mrs. Tate’s fingerprints might’ve been on the weapon, but the knife was in Ms. Sands’s possession. Now tell me, do you still think it’s a harmless little hobby, Mrs. Wilkes?
TWENTY-SIX
Two Months Before
December 2018
Call if you need anything.” Anne faced her husband on a clear Saturday morning as she finished detailing her keep-the-kids-alive instructions. “The twins are fed. Gretchen is planning to make a list of presents she wants for her birthday, so I left supplies on the counter. Samuel needs to be read to for half an hour before he gets screen time.”
“I’ve got it under control,” Mark said with a smile that stopped Anne in her tracks. “Go on. Have a good time with your friends.”
Anne stood stock-still while her husband leaned forward and pecked a sweet kiss on her forehead. She could only give him a baffled look as she wrapped her cardigan tighter around her body and spun off toward the car.
As she drove toward Hollywood, Anne let her brain wander over the uneventfulness of the past few months. She had delivered a check to Roman for the full amount he’d requested the night she’d met him at his studio. The night she’d run into Penny. Anne had wondered if Penny would mention the event to Eliza, but thankfully, it didn’t seem to have come up. Thank God for small miracles.
Thank God for big miracles, too. It hadn’t been easy, but Anne had managed to get Roman his money, thanks to a career before children and an unattended 401k. In another lifetime, Anne had held a full-time job for almost a decade. She’d spent that time funneling money into her retirement account, and thanks to a h
ealthy employer match program and impressive growth due to a booming stock market, she’d had enough money to cover Roman’s demands.
There’d been a steep penalty to withdraw the money from her retirement account, but Anne wasn’t going to split hairs over tax laws. She’d made a few phone calls when Mark had been at work to secure the money, funneling it into a new bank account that her husband knew nothing about. She’d proceeded to write Roman a big, fat check that he’d promptly cashed. As far as Anne knew, they were even.
But what was to stop Roman from turning Mark in to the police now, short of more money? Surely the fifty grand she’d paid him wasn’t enough to support Roman Tate’s fast and furious lifestyle for very long.
Anne stopped on a side street that, even in Hollywood, was too unfavorable to require metered parking. Climbing out, she made her way to the trunk where she had two laundry baskets full of the kids’ old stuff. She paused there, one basket in her arm, glancing toward the apartment complex. She wondered sadly if this was as good as it would get for Penny.
Striding through the doorway, Anne washed the thought away and scoped out the entrance for a dial-in panel. It took a good few minutes before Anne realized there was no code…or security features whatsoever. The door was unlocked.
Anne hesitated in the lobby, but it was only a second before Penny’s head popped over the second-floor railing. Her face lit into a smile.
“Come on up,” Penny called, shuffling her rapidly expanding frame to the top of the stairs. “Better yet, I’ll come down.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you lift a finger.” Anne shook her head at Penny. “I’m here to help. With how much you’ve helped me out these last few months with the kids, it’s the least I could do.”
Anne began to climb, her shoes making loud, echoing noises. The steps hadn’t been swept in what appeared to be months, and several of the boards were creaky and lopsided. The whole apartment had a slightly unsanitary feel, and Anne couldn’t help but think it was no place for a young woman to live alone, let alone with a baby. Anne had the guilty thought that she should have paid Penny a higher hourly wage.
