by Lili Valente
I arch a brow. “Good thing I’m not in the entertainment business, then.”
“But you will be. If you have a baby with Zack,” he says, making me feel exposed. Zack mentioned that he’d spoken to his manager about our plan to try to get pregnant. It hadn’t bothered me at the time, but that was before I’d met Chip.
This sleaze isn’t the type of person I want knowing anything about my personal life, let alone one of the most intimate parts of it. I don’t discuss my sex life with anyone but my closest girlfriends.
“Especially if you two get knocked up outside of any kind of official relationship,” Chip continues, unfazed by the fact I haven’t responded to his previous comment or offered any encouragement to continue down this conversational avenue. “God knows, you don’t have to be married in this day and age, but the expectation is at least ‘boyfriend and girlfriend.’ Two people who barely know each other deciding to have a baby without any romantic involvement is just…kind of weird, you know?” He laughs. “I mean, no offense, I’m weird, too, so I get it, but most people won’t.”
I chew the inside of my bottom lip as I zest the lime, wanting to defend myself and my decision but unable to find the words.
Probably because a part of me agrees with this jerk.
It is kind of weird to try for a baby with someone you barely know, and I freely admit I’ve been baby crazy and not thinking rationally for the past year. Chip is an ass who’s overstepping his boundaries, but…he might also be right.
“I’m guessing most fans, especially our straitlaced, family-focused demographic, will think it’s scandalous. And a little irresponsible.” He sucks a breath through his bared teeth as he scoots his water bottle along the countertop with one finger. “Or a lot irresponsible. Those folks still believe a baby should be born within the confines of a relationship with a plan to raise the child together. Obviously, plans go to shit all the time, and people end up divorced and raising kids in broken homes, but they don’t start out broken. That’s the big difference here, and why I think most of Zack’s fans are going to decide you’re nothing but a… Well, I hate to say it, but a gold-digging piece of shit.”
My jaw drops, but before I can speak, Chip lifts his hands, his meaty fingers spread wide as if warding off unjust indignation. “Not that I would ever think that! Please, don’t take this personally, doll. It’s not personal, not a single bit of it. I’m here on business.” He winces, and his hands fall back to the marble counter. “Unfortunately for us, when you’re a high-profile entertainer like Zack, the lines between your business life and your personal life can get real blurry real quick. And unfortunately for you, our society is still far more critical of rule-breaking women than it is of rule-breaking men. Zack could probably get away with being a shitty baby daddy without a serious blow to his reputation.” He snorts. “Hell, considering the sweet golden boy thing he’s got going on right now, the news that he knocked a woman up and walked away from the relationship would probably be good for him. Give him an edge.”
Chip sighs as he leans closer. “But you and I both know that Zack is as sweet as you are. It would kill him to see you getting ripped apart in the press. He’d hate it for you, and he’d hate it for his son or daughter. Most of all, he’ll hate that he won’t be able to protect either of you from it.” He pulls a face, doing a decent impression of looking upset. “The children of celebrities aren’t off-limits to the press anymore. They haven’t been for a long time. It’s a hard world for all of us, no doubt, but for those kids, it’s fucking brutal.”
He shakes his head. “I mean, I can’t even imagine. Can you? Not being able to leave your house without people waiting outside to take your picture? Paparazzi stalking you at school, taking pictures through the chain-link fence around the playground? And in that kind of situation, the best you can hope for is that Zack’s career will crash and burn so your life can return to normal, but…” His forehead wrinkles. “Well, that’s not a position you want to be in, is it? Actively wishing bad things for someone you care about. You do care about him, correct? I’m not getting that part wrong?”
I set the zesting knife down by the cutting board with a shaking hand and brace my palms against the counter on either side. “Yes, I do care about him. Very much.”
“I thought so.” Chip reaches over, grabbing a sprig of dill from the bunch and lifting it to his nose. “Some people think I’m a sociopath, but I’m a good judge of character. And people and their feelings.”
“I’m not sure that rules you out as a sociopath.” I sound remarkably calm, considering how my heart is slamming against my ribs “From what I understand, sociopaths can be good at reading feelings, they’re just not good at feeling things themselves. Especially empathy.”
He grins and chomps the tender green leaves off the top of the sprig of dill. “Pretty, sweet, and smart. You really are the whole package, Colette. Someday soon, someone is going to snatch you up and make all your baby dreams come true. You don’t need to settle for a guy who isn’t going to be around to help with the kid. Take that beautiful face of yours out on the town. You’ll find someone to put a bun in your oven in no time.”
He laughs as he tosses the dill sprig back into my pile, contaminating it with his Chip germs. “Hell, I’d offer to do the job for you, but I have a feeling you think you’re too good for a guy like me.” His smile goes rotten in the middle and nasty at the edges, making my skin go cold. “Isn’t that right, beautiful? Only the pick of the litter gets naked with you, isn’t that right?”
My chest locks up, and my stomach fills with churning acid. A part of me wants to push past Chip and run to the studio, to Zack and the safety of his arms, where nothing nasty can touch me.
But the rest of me knows it’s too late.
Chip is an asshole and a bully, but he’s clever. Everything he said was true, and he’s right—I can’t imagine what it would be like to raise a child in the harsh glare of the public eye. Growing up is hard enough without all that added pressure, and I’m ill-equipped to deal with the price of fame. I would be having a rock star’s baby without the access to a rock star’s money or connections. I can’t afford a high-tech security system or private school or dozens of other unforeseen things I would need to be able to protect my baby from people who refuse to respect the sanctity of childhood.
Which means…I can’t have a baby with Zack.
I can’t have a relationship with Zack.
I can’t even be friends with Zack.
I’m already too far gone. I’m in love with him. Desperately in love. It would rip me apart to pretend to be his buddy when all I want to do is run away to a deserted island with him and live on his kisses for the rest of my life.
But we can’t do that, either. If we run away, Zack’s career is over, and I can’t bear to be the woman who took him away from the world or the music he loves.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I have the kitchen phone in hand and I’m calling Nancy, asking for a ride into town. Earlier today, I spotted a small hunting lodge with rooms for rent near the hardware store. They had vacancies this afternoon, so hopefully a room will still be available for me tonight.
And then tomorrow, I can figure out a way to get home.
Maybe Theo can get me a day early. Maybe there’s a bus station in town where I can catch a ride to a city big enough to have a train to Portland, where half a dozen of my girlfriends will be in easy pick-me-up range. I’ll figure something out. I have to because I can’t stay here a second longer than necessary.
“Thank you so much,” I say to Nancy, my voice thin. “I’ll be out front with my suitcase in five minutes.”
“Of course.” Nancy hesitates a beat before she adds, “I’m sorry to see you go, Colette. We’ve enjoyed your smile. You and Zack both have great energy. Jed and I were just talking about it this afternoon.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry, too, but it’s for the best. Zack needs to concentrate on work, and I need to get back to real life
. But I’ll always remember this place fondly.”
“Ghosts and all?” Nancy teases.
“Ghosts and all,” I confirm as, a fresh wave of sadness sweeps through me. The phantom footsteps in the hall when Zack and I were both already in bed have been a little creepy, yes, but they were part of what made this experience so unique. And without the spook factor, I might not have ended up in Zack’s bed every night, and I loved spending the night in his bed.
It hurts to know I’ll never fall asleep in the circle of his arms again.
Never wake to his smile.
Never check my temperature with his hand on my hip beneath the covers, both of us hoping it’s time to start rolling the dice for a baby for real.
By the time I hang up the phone, I’m almost in tears, but I refuse to let Chip see them. Keeping my chin tucked to my chest, I mumble, “I’m going to go pack. Would you mind putting the vegetables away?”
“Of course, honey,” he says, all sweetness and concern as if he didn’t just harass me and then attempt to shame me for not being interested in his creepy offer. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right choice. And a brave one. I’ll explain everything to Zack. Don’t worry about that at all.”
“No, I’ll explain it to Zack. I’ll call him once I’m settled in at the hotel.” Chip starts to protest, but I cut him off firmly. “I won’t tell him about our talk, but I will explain my decision. He deserves that.”
After a moment, Chip nods. “All right. Do what feels right. Just make sure you’ve got your mind made up before you call. I’m sure Zack will ask you to come back. He’s not thinking with his head right now.” He smirks. “At least not the big one.”
Without bothering to respond to that, I turn on my heel and head for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I’m suddenly desperate to be gone. I can’t stand another moment alone with Chip, and if Zack comes back before I’m gone, there’s a chance I’ll break down and confess everything he said.
And then, if I know Zack, he’ll fire Chip, throwing his career into chaos right before he’s set to launch as a solo artist. As much as I dislike Chip, from everything Zack’s said, he’s necessary to the process.
Upstairs in my room, I throw clothes into my suitcase, not bothering to separate the dirty from the clean. Who cares if I wear a dirty dress home tomorrow? I’m sure I’ll be crying the entire trip anyway. Might as well be wrinkled and smelly and give people a good excuse to stay away from the crazy lady with the puffy red eyes.
Back on the ground floor a few minutes later, I find Chip in a wing-backed chair in the living room with a tumbler full of ice and brown liquid. Behind him, I can make out enough of the kitchen to see that he didn’t bother putting the vegetables away and that my dinner-prep mess is still all over the counter.
Fighting a wave of unreasonably hot rage, I force out through gritted teeth, “Clean up the kitchen. If you don’t, Zack will realize I was upset when I left. He knows I’d never leave a mess like that behind for someone else to clean up.”
Chip’s lips pucker, and irritation flashes behind his eyes. Before he can speak, I add, “Or I can stay and take care of it, but Zack might come back in before I’m finished and—”
“Go,” Chip says. “I’ll clean up. No worries at all.”
I nod, tightening my grip on my suitcase handle. “I’d say it was nice to meet you, but…” My breath rushes out through my chilled lips. “Be good to Zack. Do everything in your power to help him achieve his goals. If you don’t, I’ll tell him what you said to me tonight, and you’ll be out of a job.”
Chip arches an amused brow. “You think he’d believe you?”
“I know he would.” I haven’t a shred of doubt. I am positive that Zack is the good man I’ve come to know and love.
That certainty gives me comfort as I head out the front door and climb into Jed’s ancient hybrid sedan. Zack will be hurt that I left like this. He might even be sad for a while, but he’ll bounce back and find someone perfect for him. He’s an incredible guy, the whole package, and it’s only a matter of time before he meets a woman who will appreciate everything he has to offer.
Hell, it might not even be that long. If he starts actively looking for her like we talked about today, he’ll probably be sliding a ring on Mrs. Right’s finger before the year is out.
“You sure we can’t convince you to stay one more night?” Jed asks, sliding back into the driver’s seat beside me after loading my suitcase into the trunk.
I force a smile and shake my head. “I need to go. You know how it is. Sometimes you just…can’t wait.”
He nods, a little sadly. “I do. But for what it’s worth, I think you two are going to make it. Like I said, I have a sixth sense about things like this.” He shifts into drive and starts down the driveway toward the main road. “Don’t lose hope.”
I nod and swallow hard, not wanting to tell Jed that it’s too late for hope.
Instead, I shift in my seat to stare out through the back window, watching the big house grow smaller and then disappear behind the trees at the bend in the drive, silently saying goodbye to the best man I’ve ever met.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zack
I sense that something’s wrong the moment I step into the house.
There are no cooking smells, no music trickling from the record player, and no Colette in the kitchen sipping wine while she finishes the dinner prep. There’s no sign of Chip, either, but I’m not nearly as eager to see him.
He’s going to hate the song I just wrote.
Really fucking hate it.
But he’ll have to get behind it anyway. It’s just that good. If “Gatekeeper (aka Mircropenis)” isn’t a hit, I’ll eat a box of guitar picks.
“Colette?” I call softly, not wanting Chip to realize that I’m back from the studio until I talk to Colette first. I want to warn her about the impending explosion before Chip listens to the rough cut of the song I just sent to his Dropbox.
But I’m answered only by silence and a faint creaking from overhead, making me think Chip must be up in one of the empty bedrooms working. Colette might be up in our room, too, but I don’t want to risk climbing the stairs and alerting Chip to my presence.
Instead, I grab my cell from the kitchen counter, intending to text Colette, to find I have an unread message.
A long one.
From her…
I had to go. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye, but I figured that would be awkward with Chip here. I’ve had a wonderful time, and I care about you so much, Zack, but the more I think about it, the more it seems dangerously foolish to keep heading down this path. It isn’t fair to you or me, and it would be especially hard on a child born into this strange situation.
We can talk more when you get back to town if you want, but for now, you should concentrate on your music.
You have such an amazing gift. I can’t wait to hear what you come up with next. I believe in you so much, and I know you’re going to make a record that blows everyone away.
I wish you all the success and happiness in the world, and I’ll never forget this trip. These have been some of the best days…ever.
Love, Me.
My first thought is that I love that she signed her text like a letter.
The second is that I love her, too, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go without a fight.
I jog for the front door, only to nearly run headlong into Chip, who’s standing in the semi-darkness by the base of the stairs, quiet and creepy as hell.
“Shit, Chip,” I say, my breath rushing out. “Where did you come from?”
“I heard something upstairs,” he says in a hushed voice. “On the fourth floor, I think. Is someone else staying in the house?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s…” I hesitate but decide honesty is the best policy, even if I’m sure Chip won’t believe me. “Colette and I have both heard things, too. Apparently, they have friendly g
hosts in residence. That’s what the caretakers told us, anyway.”
As expected, Chip gives a derisive snort. “Yeah, well, the caretakers are to going to be pretty fucking surprised when they realize they’ve got squatters in their attic.” His gaze lifts to the ceiling, his eyes narrowing. “No, you know what? I bet they know exactly who’s up there. They’ve probably got a relative living in the attic rent-free while they charge guests for the entire house. Have you been up to the top?”
“We took a peek earlier this week, but there wasn’t anything there but boxes of Christmas decorations and some old toys. If someone’s living up there, they’re doing it without disturbing the dust.”
“You’d be surprised how some people can live,” Chip says, his lip curling. “Like that movie, the one with the guy who was hiding in the bomb shelter under that family’s house. He was right there, living right under their noses, sneaking out to eat their food at night, ballsy as hell. People like that will do whatever it takes to get a free ride. Just goes to show how careful we all need to be with security right now.”
I’m not sure that was the moral of that particular movie, but I have more important things to do than debate the politics of income inequality with Chip. “Colette is gone. You have any idea why?”
An innocent expression flickers across Chip’s face, but it doesn’t fully take hold, and his gaze remains fixed on the ceiling. “No clue. I’ve been answering my emails. Though, now that you mention it, I might have heard the front door closing, but I was so focused on the noise upstairs I didn’t—” He breaks off with a sharp inhalation and continues in a whisper, “There. Did you hear that? Footsteps. Heavy ones. Ballsy as fuck.”
I hold my breath, listening with half an ear. “No, I don’t hear anything,” I say after only a few seconds, needing the truth from Chip. He’s not wiggling out of this one without giving me a straight answer. “Are you sure you don’t have any idea what’s going on with Colette? Did you talk to her when you came back inside?”
