At This Moment

by Karen Cimms

  When she came out, Billy was sitting on the bed.

  “You think you’re pretty funny, don’t you?”

  “Me? I think I’m hilarious.”

  As she stormed past him, Billy grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into his lap, locking his arms around her. She sat stiffly, staring straight ahead, her jaw tight, not willing to look at him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said finally, pressing his forehead into her shoulder. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have talked you into this, and I shouldn’t have agreed to keep you a secret.”

  “Are you saying that because you didn’t like Bailey hitting on me or the other guys looking at me?”

  “I didn’t like any of it. I also didn’t like you having to walk in without me and leave without me, even with Joey—who hates me, by the way.”

  “He doesn’t hate you.”

  He snorted. “I’ll call Christa tomorrow. Tell her we’re not doing this.”

  “The video?”

  “No. That we have to do. But I’m not making believe we’re not a couple. I don’t see the need for it. I’m not in this for the women. I’m a musician, not a gigolo.”

  “You don’t want to be both?”

  He shook his head.

  “Aww,” she purred. “Too bad.”

  He looked up, surprised. “What does that mean?”

  “You’ll see.”

  By the next morning, Kate had convinced Billy to go along with Christa, insisting she should know what’s best for his career. He reluctantly agreed. So just like they’d done earlier, they arrived at rehearsal Thursday like two strangers. Billy dropped Kate off a block away and insisted on waiting until she turned into the soundstage parking lot. Then because his rehearsal didn’t start for another two hours, he hung out at a bar around the corner.

  Kate had just changed into a leotard and was slipping into the high heels she’d be wearing to rehearse when she heard the director shout something across the set.

  “Yeah, you. Shorty,” he called when she looked up. “C’mere.” Tiffany was standing beside him, her arms folded, legs a mile long, glaring in Kate’s direction.

  She threw a quick glance over her shoulder, and seeing no one there, assumed that she must be “Shorty.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Change of plans. You’re the lead dancer now.”

  Nausea gave way to full-blown panic. “That can’t be right. I . . . um . . .” Um what, Kate? Excuse me, sir. I’m only here because my secret boyfriend is in the band.

  “Um nothing,” the director finished for her. “Bailey’s too freakin’ short. Next to them, he looks like a mutant.” He aimed a thumb at Legs 1 and 2. “You’re up, Shorty.”

  “I’m five six,” Kate said in a squeaky voice, as if it would make a difference.

  “Perfect,” he said as he led her over to the choreographer.

  The dance moves amounted to little more than wiggling her hips, draping herself all over Bailey, and tossing her head an obscene number of times. The worst part—worse than having to run her hands over Bailey’s coarse, black chest hair—was the trapeze. Instead of just standing on one of the two swings like she’d originally been told, she would be in the spotlight with Bailey. Tiffany would now join Crystal in the back, which explained the evil stares aimed in her direction. She would’ve traded with either of them in a heartbeat, especially after seeing the look on Billy’s face when he walked in the door, just as she leaned back in Bailey’s arms and he buried his face in her neck.

  On the plus side, if there was one, it turned out they would be swinging over a make-believe fire. The real fire would be filmed separately and spliced into the final footage. The most dangerous thing she had to do was hook her legs on the trapeze bar, lean back, and reach for Bailey while swinging.

  As the night wore on, Bailey bounced between practicing with the band and practicing with Kate. It wasn’t going well. She was having a hard time letting go of the ropes, and the director, whom she now thought of as Hitler, kept yelling at her.

  “One more time,” he called. Kate settled onto the swing. The band gathered around to watch.

  Great. She wanted to throw up. Billy stood with his arms folded, looking nervous. From the corner of her eye, she spied Crystal and Tiffany making their way toward him. Just great. She hadn’t told him of their plans. Maybe it was wrong, but she wanted to know she could trust him. She could still hear Tiffany’s claim that “guys like that” couldn’t resist a threesome, and she needed to know that he could.

  “C’mon, love,” Bailey said, pulling back her focus. “You can do it.”

  Fueled by anger and adrenaline, Kate gripped the thick ropes and pumped her legs, building up speed. On the director’s command, she let go. Leaning back gracefully, she made the connection, grazing Bailey’s hands with her own.

  “Finally!” Hitler yelled. “Take five!”

  Billy flashed her a wink and joined the rest of the crew in applauding. The only people not celebrating were Crystal and Tiffany, whose efforts at seducing Billy had been waylaid by Kate’s brief brush with success.

  If nothing else, they were determined. Kate remained on her perch and watched as Tiffany ran her fingers down Billy’s arm. She could only imagine what the Amazonian slut might be saying.

  Kate was torn between not letting Billy catch her watching and shooting daggers at him so he’d know she was on to them. But when she caught his eye a short time later, he winked. She responded by batting her eyes.

  Rehearsal had run late, thanks to her. She was gathering her things and preparing to walk to the subway when Bailey came over and asked if she’d like to go for a drink, to “see where the night takes them.”

  She gave him a stiff smile. “I’m sorry, I’m not old enough to drink.” He looked surprised. “Plus I’m in a pretty serious relationship.”

  “Oh.” His obvious disappointment gave her ego the boost it needed. “No harm done.”

  “Absolutely not, but thank you. I’m flattered.”

  Billy observed their encounter from across the room as he rolled his guitar cord in a loop around his elbow and his thumb. What he really wanted, was to wrap the cord around the Limey’s neck.

  “Strike out?” he asked as Bailey approached.

  Bailey looked at Kate wistfully. “Afraid so. Says she’s in a serious relationship.”

  Billy smiled. “That so?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Lucky guy,” he said, his smile spreading into a grin.

  Bailey nodded.

  Billy hurried to pack the rest of his things, finishing as Kate slipped into her coat. She was heading toward the door, chatting with one of the director’s assistants, when he called to her from across the soundstage.

  “Katie!”

  She looked up.

  “Hang on.”

  He hoisted his bag and guitar case, then jogged toward her. He took her bag and slipped it over his shoulder, then cupped her stunned face with both hands and kissed her.

  “C’mon, babe,” he said, draping his arm around her neck and dropping another kiss on top of her head. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It didn’t take long for the news to reach Christa.

  “I hope you understand you blew it.” Her voice screeched across the long-distance connection. “Bailey’s pissed. Apparently he had a thing for your little girlfriend. He thinks the two of you made him look like a fool.”

  “That was your idea, not mine.”

  “It was my idea to keep it quiet, not to broadcast it two seconds after he hit on her. Jesus, Billy. He wanted you off the video, but Davy smoothed it over. He’s not too happy either, by the way.”

  “Why? He have designs on Kate, too?” Billy gripped the phone in one hand while he squeezed the other into a fist.

  “You pissed off his star, sweetheart. You’re lucky I know how to wr
ite a contract, or you’d be back playing dive bars tout suite. When this video comes out, no one will know your name. If you’re happy playing in the background, I can get you all the two-bit gigs you want. You know what? Strike that. I deal in the big time, babe. So if you want to be front and center, then you better start listening to me. Otherwise, you can handle your own career, and see how far you go.”

  He was still worked up a few hours later. Kate wasn’t home yet, and he had to be out on Long Island by six thirty. If they hit traffic, it could take them well over an hour.

  Although he was relieved when he heard her key in the lock, he still nearly erupted when he saw her.

  “Do you know what time it is?”

  Her face blank, she shook her head.

  “It’s almost five. I told you this morning I wanted to leave by four thirty. Where’s your watch?”

  She dropped her purse on the kitchen table, along with the paper sacks of groceries she’d been carrying. “I think it’s on the dresser.”

  “Jesus, Kate.” He stormed into the bedroom and returned with the watch. “Are you ready to go?”

  “I just need to eat something.” She began putting the perishables away.

  “There’s no time. You know what traffic’s gonna be like on a Friday.”

  “I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

  “We’ll eat later. I can’t eat before playing, anyway. Just go.” He turned her in the direction of the bathroom. “Five minutes.”

  While Kate did whatever it was she needed to do, he carried his guitars to the van. She was still in the bathroom when he returned.

  He rapped on the door. “What’re you doing?” It was wrong for him to take his anger out on her, but he couldn’t stop himself. Besides, she knew he hated to be late.

  “I’ll be right out.” Her voice was strained. “Could you please make me a sandwich? I’ll eat it in the car.”

  “Christ,” he yelled. “Hurry up!”

  He stalked into the kitchen, where he began slamming cabinets and drawers. Why shouldn’t he take it out on her? If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be in this position. If he hadn’t fucking fallen in love, he wouldn’t be jeopardizing everything he had worked for. He opened the packet of lunch meat she’d bought and nearly gagged. Liverwurst. He hated liver. He’d be damned if he was going to smell that all the way to Massapequa. He threw the packet in the fridge and grabbed a banana off the counter.

  “Kate!” he yelled. “Now!”

  Kate had come to believe that if anything could destroy their relationship, it would be Billy’s obsession with being early.

  If it were only that simple.

  They made it to the club just before six thirty, even with stopping to pick up Joey in Brooklyn. They were still on time—but since they weren’t the first to arrive, in his mind that made them late.

  Billy had been silent the entire trip, which was usually the case when Joey was around. On the other hand, she had been quiet as well, but Joey had jabbered nonstop about the phone call from Davy Steinman asking him to do hair and makeup for the video. Steinman had been so impressed with what Joey had been able to pull off the night of the promotional event, he fired the other crew and gave Joey the job. He was already lining Joey up for some of his other projects as well.

  They had barely claimed their seats at a table near the stage when Joey turned on her.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, swiping at a curl that had dropped into his eye. “You didn’t say two words the entire trip. I expect that from Mr. Personality, but not from you.”

  Billy was still hauling in amps and instruments, so now was as good a time as any. Here goes nothing. She slid her chair close enough that they were almost touching, then she leaned forward and whispered in his ear.

  “What?”

  “Lower your voice,” she whispered urgently.

  “How long?”

  “Eight or nine weeks.”

  Joey looked toward Billy, who was joking around with Denny.

  “He’s taking it well.”

  She looked up cautiously. Afraid to speak, she could only nod.

  Joey’s eyes widened. “He doesn’t know?”

  “No. I just found out. Then when I got home, he was barking at me because we were gonna be late. And then I threw up.”

  He let out a long stream of air. “Guess that explains all the vomiting.”

  “Ya think?”

  “Weren’t you on some kind of birth control?”

  She shook her head. When he opened his mouth, she cut him off. “Don’t start. I was, and then . . .” She pressed her fist against her mouth as hot tears blurred her vision. “I screwed up. I don’t know what to do. He’s gonna kill me.”

  Joey gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. It was rare to see him look so serious. “He lays one hand on you, I’ll kill him with my bare hands.”

  “Thanks, but he’d swat you away like a fly.”

  “Still.”

  “He won’t hurt me. Not physically. But he’s not going to be okay with this.”

  Joey turned in his seat and watched Billy. She was actually afraid he might jump up and go after him. When he turned back to face her, he seemed calmer, more resigned.

  “You gonna keep it?”

  “Of course!” She placed a protective hand over her belly. Clearly, not everyone was cut out to be a mother—this she knew first-hand. But to not want a baby created with someone she loved? She couldn’t even imagine.

  “I’m glad, but you know there’re options.”

  “Not for me.”

  Joey pulled her in for a hug. “You know Uncle Joey’s here for you.”

  The tears fell harder.

  “Stop. You’re gonna look like a drag queen on prom night.” He grabbed a paper napkin from the dispenser on the table and handed it to her. “When are you gonna tell him?”

  “I don’t know. He’s been in a terrible mood. I’ll probably wait until after the video.”

  He was about to respond but stopped and squeezed her arm. When she looked up, she saw Billy walking toward them.

  “Hey,” he said, spinning a chair around and straddling it. “The kitchen won’t be open for another hour, but I asked, and they could make you a burger or something. That okay?” He gave Joey a less than friendly look. “You too.”

  “Aren’t you a doll?” Joey exclaimed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Billy scowled, then turned back to Kate. “I’m sorry.”

  She tried to smile. “A burger would be great.”

  “You feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I forgot to ask you. What did the doctor say?”

  She dropped her eyes and focused on the serpent hanging from a thick silver chain around his neck. “The infection’s gone.”

  “That’s good. What about the nausea? Were you throwing up again?”

  “That should stop soon.”

  “She say what’s causing it?”

  Her eyes widening, she shot a quick glance at Joey. “I, um, need to eat on a regular basis. Smaller meals. I’ve been skipping meals. That could make it worse.”

  “You should do that then.”

  “I know.”

  Billy nodded as he stood. “We okay?”

  Kate smiled and blinked back tears, glad that the large room was so dimly lit. “Uh-huh.”

  “Good.” He squeezed her shoulder, then bent to kiss her.

  “Kate, don’t,” Joey begged after Billy had walked away, but it was no use. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed into the paper napkin.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Kate nibbled on a saltine as she watched two fat squirrels chase each other across the sidewalk. She reached into her pocket for another cracker, broke it in half, and tossed the pieces on the ground. The squirrels scampered forward, each snatching a half.

  She’d spent a good part of the afternoon huddled on a bench near the hotel where she and Billy
were staying during the video shoot, rehearsing scenarios in her head of how to tell him she was pregnant. She would have preferred a grand gesture: having him unwrap a pair of booties or finding a rattle hiding in the pocket of his guitar case. She imagined those methods probably worked better when a couple had been together longer than three months and had at least had a conversation about becoming a family.

  No, stashing a pacifier in with his guitar picks probably wouldn’t go over well at this stage of the game. She’d just have to be honest and straightforward.

  Billy was filming the music portion of the video on location in Manhattan. Tonight they’d be shooting in the studio and then wrapping up tomorrow. Depending what time they got home, she would make him a nice dinner—maybe meat loaf—and then she’d tell him.

  And if not tomorrow, then definitely the next night.

  She brushed bread crumbs from her lap and stood. At least she had a plan. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best she could come up with.

  Kate unlocked the door to their room to find Billy standing at the window, staring out over the street. He didn’t turn when she opened the door, even though he must have seen her walking up the block.

  “Where’ve you been?” he asked, his voice unusually flat.

  Slipping off her coat, she tossed it onto the bed. “I took a walk, then I went to the park. I didn’t expect you back so early.”

  He didn’t answer; he just stood there, staring. Had something gone wrong during filming? If it had, it couldn’t have been his fault. He’d been brilliant during rehearsal, like always. His reflection in the glass offered no clue to what he was thinking.

  “I’ll get ready now. I just want to brush my teeth and throw some things in my bag.”

  When she entered the bathroom, she was surprised to see the contents of her cosmetics case had been dumped into the sink. She anxiously swirled her hand through the mess, then snatched the bag from the floor. It was empty. She spun around to find Billy standing in the doorway.

  “Looking for these?” He held up her bottle of prenatal vitamins.