by S. E. Law
“Holy shit, yeah that’s her! How did you find her?”
He shoots me a look.
“By googling the words ‘Brynn,’ and ‘wildlife photographer.’ It wasn’t very hard. I guess there aren’t many wildlife photographers with her name,” he says sarcastically. I ignore his tone of voice. Then, he starts reading from his phone. “Brynn Hale,” he intones. “She’s twenty-five years old, lives in Miami and does photography. Oh wait, she’s actually a pretty famous photographer. Carol Kersch likes her work.”
I’m just barely listening. Now that I know who she is, and where she is, I just need to talk to her. I need to tell her what’s on my mind, and convince her to take me back. Piece of cake.
“Who’s Clare what’s-her-face?” I ask, after a second.
Randy looks up. I think his face is going to freeze permanently in a look of a disgust.
“She’s an art critic, idiot, and really hard to impress. Maybe this girl isn’t so bad for you after all because she’s not a complete nobody,” he says, studying Brynn’s photo. “She’s attractive, but in a real way. Not overboard, and no obvious plastic surgery as far as I can tell. We can definitely use this.”
I glare at him.
“No, absolutely not.”
He glances at me. “Why not?”
I exhale.
“She’s not one of your floozies, Randy. Listen to me: do not send anything to the media. Brynn already hates me, and if she sees her name plastered all over the internet, she’s going to hate me even more. She wants her privacy.”
Randy merely shrugs, still reading his phone.
“If she wanted her privacy, she wouldn’t be publishing a book, would she? She may thank you for the publicity. In fact, I bet that’s the reason why she did all this. Can you imagine the media attention she’ll get if she dates you? She’ll sell millions of copies. Again, we can use this.”
“Randy, I swear…” I say through gritted teeth.
He sighs and puts his phone done.
“Fine, fine. What are you getting to eat?”
I look around for the waitress, a desperate plan forming in my head.
“Actually, I have to go. Can you get the plane for me?”
Randy drops his silverware.
“The plane? What the fuck do you need that for? You haven’t been in LA more than a few weeks!”
The waitress sashays over at that moment and leans on the table, showing off her perfectly plastic D cups.
“Mr. Masters, can I help you?”
“Just the check, thanks,” I manage, still gritting my teeth.
She looks surprised but walks off to get the check. Meanwhile, I stand and toss a one-hundred-dollar bill on the table.
“Order whatever you want Rand, and get the plane while you’re at it. I’m heading to the hangar now.”
My agent watches me, and I can tell he wants to argue some more, but he holds it in. Good. Reluctantly, he picks up his phone.
“I’m texting Gary now. Your plane is ordered, your highness.”
I’m too busy to comment on his sarcasm because I don’t care. There’s a woman waiting for me, and I have to find her.
8
Brynn
“Brynn, I’m at the store. Do you think yellow is a good neutral color for a baby?”
I sigh into the phone and smile.
“Ma, stop buying clothes! You’ve already clothed my baby for the next two years. I’m running out of storage space.”
“Oh, it’s okay honey! Just one more item for my new grandchild.”
I can just picture my mom in a high-end baby boutique, holding clothes and gossiping into the phone in her Cuban accent.
“No Ma, if you want to help, please buy diapers.”
“Brynn, your father is hoarding all the diapers in the city. You don’t have to worry about that,” my mom scolds.
I hold the phone to my ear with my shoulder and finish smearing cream cheese on my bagel. Now that I’m about two months into my pregnancy, I can’t stop eating and devour everything in sight.
“Then buy me maternity clothes, extra-large, Ma. I’m ballooning,” I say with a wry smile. My mom merely coos.
“No, my love. You are beautiful. You are growing my grandchild. Eat. Eat!” I take a bite of my bagel to oblige. “I look forward to meeting my new little manzana!” she sings. “I love you! Bye now!”
Ana hangs up and I drop the phone on my kitchen table, shaking my head. I’m lucky that my parents are supportive about my pregnancy. At first, my dad was disapproving, but he’s pretty much come around. Ana, on the other hand, is over the moon at the prospect of becoming a grandmother. She was talking so excitedly in Spanish when I told her about my pregnancy that I had to ask her to slow down.
But yes, Ana and Ronald have offered to support me in any way I need and are both looking forward to becoming grandparents now. Suddenly, my phone vibrates as a text from Simona comes in.
“I’m down the street. Do you want a chai?”
Ever since I told my Simona about my pregnancy, she likes to “check in” on me. I think she’s worried about the fact that I’m going to be a single mom, and I appreciate it.
“Sure, sounds great,” I text back.
“Fantastic, I’ll be at your place in a few, chai in hand. BTW tell me who the father is? Pleez?”
“See you soon.”
I still haven’t told anyone who the father of my baby is. It’s not like anyone would believe me anyway because after I found out I was pregnant with Tom Masters’ baby, I did a google search on him, and what I found was not comforting. He’s a model-dating playboy. I guess he had a fiancée a while ago, but since she left him, he’s cut a swath through the starlets of LA.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m confident in myself and I love the way I look, but I’m not like the women on his arm. I don’t have a photo-ready smile, nor do I have any silicone in my body. No judgment on the ladies who do, but it’s just not me.
But yes, I decided not to reveal the father to anyone. I merely stayed vague, and said it was someone I met who’s decided that he doesn’t want to be involved. Besides, between Simona and my parents, I have a good support system. I can do it without Tom. Hell, it’ll probably be easier without him, seeing that he’s an international movie star.
My doorbell rings and I get up to let Simona in.
“Hi girlfriend! I come bearing gifts,” she sings.
My friend holds up two chai teas and several shopping bags.
“You and my mother,” I say, laughing and closing the door. “Seriously, please stop buying me things. This kid is so spoiled, and he or she isn’t even born yet!”
She giggles, dumping the bags down on my couch.
“No, you’re a single mom! You need charity.” She kisses my cheek to soften her joke. “Besides, come on. I don’t have any nieces or nephews to shop for, so indulge me. Be nice to Ana too because I’ve never seen her so excited.”
I follow Simona into the kitchen where she places my tea on the table, as well as a small white cardboard box with holes. I stare at it for a second.
“Did you buy donuts?”
She grins at me.
“Nope, but I figured you could use a trial period before our bundle of joy arrives.”
I squint.
“What are you talking about?”
The box is moving now, and I stare at it suspiciously.
“Holy shit …”
Simona giggles.
“Yep! Open it.”
I tear the box open and a small black kitten with blue eyes pops his head out. He’s meowing indignantly at being captured in such an undignified way.
“You got me a cat,” I say with panic rising in my voice.
Simona looks a little worried.
“Yes, but he’s cute, right? Do you like him?”
I reach down and pick up the small warm body. The kitten immediately rubs his head into my neck, and tears well in my eyes. Without even knowing it, Simona has given m
e Tom Masters in cat form because this kitten loves to cuddle, just like my former lover.
“Oh Simona, I adore him. Thank you.”
She smiles and plops down in a chair.
“Oh good, because he comes with accessories. There’s a food bowl, a collar and a litter box in the bags over there. I got you the full she-bang.”
I cuddle the kitten to me and he climbs up onto my shoulder, nosing up under my hair. I reach up and grab him and put him on the kitchen floor to explore, but he starts meowing. Picking him up again, he settles happily in my lap and promptly closes his eyes for a little snooze.
“Aw,” Simona says, watching him. “He just wants to be near you. You guys must be soul mates.”
I stare down at the kitten blinking hard, trying not to cry.
“Honey, are you alright?”
Simona is looking at me with a concerned expression and I smile through my tears.
“Sorry, it’s just hormones,” I lie, wiping my eyes. “I absolutely love him, Sims. He’s the best thing I could have gotten right now. Thank you.”
She smiles and pushes my tea towards me. I take a sip and the warm spices settle my mind a little as I sit back.
“So, what are you going to name him?” my friend asks with a smile.
“I have no idea. I’ll have to think about it. I’ll give him a couple days to see what he’s like and maybe some ideas will pop into my head.”
Nodding, Simona watches me.
“That sounds like a plan. So how are you otherwise? Keeping food down? How are your parents by the way? Are they alright with everything now? I know your dad was a little shocked in the beginning.”
I grimace. My dad was upset when I told my parents about my pregnancy, but then again, Ronald’s not one to judge considering he was almost disinherited when he threw caution to the winds and married my mom. They were both twenty-one and my dad was in Miami on spring break from Yale. When he told his family he was engaged, my grandparents threw a fit. They called my mom all sorts of names, implying she wanted a green card and all sorts of bullshit without even meeting her. Fortunately, my dad was having none of that, and he and Ana got married and had me.
So Ronald gets it. Things that appear like bad news sometimes are actually the best news of all, and my baby falls into that category. Although my pregnancy was unexpected, my child is going to be a welcome addition to our family, even if his father has no idea he exists.
“Ronald and Ana are fine,” I tell Simona. “Now that the initial surprise is over, my dad’s on board. He’s hoping it’s a boy, obviously.”
Simona nods. “Obviously. What about work though? What are you going to do?”
I sigh.
“Well, I still have a while before the baby’s born. I finished pulling the photos for my next book together, and it’s in production now. I think we’ll be able to launch pretty soon, and that’ll be a whirlwind. But after that’s over, I can take some time off and hopefully get back out there and start shooting again. I’ll probably do more local shoots until the baby is old enough to travel.”
Simona nods, sipping her tea.
“So you’re going to take the baby with you when you’re working? To Africa and South America?”
I merely shrug.
“Yes, that’s the plan, but we’ll see. Maybe not super far-flung locations at first, but eventually yes.”
My friend nods thoughtfully.
“And is the father okay with this?”
I sigh. I knew this was coming.
“You know I don’t want to talk about the father.”
My friend lets out an exasperated sigh.
“I just don’t get it, Brynn. You’re always so careful, so what happened? Plus, why all the secrecy? Are you going to leave “Father” blank on the baby’s birth certificate?”
I shrug and start stroking the kitten’s head. He begins to purr loudly and the sound is oddly comforting.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I thought I was falling for him but it turns out that I wasn’t. It was just a stupid mistake. One with major consequences obviously, but I’m okay.”
Simona nods.
“Yeah, but Brynn, this isn’t like you. You hate men! At least you did when we were on the cruise together, and then suddenly, you’re knocked up? That’s not you. I mean the timing…everything’s just so strange.”
She goes silent, doing the math in her head. I look at her, holding my breath. Simona was at my first ultrasound appointment, so she knows about how far along I am. Suddenly, my buddy looks at me strangely.
“Did this happen while you were on that island?”
I bite my lip because it’s about time she put two and two together.
“Yes, it did.”
Her mouth falls open.
“What? I mean, that’s so weird that… OMG, you’ve been keeping this from me? What kind of friend are you? What happened? Who is he, and what was he doing on an island? Oh my God, this is so Blue Lagoon. I thought you were a castaway, but instead, you were having hot sex!”
I laugh, despite myself.
“Sort of. His name is Tom and he takes care of the island.”
She gives me a look.
“That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
I shrug and smile.
“Apparently the island is owned by a rich celebrity and Tom is the caretaker. He watches over things because the owner of the island isn’t there himself much of the time.” I feel a little bad spewing lies, but I can’t tell Simona the truth, so I find myself repeating the same tale.
“You had sex with a groundskeeper?” Simona asks, puzzled.
“Yes!” I say. “Don’t judge someone by their occupation.”
Simona nods quickly.
“Of course not! But I have to say…I’m a little proud, girlfriend! Who knew you were having a sex fest that whole time we thought you were missing! Whoo-wee! Although you could have been more careful.”
I put a hand on my belly next to the sleeping kitten and smile.
“I could have been, but I’m not sorry about the outcome.”
Simona smiles back at me.
“Me neither, and I’m so happy I get to be a godmother.”
“Excuse me? Who says you’re going to be the godmother?”
She raises her eyebrow at me. We both know she’s going to be a godparent, but it’s fun to pretend. The rest of the morning passes pleasantly as we sit and talk for several hours about the baby, the kitten, and the future. I’m feeling very lucky to have such a wonderful friend, although in the back of my head, I’m constantly thinking about Tom. I wish so badly that I could have these talks with him, but there’s no sense in feeling upset. I’ve made my choices, and that’s that.
Simona leaves around lunch time, promising she’ll be back later to watch a movie and binge on ice cream. The kitten, who is awake and frolicking through the kitchen, makes his way over to the bags, plunging in and out of them and knocking them to the floor. Laughing, I pick him up.
“You’re so naughty,” I tell him. “Should I call you that? Mr. Naughty Tom Cat?”
I open one of the bags and smile because Simona’s gotten everything Tom Cat could possibly need: there’s litter, accessories, and food. I buckle a small blue collar on him and smile at the gemstones decorating the leather. Even on a boy kitten, Simona couldn’t resist adding sparkles.
Putting him back down, I carry nursery supplies from another shopping bag into my spare room. The room is a bright yellow and usually, I use it for an office while I’m home. But now it has all the trappings of a nursery. A crib is pushed against the wall, bought and assembled by my dad. There are pictures of me and my parents and Simona, the frames leaning against the wall where they’ll be hung later. Plus, the closet is already full to the max with diapers and baby clothes. Feeling happy and blessed, I put the kitten down and watch him as he inspects everything around him.
“This is your brother or sister’s room,” I tell my new cat as he sniffs a small stuffe
d monkey on the floor next to a rocking chair. He meows softly and promptly lays down, putting his little head on the toy’s stomach.
“You’re so sweet,” I giggle before sighing and sitting down on the chair. Tom the Cat jumps into my lap and starts to purr again. I merely enjoy the quiet time and the company of my new pet. But after a while, I get up, groaning at the extra weight sitting in my belly. I pick up the kitten and put him in a large tote bag.
“Come on, Tom,” I say to the little fur ball. “Let’s go get more ice cream for Aunt Simona.”
I pick up my phone off the kitchen table, getting ready to put it in my bag next to the kitten. All of a sudden, my doorbell rings just as my phone vibrates in my hand. Weird. It must be Simona and my mom both calling at the same time. I head to the door while pocketing my vibrating phone, but then immediately fall back at the explosion of noise and flashing lights when the door opens. What the hell?
There are at least fifteen people standing on the welcome mat in front of my apartment. They’re all talking loudly, trying to ask questions before the others around them ask the same questions. My neighbors have their doors open, ogling the spectacle in the hall.
“Miss Hale, is it true you and Tom Masters are a couple?”
“Are you secretly married to an international celebrity?”
“Miss Hale, I see you’re pregnant. Is that his baby?”
My mouth opens and shut because I’m too overwhelmed to answer any questions. I don’t know what else to do, so I shove past the reporters and scramble down the stairs. It’s dangerous given that I’m pregnant, but I can hear them giving chase behind me. Holy cow!
Pushing past the throng, I scramble out onto the sidewalk. My car is parked in a garage across the street, but I don’t have time to use the crosswalk. Quickly, I step out into the road while a car horn blares as tires screech. I scream and skid to a halt, my heart pounding.
“Hey lady, what’s wrong with you?” the driver of the car yells out the window.
Clutching my heart at the near accident, I continue across the street. People on the sidewalks are staring when finally, I dart into the cool darkness of the garage. Making it to my little red VW, I shut and lock myself in before taking a deep breath. What on Earth is going on? How did these people find me? How do they know about Tom? I fumble with my keys, starting my car as my new kitten pokes his head out of my bag.
