The Price of Fame: A Price Novel (The Price Novels Book 2)

by Craft, Maggi

  I called Arden at work. “Will you be home this afternoon?” I asked. She said she should be home by four. “The contractor is bringing over several house plans for us to look over, based on what we told him we wanted.”

  “OK, sounds good. Yeah, I will be there. What time?”

  “Fiveish,” I said.

  “OK, gotta go. Love you,” she managed to blurt out before hanging up.

  I really wanted this house to be perfect. I wanted it to be where we raised our kids and lived forever, so it was very important to me that we chose exactly what we wanted and needed. Arden hadn’t been very picky about what she wanted other than to say that she wanted a big bathroom and a nice backyard. My list was much longer. Huge closets in all bedrooms as well as separate baths, a theater room, a gym, a small guesthouse, a pool, and at least a five-car garage.

  I was meeting Dad at the lot that was just inside the gates of their property. He and one of his golf buddies had bought all of the land when the developer faced financial trouble, and they had gated off all of their property from the rest of the neighborhood. They had the whole back half of the development, but the only house that was ever built back there was Mom and Dad’s. A few years ago I bought the golf buddy’s half when Dad found out he was selling it.

  One huge plus was that buying there put another gate between us and the public. The one that led into the neighborhood gave hundreds of people access, but no one other than our friends and family had access to Mom and Dad’s property, which was nice. We needed it now that people were insane. Our house now had its own fence around it, but people had actually gone through our trash, tried to scale the fence, and tried to sneak in when we opened it to get in ourselves. That wouldn’t happen at the new house.

  “Where is Arden?” Dad asked as I got out of my vehicle. Even in his late forties, he looked like a kid, with his baseball cap on backward, leaning up against his car.

  “Still at work. She will come a little later, but I don’t think she really cares one way or the other.”

  “She doesn’t want to decorate her house?” he asked. He should have known the answer, but he probably couldn’t understand because my mother decorated and redecorated their house every time the season changed, and had all my life. It was just a hobby, but she was really good at it. Their house always looked better than anything you could see in some magazine.

  “Dad, she didn’t really care that much about planning her wedding. Paint colors aren’t necessarily anything she cares about. Other than ‘nothing loud,’” I said, using air quotes. “That’s all she said.”

  “Well, then, this should be easy. You make all the decisions and have no one to argue about what finish on the hardware or light fixtures, so this will take much less time and stress.”

  I nodded. “I just hope I am timing this right. I’ve got a busy year coming up. If I’m not here, how are those decisions going to get made? Maybe we should just buy something and put this off until later.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not like most of it can’t be done over the phone. I’ll be your eyes and ears on the home front. Just get it over with if this is what you really want.”

  “But you’re not here half the time either.”

  He looked out over my shoulder. “Yeah, I’ve been working from here more. I’m really only out of town maybe one night a week. So it’s really no big deal.”

  This was news to me. “Since when?”

  Making eye contact with me again, he said, shrugging it off, “Since Jeremy left the firm and started working with us. Dad doesn’t need us both all the time. It’s really working out for all of us this way. I’m home more, and so is Jeremy. So it’s fine. I can handle it for you.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “I have to drive past it every day. Why the hell would I mind?”

  “Extra stress.”

  He grinned. “Perfect.” He stood up straight and patted my back.

  “That sounds amazing, Dad. If you’re sure.” I looked at him, and he smiled and nodded.

  “Why don’t we have Byron meet us at the house? That way we can just ride over here so he can see where you’re building.”

  Byron Eubanks was a friend of Dad’s and owned a huge residential construction company. I knew he was a bit backlogged with business, but no doubt he was giving us preferential treatment since he was a friend of Dad’s.

  I followed Dad back to the house and texted Arden the plan. Mom was in the kitchen flipping through baby catalogs. “Who are you getting to decorate the nursery?” she asked before I was even in the house all the way.

  “We aren’t. We are just going to hang up some pictures of stuffed bears and airplanes for now. They’ll be too young to care,” I stated, knowing that was not what she wanted to hear.

  She shook her head, disregarding what I had said. “Who?”

  I started laughing. “Whoever you suggest. Unless you want to do it.”

  “Will Arden care?”

  I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

  “I didn’t think so.” She smiled. “Great. I have some ideas already that I want to show her.”

  “I’m sure she will be happy to hear that. She’s already stressing about everything else.”

  “What about names? Have y’all decided what you’re naming them?”

  I shook my head.

  “Slayde, you have to know this soon.”

  “We have, like, three and a half months, Mom. We will figure it out.”

  “Well, what are you leaning toward?” she asked.

  Dad smiled at me and said, “Beer?”

  I nodded, and he handed me one.

  “I mean, you must have at least discussed it, right?”

  I opened my beer and threw the cap in the trash. “Yes, Mother, we have discussed it a little, OK? But nothing has been decided. Please don’t ask her a million questions as soon as she gets here. We will name them. Don’t worry. It will be something awesome, like Blanket or Apple. You’ll be so happy.” I tried not to laugh at her expression.

  She glared at me and pointed the catalog at me. “You better not.”

  I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, not denying anything.

  Of course, when Arden walked in, the first thing Mom said was “Arden, my son says y’all are naming these kids weirdo Hollywood names, but I will not call my grandchild something stupid and idiotic like North Price.”

  Arden just smiled. “Well, crap. There go all the things I have already had monogrammed.”

  Mom smiled and grabbed the catalogs when Byron buzzed at the gate. Dad went to let him in, and I gave A a hug. “Long day?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t bad, actually. I just did rounds.”

  “What? No cool surgeries today?” I asked.

  She shook her head as she drank some water. “No, we had a different attending today, and she doesn’t allow interns in her OR.”

  “Definitely not as cool as Dr. Greene?”

  She looked at me strangely. “Uh, I guess not, but Dr. Greene isn’t really cool.”

  I didn’t understand. I thought it was always him who let her do these surgeries, but before I could ask her anything else, Byron Eubanks had joined us in my parents’ kitchen.

  Chapter 19

  Arden

  Slayde and I started building on the property next to his parents’. But it was really his thing. I just told him to do it and that I would show up the day we moved in. I wasn’t the kind of person who cared. I wanted it to be neat and clean, and that was all I really cared about. As far as the decorating, I was going to use Slayde’s saying: “Someone else will do that.” That was my motto for the whole house project. I even turned over most of the nursery decorating to Lexi. Not that I didn’t care about that, but she had good taste. We had an interior decorator, but she still had some questions from time to time about what we liked. For the most part, Lexi made those decisions too. Even though I’d thought Slayde was only trying to get a rise out of me when he mentioned it, we
ended up with nine bedrooms in the new house.

  We were also building a separate guesthouse for Casey to live in as long as she worked for us. She would be getting married at some point, but her fiancé worked away. So this actually worked out great for us. We would have a room in the house across from the nursery for when she stayed to help at night, but we knew she couldn’t be there all the time. When we mentioned that we would look into finding one more nanny to come in after I went back to work, Casey suggested that her sister might be able to do it. Apparently she had helped Casey in the past when a job needed another adult. So, assuming we would love her sister, Hannah, as much as we did Casey, we built two rooms in the guesthouse.

  I really liked Casey; she reminded me a lot of my sister Isabelle. She was very smart and witty. She didn’t hold her tongue. She and Slayde got along well too, but only in a good way. I really had a good feeling about her being with us for a long time.

  I was lying on the bed trying to get comfortable. I was twenty-four weeks now and miserable. Casey had come by to drop off some things she’d picked up at that baby store for me, and she was about to head home. Brian, her fiancé, was home for the weekend, and she was excited to see him.

  “Have a good weekend, Arden. Try and rest,” she said, sticking her head in my open bedroom door.

  “You too,” I said and smiled.

  She smiled big. “Oh, you can bet I am. It’s been three weeks since I have seen him. We will have a good weekend all weekend.”

  I laughed out loud. “Well, please don’t get pregnant, whatever you do. I seriously can’t do this without you.”

  She sat down on the edge of my bed. “I won’t. I promise—but you have Slayde. He is going to be a great mommy.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, he is, but unfortunately he has to go back to be Jake Brandon for a while, and I will be without my baby momma.”

  “Oh, he could totally be GI Joe or whoever and have a baby on set. Surely Julie can change a diaper.”

  Julie, Slayde’s assistant, was a wonderful assistant. But for some reason I just couldn’t picture her with children of any age, other than Slayde, of course. He was about all the child she could handle.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I will be leaving my babies with Julie.”

  “You know, some of these actresses take their babies to work. I think I read somewhere that Denise Richards or Alyssa Milano or somebody breast-fed her baby at work on set.”

  I shook my head, not wanting to even think about it. “Yeah, well, I don’t think Slayde could handle two babies at work. So that would once again leave it up to Julie.”

  “Poor Julie,” she said, shaking her head. She stood up. “OK, you rest and call me if you need anything.”

  “OK,” I said as she closed my door behind her. Yeah, I felt certain that Casey and I would become the best of friends.

  I had just come in from work, taken a shower, and crawled in bed. My last shift was brutal, and I hadn’t gotten to sit down at all, and I felt it now. When Slayde came in an hour later, he eyed me suspiciously. “What?” I asked, putting my book down.

  He sat next to me on the bed. “Babe, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like shit. Are you OK? Should I call Dr. Wells?”

  I almost laughed. I could see the concern in his eyes, and I wanted to minimize his worry, but I was just too tired. “I feel like it. I’m just tired. I need to rest. That’s all.”

  He went and turned on the shower for himself. He came back in the room and looked at me. “Have you eaten?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  His look grew even more suspicious. “I didn’t think so. I’m assuming you don’t want to go out, so I’ll go get something after I take a quick shower.”

  I closed my eyes and said, “Thank you.” At least I think I said it out loud. I may have just mouthed it. I was too tired to be sure.

  I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up to Slayde standing over me shirtless and dripping wet, shaking me.

  “What?” I asked. “Why are you wet?”

  “Arden, look at your feet.” He pointed down at my usually tiny little bony toes, which had become swollen Vienna sausages.

  I sat up. “Aw, crap.”

  “That’s it. I’m calling Dr. Wells,” he said, and before I could even argue, he left the room. Minutes later he returned dry and with clothes on, carrying three pillows from the guest room. He grabbed my feet and put the pillows under them. I stared at him as he looked at me.

  “These are now little piggies for sure.” Not really liking him calling anything about me a piggy, I scowled at him, but he smiled. “Please argue that point with me, so I know you’re still conscious.”

  I leaned back. “I’m too tired, but I won’t forget that comment later. I promise.”

  He chuckled. “Good. There you are.”

  I tried to get comfy, and he said, “Nope. Don’t cross your feet. And I’m going to get you some water. If these puppies don’t look better in an hour or so, you’re going to see Dr. Wells.”

  I groaned. “Slayde.”

  “What?” he countered, but I was too tired to respond. I just closed my eyes and went back to sleep.

  I woke up to him sitting up watching TV in bed. “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Eleven thirty,” he said. “You’ll be happy to know that your feet look more like your feet and not Miss Piggy’s.”

  I wanted to be mad, but that adorable crooked smile wouldn’t let me. “I hate you,” I growled.

  “Ah, no you don’t.” Smiling down at me, he leaned over, kissing my lips. “Mom brought you food,” he said quietly. “If you make a happy plate, like Mom used to say, I’ll rub your feet.”

  “Hooves.”

  He sat up. “What?”

  “Miss Piggy had hooves.”

  He rolled his eyes and said, “That’s my girl.” He got up and disappeared, returning minutes later with a tray of food. A delicious home-cooked Lexi meal.

  “Remind me to thank your mom,” I said before shoveling a forkful of mashed potatoes in my mouth.

  He smiled and went back to his show. When I was done, he took the tray back to the kitchen and, upon returning, grabbed my feet, pulling them in his lap.

  “I love you,” I said.

  “Moody moody.”

  I went back to sleep.

  I was lying in bed the next night by myself when I felt them move for the first time. It was so weird. At first I wasn’t sure if that was what I felt. It just felt like something tickled across the inside of my belly. I had been having an emotional battle with my feelings about becoming a mother, but this completely changed things for me. I lay there absolutely still, hoping to feel them again, but I didn’t.

  A few days later, after I climbed into bed to watch TV with Slayde, I felt them again. The tickle was a lot stronger this time. I waited a minute and then felt it again. Slayde tried to ask me something, and I told him to be quiet a minute. I wanted to concentrate.

  He whispered, “What’s wrong?” and I felt it again. I grabbed his hand and put it on my tummy, and he was really still. After a minute, the babies moved again, and he felt it too.

  “Is that what I think it is?” His eyes were huge.

  “Yeah.” We were both still, waiting to feel it again.

  “Is this the first time you have felt it?” he asked.

  “No, I did the other night when you were in New York, but that was the only other time. It’s cool, huh?” I could tell he was so thrilled to see me actually excited about all of this.

  With that crooked smile wide, he leaned down and kissed my lips and whispered, “Very,” before putting his lips on my belly and peppering it with soft kisses.

  It wasn’t long before you could see the babies moving around. Slayde would come home and rub all over my stomach. If he would start talking to them, they would usually move. I guessed it was understandable, because they say they you can hear while in the womb, but it got old fast. Slayde usually started doing this
when he got in bed, and then they moved around for hours after that. So I couldn’t sleep. I finally told him he wasn’t allowed to wake them up, because he didn’t have to stay up all night with them.

  The next few months were long. I had to see Dr. Wells once a week after she released me to go back to work. She was not excited about the idea of me working after my little scare, but she was also a physician. She knew what stepping out now would mean to my career, so she was kind enough to see me when she was at the hospital so I didn’t have to go to her clinic across town. She said I was doing well, but I was still high risk.

  I was still working my normal schedule, but I slept most of the time I was at home. I sometimes slept between twelve and sixteen hours; it was crazy. I felt terrible because I was hardly with Slayde while I was conscious, but he didn’t complain. He was the usual little momma hen that he always was. I was moody and extremely unpleasant when I was awake. I was sure he really wanted to slit his wrist, but if so, he didn’t let it show.

  When I hit the thirty-four-week mark, I was officially beyond miserable. I was now at the point where I couldn’t sleep. If I was still, they were moving. There was no more room in there for anything. I couldn’t breathe.

  One day I was at the hospital working, and I started having sharp pains in my stomach. I tried to ignore them, but finally I couldn’t. I called Dr. Wells, who happened to be at the hospital. She told me to meet her in her office, and she would check me out. As soon as I walked into her office, my water broke. I panicked. I had no idea what was happening or what to do. I had actually delivered two babies in the ER, but that doesn’t help you when you’re the one in labor.

  “Arden, look at me,” Dr. Wells said. “You need to relax. I’m going to get you admitted and try and stop the contractions.”

  “Stop them?” I asked.

  “Yes, stop them. We want these babies to stay in another three weeks, if possible. I’d love to avoid any time in the NICU. Where is Slayde? Do you want me to call him?”