“This is killing me, India. I need to know what’s going on here. I need to know if he’s mine or not. I’ve lived with the uncertainty for far too long.”
“There isn’t exactly much we can do right now, Kenny, is there?” She held her baby against her. The tiny, perfect little man that had no idea of the complete and utter mess being played out around him. “And what the hell are you doing talking to my dad? Did we need another complication? He’s going to be on my back morning, noon and night now. I can’t believe you did that.”
“I’m sorry. Really, I’m sorry.” He pushed a hand through his dark hair. “I just saw him with Ethan ... the way you’ve got him dressed ... it’s like he was made to be ours, India. It all got to me.”
She sighed, wishing her life wasn’t like the far fetched movie script it felt like sometimes. Complicated didn’t even begin to describe it at times.
“Look, Charley’s due down here any minute and Vince is already over by the altar. We haven’t got the time to talk right now, Kenny. But later, ok? Later. I promise. We’ll find some time and we’ll talk.”
He pushed a hand through his hair again and looked over at the bar, where Layla was deep in conversation with Michael. India followed his gaze.
“Do you know what’s she’s doing here?” India asked. “Is she with someone?”
“Yeah,” Kenny sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “She’s with me.”
India stared at Kenny until his eyes met hers. “She’s with you? You and Layla Boyd?”
“It’s not what you think, India.”
“No. It never is ... Layla Boyd? I didn’t have her down as your type.”
“She isn’t. She’s a necessary distraction, that’s all. That’s as far as it goes. We see each other now and again, it’s nothing serious.”
India rubbed Ethan’s back as he lay against her shoulder. “You kept that one quiet. I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t particularly want it to be common knowledge. What’re they talking about that’s so important anyway?” Kenny asked. It looked serious, whatever it was.
India looked over, suddenly feeling slightly uncomfortable at the way her husband was talking to the young actress.
“I don’t know. I’ve got no idea what’s going on ...”
She was distracted again, this time by Bobby waving at her frantically from the French windows, thankfully now out of that hideous shirt and dressed more suitably for the occasion.
“Look, I’ve got to go, Kenny. Things are obviously due to get started any minute now.” She looked at him. “But we’ll talk later, ok? I promise.”
***
“What are you doing here?” Michael stood as close to Layla as he could, trying to keep the conversation as calm as he could without drawing attention to them.
“Is that any way to greet me, Michael?”
“Don’t play games, Layla. I’ve had enough of that from you. I told you never to come anywhere near my home, I told you never to go anywhere near my wife and yet here you are. You’re in my home and you’re far too close to my wife and that isn’t making me happy.”
She raised her eyebrows, taking a sip of her champagne. She’d got him rattled. This was working out just the way she’d planned. So far.
“I didn’t hear you showing any concern for your wife when you were having sex with me, Mr Walsh.”
He grabbed her arm then quickly let go, realising people may be watching. “That was a mistake, Layla. A huge and regrettable mistake. I was drunk, it was stupid and I was missing my wife.”
“Do you think India would understand those excuses, Michael? Would she understand that you took me to bed just because you’d had one drink too many and missed her a little bit? Would she really understand that?”
“Don’t push me, Layla. It was once, that’s all. And I gave you what you wanted in return, didn’t I? I got you the contacts you needed. I got you the screen tests, which is more than your father has ever managed to do because, quite honestly sweetheart, you don’t have a quarter of the talent my wife has. But all of that was supposed to mean that you kept that over made-up mouth of yours shut and you don’t appear to be doing that.”
“The contacts are made now, Michael. I don’t need you anymore.”
“So why are you here?”
She just smiled. He wanted her out of there. He wanted her out of there now, but how could he have her removed without drawing attention? And whoever she was with would surely realise she was missing.
“Who are you here with, Layla?”
She reached out with her foot and touched his knee, still smiling, but Michael stepped backwards. “I’m with Kenny Ross.”
Michael hadn’t expected that one. Kenny Ross? He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her again. He had a bad feeling about all of this. A really bad feeling.
“What are you playing at, Layla?”
“Is life perfect for you right now, Michael? With your perfect English wife and your perfect baby boy ...”
He moved his face closer to hers. “Don’t you dare bring my son into this. Don’t you dare. And if I catch you anywhere near India then I’m warning you Layla ...”
She looked right into his eyes. “What? What are you going to do, Michael?”
He didn’t even want to look at her anymore. He was tired and he had too much on his mind already to deal with this right now.
“I’m watching you, Layla. Just remember that. I’m watching you.”
He turned and walked away, pushing a hand through his hair, and Layla took another satisfied sip of champagne, smiling a satisfied smile. Part one was complete. Just time for a short intermission before part two got underway.
***
The wedding blessing went like a dream. Charley looked stunning in a long, ivory dress and Vince was as handsome as he’d always been. Neither Michael nor India had ever seen either of them look so happy. It was like a fairytale ending to the nightmare that had gone before for Charley, and India had felt tears running down her face as she’d watched her friend up there, looking like the princess she deserved to be. She’d wanted Charley to have a dream day and it seemed that she’d had just that, thankfully unaware of all the complicated crap going on behind the scenes.
After the wedding dinner Vince and Charley left to go on their long awaited honeymoon. They hadn’t had the time to have one after their Vegas wedding but now they were off for a three week cruise around the Caribbean. But even though the guests of honour had gone, the party continued.
As it got dark the fairy lights strung around the place lit up the gardens, outdoor patio heaters set up in various areas around the grounds were switched on and professional DJ’s got to work in the marquees that had been erected and set up as outdoor clubs. People were set to party well on into the night.
Kenny and India were by the bar in one of the marquees, watching as Bobby did his best John Travolta in ‘Saturday Night Fever’ impression and it was all India could do not to crack up laughing. She’d had a couple of glasses of champagne and they’d gone straight to her head. Under normal circumstances they wouldn’t have done a thing but since being pregnant and not drinking at all, and then only having the odd one since Ethan’s birth, it didn’t take much to make her feel a little light headed.
“Is he for real?” Kenny asked, even though he had a bit of a soft spot for India’s P.A. Bobby was very hard to dislike.
“He’s trying to impress Miguel,” India said, indicating towards the bar where the handsome, young Puerto Rican bartender was watching Bobby intently.
“Oh, I see. That explains the moves then.”
“Well, that and the copious amounts of Miguel’s special cocktails he’s been throwing down his neck all night.”
“I’ve been keeping well away from them,” Kenny smiled. “I’ve seen less lethal hand grenades.”
India couldn’t help giggling. She’d really needed those couple of drinks to just try and relax her. Infact, as she c
aught sight of her father watching her from across the room she felt like grabbing another one. She’d deliberately been avoiding him for most of the evening because the last thing she needed was another lecture, although she knew she’d be getting one tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that until this whole mess was sorted out. But tonight she just wanted to forget. She wanted to party. It had been a long day, a long and tiring day, but she really just wanted to party. If she could find the energy.
Kenny looked at her, sensing that everything had finally caught up with her. “It’s been a bit of a day, hasn’t it?”
She looked back at him. “You could say that.” She sat back and looked around the room, suddenly aware of how tired she really was. “When did we change, Kenny? What happened to the days when we just used to get up, go surfing and hang out at beach parties?”
“They ended when you married the older man and decided to settle down.”
She threw him a look but Kenny didn’t care. It was the truth.
“Do you miss those days?” he asked. Because he did.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes, I guess. But they were never going to last forever, were they?”
“They could have done.”
She looked around the room again, where the sight of Michael with Ethan on the dance floor made her smile. He was singing to him as he swung him round, up in the air and down again and Ethan was smiling that beautiful baby smile and laughing that irresistible baby laugh.
“But then I’d never have known what it was to love someone the way I love Michael,” she said quietly.
Kenny pushed both hands through his hair and breathed in deep. “India ... if Ethan is mine ...”
“I don’t want to do this now, Kenny.”
“We’ve got to talk about it, India, you promised.”
She sighed, closing her eyes for a second. “I’m tired, Kenny. And there really isn’t a lot we can do tonight, is there?” She opened her eyes, smiling as Michael came over, holding out his hand.
“I’ve come to ask my gorgeous wife if she’d like to dance.” He gave her that movie-star smile he was so famous for and India felt her stomach do a million somersaults, over and over again. God, she loved him so much. How could someone get more handsome the older they got? Because her husband certainly did. He was fifty-one years old now, although he looked a good ten years younger than that, and he was so much more handsome than he had been the day she’d first met him. That day back in 1991 when it had all began. This whole crazy journey. Thirteen years on and who’d have thought they’d all be where they were now?
She reached out and took his hand, letting him pull her up. “I’ll see you later, Kenny,” she said, walking off onto the dance floor with Michael.
Kenny sat back and watched her. The way she looked at Michael – the great Michael Walsh – still managed to tear into his heart. He ached for her. He’d ached for her for almost thirteen years and it was never going to stop. That’s why he needed to know if Ethan was his, he needed to know that because it could change everything. Couldn’t it? Could Ethan being his mean she’d leave Michael and start up the life with him that he spent every day dreaming about? Of course it didn’t. He was stupid to even think it could be that simple.
“There you are,” Layla said, perching herself down next to Kenny. “I thought you’d deserted me.”
“I’m sure you’ve more than managed to keep yourself occupied.” Kenny was still watching Michael and India. Michael was holding her close, so close their entire bodies were touching and she was leaning into him, occasionally looking up at him to receive a gentle kiss and every time he kissed her and she smiled at him Kenny felt his heart almost break. Because if it turned out that Michael was Ethan’s father then that would be it. He’d have lost her for good. What he was feeling was selfish. The fact that he almost hoped for a result that would turn everyone’s lives upside down was the most selfish thing he could hope for, but if it meant that was the only chance he ever had of one day having her in his life the way he really wanted, then he hoped beyond anything else that Ethan was his.
“Kenny? Are you going to pay me any attention tonight?”
Kenny was starting to wish he’d never got into this relationship, or whatever it was that they actually had. She was starting to bug him tonight. That spoilt-little-rich-girl whine of hers could really grate after a while.
“I’m tired, Layla.”
”You’ve been tired all day.”
He looked at her. She was attractive but still too obvious for him. She wore too much make-up, her clothes were always way too tight and yes, she was great in bed but that was it. That’s where the interest ended, and it wasn’t enough for Kenny tonight.
“Since when did you become boring, Kenny Ross?”
“Since I grew up.” He stood up, unable to stomach watching India with Michael any longer. “Just leave me alone now, Layla, ok? Just leave me the hell alone.”
***
“What was all that business with Layla Boyd?” India asked.
“What business?” Michael pulled her closer, placing his hands in the small of her back.
“At the bar, earlier this afternoon. What were you talking about?”
“It was nothing. She’s been bugging me about a role in my next movie and I just wanted to make it clear to her that I’m not interested. That’s all.”
India wasn’t convinced and Michael could see that, quickly thinking on his feet.
“She started to rely on me a bit too much after ‘Above Board’, honey. She got lucky, she was ok in that role but she seems to think I can get her more of the same and she has to understand that I can’t. I was just telling her that she maybe needs to talk to her father a bit more. He’s the casting agent after all. But she doesn’t really want to go cap in hand to daddy every time she wants something.”
“Why not? She usually does.” India gave a small yawn, leaning against Michael as he held her and he breathed a silent sigh of relief. She seemed to be satisfied with his explanation. The questions were over.
“Where’s Ethan?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Emma’s got him. I think today’s finally caught up with him. He’s shattered.”
“He’s not the only one.”
Michael kissed her gently, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Layla Boyd had reappeared.
“There’s no reason for us to stick around, you know. We can quite easily slope off to bed ... you look amazing tonight, do you know that?”
She couldn’t help smiling. Once the wedding ceremony had finished she’d changed out of her more formal dress and heels into jeans, t-shirt and boots and she’d instantly felt more comfortable.
“In this get up?”
“In any get up. You always look amazing to me.”
“Have you been on the whisky again? Or are you just after something?”
He smiled again and she kissed him. She loved kissing him. For the seven or so years that they’d been together she’d never tired of kissing him.
“Take your husband to bed and make an old man very happy.”
She laughed, reaching up to stroke his cheek, suddenly getting serious. “I love you so much, Michael Walsh. So much.”
He’d needed to hear those words. He’d needed to hear them so badly. Especially tonight.
“Then let’s get out of here. Let’s leave this party and have a private one of our own.” He started kissing her neck, his fingers sliding up and under her t-shirt, touching her skin and she gasped out loud. She wanted to go with him, of course she did, but she was a mum now and the fact she could hear her baby crying meant sex with daddy was going to have to wait.
Michael groaned as she pulled away from him, straightening her t-shirt. “Come on, India. Emma’s with him, he’ll be fine.”
“He’s crying, Michael. I want to make sure he’s alright, I’m his mum.”
“I know ... I know, honey.” He pushed a hand through his hair and smil
ed at her. “Go on then. I’ll still be here when you get back.”
She smiled too, standing on tip-toes to kiss him quickly. “Yeah. I know you will.”
He watched her run over to Emma, taking Ethan from her, cuddling him into her shoulder, his crying stopping almost immediately as she kissed the top of his head, rocking him gently. She was the perfect mother. An absolute natural. Just like he’d always known she would be.
“Was that display meant for me?”
He turned round to see Layla standing next to him. “What display?”
“You. Practically having sex with your wife on the dance floor.”
“Oh, grow up, Layla.”
He walked out of the marquee and away from where India might see him with Layla again. He couldn’t risk her coming over, asking more questions. He couldn’t risk Layla opening her mouth.
“It won’t change anything you know.”
Michael stopped and turned around. “Is there a point to all of this, Layla? Is there something else you want from me?”
She shook her head, looking up at him. She’d never really gone for the older man before but there was something about Michael Walsh. India didn’t deserve him. She really didn’t.
She moved closer to him, playing with the collar of his jacket. “If you ever get bored of your wife, you can always come play with me again ...”
He pushed her away, casting her aside like the rubbish she was to him. “India’s worth a million of you, Layla. You don’t even come close, you’re nothing, do you hear me? Nothing.”
She was still smiling at him, twisting her hair round her finger in that annoying way of hers, making her look like some cheap Marilyn Monroe imitation.
“You still slept with me, though. Didn’t you?”
“And I regret it every day of my life.”
“I don’t.”
He looked at her again, wishing she’d just go away. He wished she’d just leave him alone. He had far more important things to think about, far more important things to do than stand here and go over old and pointless ground.
“I don’t care, Layla. I don’t care what you think or what you feel because you don’t matter to me. But my wife does. I care about what she feels because I love her, and if you do anything – anything - to upset her then I will end your career. Just like that. And believe me, you don’t want to call my bluff.”
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