At This Moment (Of Love and Madness #1)

by Karen Cimms

  He listened quietly. If she had known him better, she would’ve noticed his hands curled into fists and the muscle twitching in his jaw. But she didn’t. Instead, she lit her cigarette and took a deep drag as she walked back to the other side of the desk.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do. First, go to the doctor with her and make sure she’s actually pregnant. If she is, then you suggest—strongly—that she terminate it because you are not in a position to play daddy right now. You have your entire career ahead of you, and you can’t let some teenager and her brat—”

  “That’s enough.” He spoke so low it might have been difficult to hear the words, but the look he was giving her carried plenty of warning.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said that’s enough.”

  “Billy.”

  “I didn’t come here to discuss my personal life with you—just my professional life. Two different things. Got it?”

  “You’re making a huge mistake.”

  “Got it?” he repeated, louder this time.

  She leaned back and flashed him a phony smile. “Absolutely.” She snuffed out her cigarette. “Let’s talk about your career then, shall we?”

  He nodded.

  “Two possibilities. The first could be quite lucrative, but we’re going to have to change your appearance before you audition. One of the big three is casting a new show, kind of like The Monkees or The Partridge Family. They’re trying to take advantage of the boy band craze. Think New Kids on the Block. We’ll go back to the dirty blond hair. You’ll need to cut it short and get it styled.”

  “A TV show?”

  She nodded. “The network wants real musicians to play band members. You’ve got that going for you—and your looks, of course. What teenage girl won’t want your poster hanging on her bedroom wall?” She snorted. “Clearly you’re a hit with kids.”

  He bristled at her thinly veiled reference to Kate.

  “I’m not an actor.”

  “No, but how hard would it be to act like a musician?”

  “They want real musicians to act like real musicians, for a kids’ TV show?”

  “Teenagers, but yes. If they can’t find musicians who fit their image, they’ll just hire actors.”

  “Then what? Teach them to play instruments?”

  She shook her head. “That’s the magic of television, sweetheart. They’d make it look like they were playing while another musician played the actual music.”

  “What music would I play?”

  “Pop. Things their writers create for the show. There would be tours and albums—of course, only if the show was a hit.”

  “So I wouldn’t play my own music or even what I wanna play.”

  “They would have complete control. But again, because they’re looking to attract preteens and teens, the pregnant teen girlfriend probably won’t fly. But it’s worth a shot. The money could be good, especially if it gets picked up. Then there’s the marketing.”

  “Marketing?” She was giving him a headache.

  “T-shirts, lunch boxes, posters. Teenage girls are an endless revenue stream. We could be looking at some serious coin here.” He’d gone from potential disaster to cash cow in less than sixty seconds.

  “I’m a serious musician, Christa. Bleaching my hair was one thing, but dyeing it again and cutting it to look like some teen idol faggot isn’t happening. I don’t want anyone telling me what I can and can’t play, and I sure as hell don’t want my picture on a lunch box.”

  “A ‘serious’ musician wouldn’t have fucked up the most important job of his career because he and his teenage girlfriend had a ‘situation.’” She used air quotes to make her point.

  “No TV show,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Fine.” Christa folded her hands in her lap. “The only other option is a full-on push to book Viper. If we can get you out there over the next few months and demonstrate a strong following, I can work on getting you a record deal, but no guarantees.”

  “Booking me where?”

  “Everywhere. All the way to LA and every stop in between. No record company is going to take a chance on you without knowing they’re going to make money. If you can prove yourself on the road, put some distance between what happened here and yourself, in six months or so I might be able to get some A&R people out to look at you.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I can’t go on the road right now. At least not for long hauls.”

  “Jesus Christ. Why not?”

  “I told you. I’m getting married and Kate is pregnant. I’m not leaving her and taking off for the next six months.”

  She slammed both palms against her desk. “Then take her with you! I don’t give a shit! You’re making this a lot harder than you’re worth, you know that?”

  “You work for me, right?”

  Her eyes widened and the corner of her mouth curled up. “No, baby. It doesn’t work that way. You do what I tell you. Then everybody’s happy.”

  “Not me.”

  “You know what?” She pulled out her briefcase and flipped through a stack of papers. “Here’s your contract. I’m done. I’m not even charging you a cancellation fee. I’m just not wasting my time.”

  She tore the contract in half and dropped it into the wastebasket next to her desk.

  “You’re on your own, babe. See how far you get without me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Kate watched Joey over the Sicilian pizza they were sharing at a midtown Sbarro’s. “Yes, I want you to give me away.”

  His curls bounced as he shook his head. “Sorry. No can do.” Not even the hint of a smile.

  Her mouth fell open. “You have to. You’re all I have.”

  “Can’t I just be the best man? I mean, I’ll actually be the best man anyway.”

  “The groom picks his own best man.”

  “Still.”

  “Besides, Billy’s asking his cousin.”

  “Cousin? I didn’t think he had any family.”

  “He has a cousin back in Kansas.”

  “Kansas? Like Wizard of Oz Kansas?” He shook his head, muttering. “I should’ve known he was a hillbilly.”

  Kate glared.

  “How about man of honor?”

  “You can be both. You can give me away and be the man of honor. I’m asking Toni to be maid of honor.”

  He clapped his hands and squealed. “I love her!”

  “I know!” Kate imitated his enthusiasm. “You two are so much alike, I’m not surprised. All sass and sarcasm.”

  With that one burst of excitement over, Joey reeled himself in and returned to his pizza. He slipped a paper napkin from the holder and dabbed at some nonexistent oil, then he picked a piece of pepperoni off his slice and nibbled it slowly.

  She was about ready to bean him. “Well?”

  He looked up and blinked. “Well, what?”

  “Joey!”

  His shoulders sagged along with his face. “Fine. But I won’t like it.”

  Squeezing his cheeks between her fingers, she made him look at her. “I love Billy. I’m happy. I may not have planned my life this way, but I’d still choose him.” She squeezed harder. “I mean it.”

  “Fine!” He twisted from her grip. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.” He gave her a wild-eyed, toothy smile. “See?” He looked almost deranged.

  He wiped his fingers on a paper napkin and pulled a small notepad from his backpack. “I guess if we’re gonna do this, you better give me the details so I can start planning. We’ve got the who and the what. The why is becoming more obvious every day.” His eyes raked over her belly. “When, where, and what are we wearing?”

  “May 20 at the Methodist church in Bayonne.”

  “Methodist?” He slammed the notebook on the table.

  Nearby diners turned and stared. He was acting as if she’d said they would be exchanging vows at the local House of Devil Worship.

  “Yes, Methodist—and lower your voice.
I haven’t been to church lately and since I’m also pregnant and living in sin, I didn’t think the nuns would be hanging a banner to welcome me back.”

  “But we’re Catholic!”

  “You and I are Catholic. Billy was raised Methodist—not that he practices, but at least it’s his church. We’re still being married in the eyes of God. Isn’t that all that matters?”

  “Who are you?” Joey demanded.

  Exasperated, she lobbed a rolled-up napkin at him. “I’m the same girl I always was. Please don’t be like this.”

  “Fine.” He tossed his head. “I’m nothing if not flexible.”

  “Ha!”

  “So what are we wearing?” He tapped his pen, suddenly impatient.

  “Something simple. It’s going to be a small wedding. Maybe just dinner afterward.”

  “Absolutely not. You’re having a real wedding. It can be simple and elegant, and it can also be cheap, just like that piece of glass you call an engagement ring. I’ll take care of the dress. In fact, let me take care of all of you.” He became more animated, like someone had flipped a switch. “I’ll do your hair and makeup, of course. Oh!” He nearly bounced from his seat. “Let me design your dress with my friend Leslie from F.I.T. I’ll be the man of honor and your fairy godfather.” Linking his fingers under his chin, he batted his eyes.

  She laughed in spite of her frustration. “Okay, but one condition?”

  He visibly deflated. “What?”

  “No beads, poufs, or feathers. Nothing sprouting out the top of my head. And I don’t want it to be bright white. White, but not white-white.”

  “That’s five conditions.”

  “Promise.”

  “Fine. You’ll look beautiful, I promise.” He lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You’d look beautiful in feathers and sequins, too, but what-everrr,” he trilled.

  “And no sequins.”

  He picked up his slice of pizza. “You can be such a party pooper.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Everything had gone so smoothly in the weeks leading up to the wedding that Kate shouldn’t have been surprised when Billy dropped his bombshell.

  She gaped at his reflection above hers in the mirror.

  “You wait until hours before I meet them and the day before we get married to tell me your cousin is married to your ex-girlfriend?”

  “Former girlfriend. ‘Ex’ makes it sound more serious than it was.”

  She whirled around. “You’re splitting hairs.”

  “Relax.” He gave her the half-smile that usually turned her to mush, but she wasn’t buying it this time. “You’ll love them.”

  He was clueless.

  “I’m more worried about what they’ll think of me.”

  “They’ll love you.” He shrugged as if it was a foregone conclusion.

  All he’d told her previously was that his cousin was an attorney and his wife was a teacher. That Luann was also the girl he’d dated for three years in high school and college had somehow slipped his mind.

  “It’s no big deal,” he insisted. “If I didn’t think it might come up, I wouldn’t have mentioned it at all.”

  Her eyebrows creased into a deep V. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  “We went to different schools. We drifted apart. I dated someone else. I left school and moved east.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots. “End of story.”

  All her little insecurities came flooding back. It would be bad enough to be judged by his cousin, who she knew almost nothing about, but by an ex-girlfriend? Someone he’d been with for years, instead of months? She felt sick. And fat.

  “It just would’ve been nice to meet your ex-girlfriend when I wasn’t all bloated.”

  “Former girlfriend.” He stood and wrapped his arms around her. “And you’re not bloated, you’re pregnant. And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known. I love you more than I’d ever imagined was possible. I swear on this little lump right here.” He gave her belly a gentle squeeze. “Why are you freaking out? Luann and I are friends. I didn’t get upset when she and Robbie hooked up. I was happy for them. Besides, if we’re all okay with it, you certainly should be.”

  A horrible thought popped into her head. Feeling a little sweaty behind the knees suddenly, she leaned against the dresser. “Did you . . . you know . . . with her?”

  It took him a few seconds to read her mind. “Seriously?”

  She nodded.

  “No. I never slept with her.”

  “Three years is a long time for someone who—”

  “Someone who what?”

  The worms were already peeking over the rim of their can—might as well open it up the rest of the way. “For someone who had trouble keeping his pants on.”

  Those familiar little muscles began to dance along his jawline.

  “I wasn’t a saint, Katie. You asked if I slept with Luann, and I said no.” He shot her a level gaze. “I really don’t want to have this conversation, okay?”

  She should let it go; she really should, but she couldn’t.

  “So you cheated?”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to walk out, but he didn’t. He grabbed her hand, led her to the edge of the bed, and pulled her down beside him. Then he put his hands on either side of her face and leaned in until they were practically breathing the same air.

  “I love you. Tomorrow it’ll be official, but I’ve been committed to you since the day we met and I will stay committed to you until the day I die. Even before we had a clue where this was going, the thought of you pushed anyone else from my mind. I’ve never felt that way before. Not with Luann, not with anyone. Yeah, I was wrong, but I was also a horny seventeen-year-old.”

  “Now you’re a horny twenty-four-year-old. What’s changed?”

  “Me,” he said softly, drawing his nose across hers. “That’s what’s changed. You have nothing to worry about.”

  She wanted to believe him, but it was hard. He was so talented and so gorgeous. How could he ever be satisfied with just plain Kate? And if he couldn’t?

  “Just so you know, it’s a deal breaker. If you ever cheat on me, it’s over. Just the thought of you with . . .”

  A tear slid down her cheek. Billy wiped it away with his thumb. “Never gonna happen. I’m in this for the long haul, Katie. Till death.”

  When the doorbell rang a few hours later, Kate took one last look in the mirror. Then she scooped up the half-dozen dresses lying on the bed, dumped them on the floor of her closet, and went to greet Billy’s cousin and his wife, the former-slash-ex-girlfriend.

  “Here she is.” Billy beamed. “This is Katie.”

  There was no denying Robbie and Billy were related. Although not as tall as Billy, and with sandy brown hair, not blond, Robbie had the same blue-gray eyes and chiseled features. And if Robbie was attractive, then Luann was a knockout with black hair and pale green eyes.

  Feeling self-conscious as they turned to greet her, Kate resisted the urge to fidget. She reached out to shake Robbie’s hand, stiffening as he gathered her into a bear hug. When he let go, he held her at arm’s length, smiling. “Well, buddy, you’ve done well for yourself.” His twang was similar to Billy’s, although more pronounced.

  Luann, on the other hand, was one hundred percent southern belle.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Luann said, already pressing the palm of her hand against Kate’s belly. “We just started trying for our own.”

  Robbie winked at Billy. “Who knows? That little stop by the hotel may have done the trick.”

  Luann smacked him on the wrist. “Don’t listen to him!”

  Kate didn’t know if that meant they had or had not had sex at the hotel within the last hour, although if Robbie was anything like his cousin, that would be a big yes. Probably twice.

  After encouraging everyone to sit, Billy offered to get drinks while Kate tried to make small talk. He returned with chardonnay for Luann and a glass
of Hi-C for Kate.

  When Luann stared at her glass and asked what she was drinking, Kate felt like a little kid in a roomful of grownups.

  “Hi-C,” Billy said, laughing, as he handed Robbie a Molson. “She’s been craving it. That and watermelon, half-dill pickles, Jersey corn, and tomatoes. I’m glad summer’s coming because it’s been hell finding some of that stuff.”

  Luann laughed. “I’m a Hawaiian Punch gal myself.”

  Robbie slipped his hand around her shoulders. “She’ll be in a twelve-step program one of these days.”

  She poked him good-naturedly. “It’s my one big weakness.”

  Kate felt a knot inside her unwind. She liked Luann, even though she was so beautiful, it was intimidating.

  The conversation soon veered to the old days, but Kate didn’t mind. She loved seeing Billy looking happy and relaxed. Besides, she was busy focusing on drinking her Hi-C without getting a red mustache. When the doorbell rang, she was out of her seat before Billy could move.

  “I’ll get it,” she waved him back. “It’s probably Joey.”

  “Oh my God!” he squealed when she opened the door. “Could you just die?”

  She stuck her finger in her ear to stop the ringing. “Could you reel it in a bit?”

  “Not possible.” He pushed his way past her, trying to peek over her shoulder down the long hallway. “Are they here? What does she look like?”

  “Lower your voice.”

  “No.” He dumped his bags in the kitchen and dragged Kate toward the living room.

  “Hello!” he sang, his hand outstretched. “I’m Joey, father of the bride.”

  Robbie looked confused but accepted Joey’s hand.

  Joey gawked at him. “Wow, those apples didn’t fall far from the tree.” He looked at Billy, then Robbie. “You could be twins.” He turned to Robbie. “Let me guess. You got all the personality.” Without waiting for a response, he zeroed in on Luann. “Good lord, you’re gorgeous!”