Samson squinted his eyes at him. “Are you kidding? I’m the one who set it up. She deserves to be happy. In case you’ve forgotten, you left her to have a baby with someone else.”
He hadn’t forgotten. Hell, it was all he could think about some days.
Not responding, he let out a deep sigh and shook his head.
“It’ll be fine, Cal,” Samson assured him. “You did what you had to do.”
“Did I?” Callan asked quietly.
His assistant just gave him a sad look. Callan didn’t want to see it anymore, so he walked away and rejoined the party, a fake smile plastered on his face.
Chapter Thirty-Five
UFC championship fighter and bikini supermodel Michelle Rae announce the gender of their future child—it’s a girl!
Josie put her phone down and sighed. A daughter. Callan was having a daughter with his baby mama. Were they together? She wasn’t sure, but they certainly looked cozy in all the photos online from their gender-reveal party and baby shower.
“What?” Marcus glanced over from where he was seated at the conference table next to her while they waited for the rest of the meeting participants to show up.
She placed her phone facedown on the table. “Nothing.”
“Tell me you’re not stalking Walsh again,” Marcus warned, rolling his eyes.
She felt her cheeks heating. “No,” she lied.
“Jos, seriously? You’re just torturing yourself.”
“I know, okay? Let’s just focus on why we’re here.”
Marcus nodded and looked toward the conference room entrance. “They’re running late. It’s a fucking power move. You’re lucky I’m here instead of Ma, or she’d be out there trying to track them down.”
Her new manager, Marcus, was already excelling at the job in the short time since she’d brought him on board. Plus, her stress was significantly lowered not having to work directly with her mother. She loved her mother, but the two often butted heads on what they saw as Josie’s future.
“Hey, folks.” Jamie Sessions walked in with several older men in suits. “Sorry we’re a little late. Can we get you anything to drink?”
Josie shook her head. “No, thank you.”
Jamie introduced the other executives he was with, but as soon as he said their names, Josie promptly forgot them. It was just a room of stuffy white men who had control over her future. No big deal.
“So, let’s get started on why we’re here—Josie’s Kitchen.” Sessions passed around a stack of papers to everyone in the room. “We’ve got the first few episodes outlined. We’re expecting twenty-two episodes a season—thirty minutes each. Food Network has already agreed to give us the nine o’clock morning slot with potential for replays in the evening if ratings flourish.”
Josie raised her brows. “Wow.”
“We’ll be launching the premiere episode with a red-carpet event, a huge push on Instagram and Twitter, and we’ll be bringing celebrity guests on each episode to be your sous chef.”
“It looks like you have everything arranged,” Josie mused, lifting the papers in front of her and scanning through them. She paused when she got to the location section. “Wait a second…Burbank?”
“We’ll be filming in Burbank, five days a week,” Sessions confirmed.
“How will I keep working at Niro’s?” she asked, confused. She’d been told that doing this show wouldn’t disturb her current life and career.
“Uh, yeah…you’ll need to move to the Burbank area. We have a realtor set up and ready to work with you. She’s great and more than capable of finding you the perfect home.”
“But I live in Las Vegas. Why can’t we film here?”
“A number of reasons—lack of a studio, taxes, cast, et cetera.”
Marcus put a hand on hers. “We understand, but we’re going to need to think about it.”
Jamie looked startled. “Think about it?”
“Unless you’re willing to sweeten the pot,” Marcus countered.
The producer nodded, like he suddenly understood the power play he was currently involved in with her manager. “Moving expenses and down payment on house—covered.”
“That’s a start,” Marcus replied, this time leaning back.
Jamie looked at his business associates, who just gave him a small nod. “We can bump up the salary by ten percent.”
“Twenty-five and we’ll be closer to considering,” Marcus responded. “You pay your male television chefs that amount. Josie should be making the same thing.”
The producer inhaled deeply, looking frustrated but also a bit guilty. “We can do fifteen, but that’s as high as we go.”
“Come on, Josie.” Marcus turned to her and stood up from his chair, offering her a hand. “We’ve got another appointment to get to.”
Josie glanced up at him, standing awkwardly. She wasn’t really sure what was going on. Negotiations like this were not her strong suit. Plus, she wasn’t even sure she wanted the job. After all, did she want to leave Vegas?
“Okay, wait. Twenty-five,” Jamie caved. “We can do the twenty-five.”
“And executive producer credits in her name,” Marcus added, going for the jugular.
“Sure,” Jamie agreed, sighing as his lips were in a tight line. “We can make that work. I’ll have the contract redrawn and sent to you this week.”
Marcus reached out a hand to Jamie. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Jamie shook Marcus’s hand but didn’t look nearly as happy as he did. Jamie shook her hand next. “It was nice to see you again, Josie.”
“You as well,” she replied and then followed her brother out of the conference room.
The moment they got outside the building and out of ear shot of anyone who mattered, Marcus turned to her. “We did it!”
Josie grinned. “You did it. That was amazing, Marcus. You were meant to do this.”
“Thanks.” Marcus beamed as they walked to the car. “It was a rush. So now all we have to do is sign the papers when they come in, and you’re good to go for the next chapter of your life.”
She was quiet for a moment, and that seemed to give her away.
Her brother eyed her suspiciously. “Jos? Are you okay?”
“I just…I didn’t really think I’d have to move out of Vegas,” she replied, slightly forlorn at the idea.
Marcus shrugged his shoulders. “Most filming is in California, sis. I’ll move out there with you. You won’t be alone.”
“You will?” That did make her feel slightly better. The idea of being all alone on the West Coast was certainly not her ideal. But…she also couldn’t help but think about who she’d be closer to.
Los Angeles and Burbank were practically neighbors.
Did she really want to watch the man she’d fallen in love with raising another woman’s baby right in front of her when she couldn’t be with him? It sounded like torture.
Then again…this was an amazing business opportunity. And it wasn’t like she was going to run into him. They didn’t exactly run in the same circles. Although, she did recently strike up an amazing friendship with Callan’s assistant. They’d started chatting when she and Callan had been together and never let the breakup stop them from remaining friends.
“It won’t be so bad, sis,” Marcus assured her. “Plus, it’s only a four-hour drive back to Vegas to see the family. Hell, the distance between you and Ma is probably a good thing.”
Josie chuckled lightly. He wasn’t wrong. “You know, Callan lives in Los Angeles,” she admitted to her brother.
Marcus lifted one brow as he stared at her over the roof of the car before they both climbed into it. “Walsh? You’re not going to run into him. I promise as your manager that I’m going to keep him as far away from you as possible.”
“Why?” she asked, curious about her brother’s sudden passion for the topic.
Marcus put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space they were in after they’d both buckled their
seat belts. “That asshole left you to get another chick pregnant.”
“It’s not his fault. They were together before he and I were.” Josie suddenly felt the need to defend him. “We weren’t together when that happened. He’s doing the right thing by being there for his child.”
“Sure,” Marcus agreed. “He’d be a royal prick if he didn’t step up and take responsibility for what he did. But why were you two apart in the first place?”
Josie sighed. “Admittedly…that’s kind of on me. I left to go to cooking school.”
“And what? Phones don’t exist?”
Her brother had a point, but at the same time, she was the one who had been holding back the last few times they’d been together. Hell, before he’d found out about his impending fatherhood, Callan had made his intentions very clear to her. He’d told her he loved her—that he wanted to be with her for the rest of his life.
And she’d said nothing back to him.
She’d kept her feelings bottled up and hadn’t shared them with him.
Why?
Now she wasn’t so sure.
“I think I messed up, Marcus.” Her voice was low and strained, a lump starting to form in her throat as she replayed their last breakup in her mind.
He glanced sideways at her. “You really still have feelings for him? After all this time?”
Josie just nodded, staring out the window and watching the street pass her by.
“Well, that’s saying something, Jos.” Marcus reached over and patted her knee. “Maybe you should do something about that. Maybe you should talk to him.”
“Weren’t you just the one who called him an asshole?” Josie eyed her brother.
Marcus nodded. “I did, but I see it this way. You either need closure to move on and be happy in life…or he’s your happiness in life, he’s your person. Either way, it’s going to involve a conversation with him.”
She didn’t know when her little brother had become so wise and knowledgeable, but she was impressed, nevertheless.
“I need a plan,” she said, her brain already going into overdrive. She was going to come clean about her feelings for him. She was going to lay it all on the line and hope…pray…that he didn’t leave her shattered.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Don’t forget the nipple cream!” Michelle called out behind him as he walked toward the front door. “We’re going to need that once the baby comes.”
She was days away from giving birth, and her stomach was basically the size of a beach ball.
Callan nodded his head. “I won’t forget. I’ll be back with that tomorrow. Call me if anything happens in the meantime.”
“Tomorrow?” Michelle waddled into the main foyer of her house, following him. “What about tonight?”
“I’ve got meetings in the morning,” he reminded her. “I need to get a good night’s sleep.”
Staying up and rubbing her feet while she watched The Real Housewives of Orange County had been cutting into his sleep. He didn’t mind because he’d do anything to make her feel comfortable, but he was realizing that he needed to start setting some boundaries.
“What if I go into labor tonight?” Michelle continued, placing both hands on her hips. “You’re going to miss your own child’s delivery?”
“Michelle, I live five minutes away. My house is actually on the way to the hospital from here.”
She tilted her head to the side. “If you’re closer, then maybe I should stay at your house until the baby comes.”
Callan put his hand up between them. “Michelle, no. We’re not a couple. We’re not dating. You’re going to have to get used to being on your own sometime. I’m not going to be living here with you. We’re splitting custody—remember?”
Her chin jutted out, and she sized him up as her nostrils flared. “So, you’re just going to leave me to raise this baby on my own?”
“You know that’s not what I said. I’m going now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Call me if anything happens before then.” Callan headed for the door and walked out. He wasn’t about to start an irrational argument with a pregnant woman. He wasn’t going to cause her stress.
His phone began ringing in his pocket as he climbed into his car. He pulled it out and answered it while he was buckling his seat belt. “Hello?”
“Hey, Cal.” Samson’s voice rang through the other end of the line. “Do you have anywhere to be right now?”
“Uh, aren’t you my assistant? Shouldn’t you be telling me?” Callan said with a laugh as he placed the phone on the dashboard and pulled the car out onto the main road.
“That’s my way of saying I know your afternoon is clear and I need you to do something for me.”
Samson didn’t ask for a lot of favors, so Callan was pretty open to helping his friend when needed.
“Sure, bud. What’s up?”
“I’m going to text you an address. Can you meet me there? I’ll explain everything when you get there.”
Callan furrowed his brow. “I mean…I guess I can. What’s going on? Why the mystery?”
“It’s good. I promise. Just head there now.” Samson’s voice pulled away for a minute, and then Callan’s phone pinged with a new text message. “I just sent you the address. Bye!”
Samson hung up, and Callan stared at his phone, trying to figure out what the hell his assistant was up to. He placed the address into his GPS. He didn’t recognize it, but it was only about a twenty-minute drive. Turning up the radio, he settled in.
He couldn’t help but let his mind wander as he drove. There was a listlessness to his life recently. He was about to have a baby—it should be a joyous time in his life. And without a doubt, he was thrilled to become a father soon. He already loved his future daughter more than he could describe. His heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest every time he thought about holding her.
But there was a part of him that still felt…empty.
There seemed to be this fog over him that he just couldn’t shake, no matter what he did. Being around Michelle made it worse. She kept trying to paint them as this perfect little nuclear family, and he kept having to keep her at arm’s length. As much as he wanted a happy family for his future daughter, it couldn’t be with someone he didn’t love. He wasn’t going to model a loveless marriage or relationship for his daughter. No, he wanted her to see fire and passion and unconditional love at its best.
His mind drifted back to the one time he’d ever felt that in his life. At the next red light, he pulled open Josie’s Instagram page and scanned through her photos. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, and she looked incredibly happy in every shot. Her most recent photo was of her lying on a pile of cardboard boxes. The caption read new beginnings #mood.
He wondered what that meant. He wanted to reach out to her and text her, ask her what was new with her, but he didn’t. It seemed too intrusive. After all, their separation was his fault. He’d hoped they could have stayed friends, but…it just seemed too hard. Talking to her felt painful—a reminder of what he’d lost.
Returning his phone to the dashboard, he drove to see Samson. Strangely enough, his assistant was meeting him in a residential neighborhood just outside of Burbank. Callan wondered if Samson was looking at houses, because sure, he paid him well, but he wasn’t sure he paid him enough to live in this type of neighborhood.
Pulling up to the address, he looked at a large navy-blue house with white shutters. It wasn’t the largest house in the neighborhood, but it was still impressively sized. The front yard was covered in grass and intricate landscaping. It was absolutely beautiful, and sure enough, there was a sign on the front lot that read Sold.
Samson had bought himself a house.
Callan climbed out of the car and walked up to the front door. He rang the bell and then waited, taking a step back.
The door swung open after a moment, and a woman stepped into view.
Not just any woman—Josie. His Josie.
“Hi,” she greeted him shyly, looking up at him from under long black lashes.
“Jos?” He was completely confused. “Is…is Samson here? I was meeting him.”
She shook her head. “He told you to come here for me. He’s not here.”
“Oh.” Callan pushed his hands into his pockets, unsure where to go from here or what to say.
“Do you want to come in?” She gestured toward the inside of the house.
He nodded and stepped over the threshold into the foyer. “Whose house is this?” he asked, looking around at the cozy and warm interior. “It’s really nice.”
“Thank you,” she responded. “Um…it’s actually mine. I just bought it.”
He swirled around to look at her. “You live here now?”
She bit the corner of her lip. “I do.”
Excitement flooded him. He wanted to throw his arms around her and swing her around, begging her to be with him. He wanted to get rid of everything that had happened in the last two years and just be themselves again. Just be who they’d been when they’d first met.
But he said nothing. He’d been down that road before. He’d tried to push her into a relationship, and she’d never budged. She’d kept her feelings locked down tighter than Fort Knox, and he knew better than to try to infiltrate her walls again.
“Welcome to the neighborhood,” he simply replied.
She stared at him for a moment and then gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”
“What am I doing here, Jos?” he finally asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“I wanted to show you something,” she replied. “Come with me.”
He followed her up the stairs and down a hallway to a wing of bedrooms. There were still boxes everywhere, and it was clear that she was still in the process of unpacking everything. He didn’t blame her one bit, but it made for some maneuvering as they worked their way around the stacks everywhere.
Finally, she opened a door to her left and motioned for him to go inside. Furrowing his brow, he walked past her and into the room. He immediately stopped in his steps and took in everything he was seeing. The walls had been painted a soft pink—different from the rest of the house, which was traditionally white. There was a crib against the back wall, and a fabric rocking chair in the corner. In fact, it had everything one would need for a baby. The room was move-in-ready for a little girl.
Misadventures in the Cage Page 18
