“Really?”
“Yeah, with whipped cream and sliced strawberries.”
“Man,” he said, smacking his lips. “Too bad. It’s probably better, though. Who knows what kind of trouble that could have caused? Antonio could have had an aneurysm, or something. He tickled my sides, and I squirmed to get away.
Jerry Springer reruns played on a TV somewhere. The screaming and censored bleeps from the show could be heard echoing throughout the corridors. It was earsplitting.
“Oh geez,” I said, digging out my iPhone and handing an earbud to Chris. “There’s got to be something better to listen to.” He chuckled and leaned his head back against the wall while I shuffled through my music. I came to an Elvis song. “Here, you should like this one.”
Chris pulled me into his chest. “I’m surprised you have this.”
“You said he was your favorite. I checked him out. He’s not all that bad.”
He pressed his cheek against mine and softly sang about sweet, tender love and never letting me go. He continued to sing over the hum of the cold hospital lights, but we could have been on the moon, for all I cared. His voice was hypnotic, barley above a whisper.
I relaxed against him, curving myself into his chest and letting all the excitement of the day go. My eyes grew heavy, and I felt my conscious mind slipping. There wasn’t anywhere in the world I’d rather have been.
A different song was playing when Chris shook me awake.
Antonio was coming down the hall, wearing a smile only a proud, new father could. “It’s a girl,” he said, breathless. “Seven pounds, six ounces, and twenty-one inches long.”
“Congratulations! How are they?” I asked, getting up from off the floor.
“They’re great. They’re being moved to another room right now. Her parents are with her, but you can go in.”
We found Lauren, along with her parents and Antonio, all gathered in the maternity room. Lauren was in the bed, simply glowing as she held a little pink bundle.
“Oh, my gosh, she’s beautiful,” I said, running my finger across one of the baby’s chubby cheeks.
“I think she’s pretty perfect.” Lauren handed her to me, and I cradled the sleeping beauty in my arms, pulling her up close.
“She smells so good. What did you name her?”
“Kylie. Kylie Elizabeth.”
I peered down into the tiny, wrinkled little face. “Hi, Kylie. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” My eyes welled up. She was so beautiful and innocent. “I think you’re right, Lauren. She is perfect. Want to hold her, Chris?”
He was leaning against the wall, a soft smile on his lips. “No, you go ahead.”
We didn’t stay for much longer. Everyone was exhausted, especially Lauren, so we gave them our best wishes and said ‘goodbye’. It was a little past two when the cab pulled up to my building.
“That’s really incredible, isn’t it?” Chris said before I climbed out. “I remember when Hannah used to be that small.”
“Hannah?”
He nodded. “My niece. You just forget how tiny they are, don’t you?”
“Definitely,” I agreed, remembering when Emily had first had Molly. I had thought her perfect, too. “Want to come up? We could still have dessert. Chocolate mousse, or otherwise…”
He let his head fall against the headrest. “You don’t know how good that sounds. But I better get back to the hotel. It’s really late, and we’ve got an early practice. Tomorrow?” He looked at me hopefully.
“Okay,” I said, not hiding my disappointment.
***
Emily, Molly and I were huddled on the couch late Sunday morning. Molly was watching Loony Toons, I was reading Pride and Prejudice, one of my favorites, and Emily was on my laptop, getting her weekly fill of celebrity gossip.
“Um, you should look at this,” she said, pointing to the screen.
“You know I don’t read that garbage. It’s mostly just a bunch of lies, anyway,” I said without looking up. I was at my favorite part in the story, Mr. Darcy was about to ask Elizabeth to dance at Mr. Bingley’s ball.
“Yeah, I know, but I really think you might want to see this one.” Her voice was insistent.
At first, I only glanced to satisfy Emily, but, recognizing myself, I did a double take. A picture of Chris and I covered the screen. We were walking out of Target, him carrying the car seat, and me tucking my wallet into my purse. A giant red arrow had been inserted into the picture, and it pointed right to my stomach. The headline read: Big Expectations for Chris and Allison?
“What the hell? Give me that!” I forgot about my novel and reached for the computer. “I can’t believe it. I never even saw a camera.”
Emily laughed. “Those reporters are ruthless. That’s what makes it so fun.”
I was not as amused. “It’s such an invasion of privacy. Why would anyone care about this?” I scrolled down to look at the rest. There was a picture of him pulling the car seat out of the box, one of me in the car tugging at the straps, and another of us leaning against the rail of a cart return stall.
If the pictures were upsetting, the comments people had posted were downright insulting. Jen212 from Tallahassee wrote, Chris could do so much better, why would he waste his time with her? Someone calling herself Starluvr replied, It’s probably not even his.
“They don’t even know me!” I was outraged.
“When you’re dating the latest heartthrob, people get curious,” Emily said. “And judgmental.”
“How do you leave a comment?” I scrolled down the page, but Emily grabbed the computer.
“I wouldn’t do that,” she warned. “It would just make it worse.”
I decided she was probably right. “I wonder if Chris has seen it.” I pulled out my phone and called him.
He hadn’t. “Nope, I had no idea we were being followed,” he said. “But it is kind of funny, don’t you think?” I had only told him about the pictures. I hadn’t shared the comments.
“I don’t see anything funny about it. They’re insinuating that I’m carrying your child.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Let me make it up to you. I’ll take you out tonight, somewhere special.”
My mood brightened at the thought. “Where?”
“You’ll see. Just wear something nice, I’ll pick you up at eight.”
***
The cab pulled up to the Ford Center for the Performing Arts. “Seriously?” I squealed, gazing out at the flashy marquee. I was excited. The only kind of theater I’d ever been to was the movies. “What are we gonna see?”
“Billy Elliot.”
“Didn’t that just come out? I read the review this morning, it sounds fantastic.”
“Sure did,” he said with a grin.
A crowd of reporters greeted us just outside the doors, and I was blinded by bright flashes and bombarded with questions. “What is the nature of your relationship with Chris Knots?” reporters shouted. “How would you best describe your association with the Superstars?”
I couldn’t believe they hadn’t asked if I was pregnant.
Chris handled it like a pro, smiling coolly and shaking his head. When they continued to press, Chris took my hand and pulled me into the theater.
“Wow!” he said with wide eyes. “Who knew my love life would be so interesting?”
“Yeah, who knew,” I mumbled, turning to look at the still flashing cameras.
Chris handed the usher our tickets, and we were escorted all the way down to row C of the orchestra section. “These are amazing,” I whispered once we got settled into our center row seats. “How did you get these tickets?”
He patted my arm. “Life in celebrity row isn’t all bad.”
The orchestra began, and the thick curtains opened. I was totally entranced for the duration of the nearly three-hour production. I laughed, nearly cried, and was on my feet when it was over.
“Than
ks for that,” I said as Chris and I walked, arm-in-arm, out of the theater. “I really enjoyed it.”
“You are most definitely welcome,” he said. “Now, let me get you home.”
Chapter 22
I’d been more than a little upset when Emily had showed me the pictures from the Target parking lot. I dealt with it, though, consoling myself that the pictures were, at least, contained to a small, specific audience. Only those who logged on to that website would see them. But, when I saw my face on the front of several newspapers the next day, I was absolutely furious.
The pictures were of Chris and me at the theatre, and the headlines read, Is this the future for Knots? And, Allison Banks? What’s the Catch?
That evening’s Superstardom didn’t do much to boost my mood. Tears pooled in my eyes when the judges announced that Melody had to go. Now I didn’t have any students. Or a job.
My phone rang as I was getting ready for bed. It was Paul. Seriously? Could the day get any worse?
I didn’t bother with a greeting. “Why are you calling me?”
“Well, hello to you, too.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to know what you’re doing. What are you thinking?”
“What are you talking about?”
He snickered. “Imagine my surprise when I got to work this morning and saw your face plastered all over the front of the entertainment section. You, Allison Banks, the camera-shy, never-been-kissed girl from Chicago, dating Mr. Superstardom himself.”
I pulled off my socks and crawled into bed. “And?”
“It’s not like you. I had to hear it for myself. You and Knots, is this for real?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but, yes, we’re seeing each other.”
“And it’s going well?”
“It is.” Where is this conversation going?
“Let me ask you one more thing,” he said. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what do you think will happen when the show’s over? Do you honestly think he’ll stick around?”
“I don’t see how-”
Paul interrupted me. “Is it possible he’s just using you? You know, as a personal plaything, while he’s in town?” He paused before continuing, “I’m just trying to keep it real. I care about you. Don’t let yourself get hurt.”
I buried my face in my pillow to keep from screaming. What kind of an arrogant, self-serving prick was this guy? What had I ever seen in him?
“Chris would never do that,” I finally said. “He’s not like you. He doesn’t just run away from things.”
Paul’s voice dropped by several decibels. “I’ve apologized for that. I tried to explain. Please, Allison, just be careful.”
“You lost the right to give me advice the day you left. Goodnight, Paul. Don’t call me again.” I hung up before he could say anything else.
***
I went to the studio the next morning to clean out my classroom. It was amazing how much stuff had accumulated in the few short months I’d been there. I was reaching up into a high cabinet when someone said my name.
“Allison?”
I jumped and turned around to see who it was. “Yes? Oh, hi, Mr. Doveland. I didn’t hear you come in.”
He smiled warmly. “I wanted to stop by and thank you for your time here. The kids greatly benefited from all your hard work.”
“Thank you. It was a lot of fun. I really enjoyed being here.”
He looked around and sat down at one of the desks. “There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
“Okay.”
“It’s come to my attention that you and Chris have recently become,” he cleared his throat, “close.”
“Yes, we have,” I said cautiously, wondering where this conversation was leading.
“Right.” He frowned and looked at his folded hands. “Well, I think there are some things that need to be considered before your…” he hesitated again, “…relationship goes any further.”
I shook my head, not seeing his point. “I’m sorry, what are you trying to say?”
“You’re a smart girl, Allison. And if you really care for Chris, which I think you do, you’ll understand what I’m telling you.” His eyes narrowed, and he looked at me seriously. “The most important thing for him right now is to stay focused on the competition. There are only three performers left, and he can’t afford to be distracted. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Well, yes, but…”
He cut me off. “We also have his image to consider.” Resting his folded hands on top of the desk, he leaned forward. “The harsh reality is that male celebrities are more popular when single. Relationships tend to,” he studied my face, “bring down the public’s opinion.”
It took a minute for me to see what he was getting at. When I spoke, I kept my voice low and even. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Doveland, but I assure you that I am not distracting Chris from his work. And, honestly, I don’t think he cares what peoples’ opinions are about our relationship.”
He leaned back in the chair and frowned. “You know him well, don’t you? I only say that because that’s exactly what he told me when I discussed this with him earlier. Which is why I’m here now, talking to you. I was hoping you’d have a more open mind about this.”
I cringed at the idea of him having this conversation with Chris.
“You have a different frame of mind,” he explained, “a different perception than he does. I know you’ll do the right thing.” He patted my hand before getting up. “Enjoy your time off. I hope you’ll join us again next season.”
I stared out into the hall after he left, the reality of his words sinking in. It was as though a heavy veil had been lifted from my eyes. Part of me always knew Chris was too good to be true, but I had convinced myself to let the relationship happen anyway. It felt nice to be a part of something real. But, there was truth to Mr. Doveland’s words, and I sulked in their cruel reality.
Male performers really were better off single. Was it possible that Chris would lose the competition, because of me? Or worse yet, if he did win, would I just be dead weight, dragging down his career? I’d gotten so caught up in the now that I’d never considered the future.
My life these past few weeks was the best it had been in a very long time. Even though I hadn’t admitted it to anyone besides my mother’s cold grave, I knew I was falling for Chris. He made me happy. He helped me forget the pain of the past.
My shoulders slumped as this new burden took residence upon my conscience.
Not wanting to spend another second in the building, I got up to gather the rest of my things. Picking up my box, I put on my sunglasses, took one last look around the empty room, and closed the door.
Jake passed me in the hall. He nearly skidded to a stop and took the heavy load from my arms. “Here, let me get that for you.”
“Thanks.”
He peeked in the box and pulled out a stapler. “What’s all this for?”
“My stuff. I cleaned out my room.”
“Why?”
I looked at him from over the top of my dark sunglasses. “Think about it, Jake. Who got voted off last night?”
I could almost see the wheels turning as he put the pieces together. “Oh, shit!” He shook his head, giving me a worried look. “So, that’s it, then? Melody’s out, so you’re gone?”
“Yep, that’s it. No kids, no reason for me to stick around.”
“That totally sucks.” He looked at me hopefully. “But, hey, it’s not like your leaving, right? You’ll still be around, and we can hang out.”
“Of course.” I tried to sound cheerful, but regret was heavy in my voice.
When I got home, I got a text from Chris:
Call me when you get a chance
My stomach flipped. Was this it? Had Mr. Doveland gotten through to him?
My head hung. I was living my own fantasy, and it went against all rules of nature. I hesitated before dialing his number.
&n
bsp; “Allie!” Loud music played in the background.
“Hi. I got your message. What’s up?” I swallowed hard, forcing down the lump that was working its way up my throat.
“Hang on a sec.” I heard some shuffling, and the music was turned down. “Sorry, I was doing some research,” he explained. “Have you cleaned out your room yet? I meant to come by and help, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be there.”
“Yeah. I just got back,” I said, glancing at the box by the door.
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “That’s good, I guess. At least it’s done, right?”
“Sure.”
I listened to a few seconds of silence. “Wanna come over on Friday night?” he asked. “We could just hang out here, have dinner, and play video games.”
Despite my recent misgivings, I smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”
I found that I had a lot more time to myself since I no longer had to go to the studio each day. There were still three more weeks before my summer classes began, so I spent several hours over the next few days lounging around the apartment and doing nothing of importance.
On Friday, I went to the hotel to meet Chris. After crawling out of the cab, I stood across the street and glared at the unyielding mob of reporters. Lately, the media had started hanging out by the building to snap pictures of the Stars as they came and went. These pictures appeared everywhere- the local news, the tabloids, even the popular, prime-time celebrity shows.
My shoulders tingled as stress knotted its way through my muscles. Ignoring it, I took a deep breath and ducked my head, making haste towards the hotel’s entrance. Reporters crowded around me, blocking my path. Cameras flashed around all sides. “Allison Banks! Can we have a word with you?” they called.
It was dizzying. I nudged past them and made my way into the safe haven of the lobby. Thank God the reporters weren’t allowed past the front doors.
Chris was there, waiting for me. “Make it through the pack of wolves okay?” he asked, glancing at the mob.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, following his gaze. I despised their attentions, but decided I could suffer through it as long as I got to be with Chris. Besides, they’d eventually find someone more interesting and leave me alone, right?
Face The Music Page 21