I believed that if people were following me around and taking pictures, I would be more careful. Drake Winslow had a reputation as a womanizing asshole. There was a reason for that.
"I'm sorry, Jackie. I just have to believe it. There's truth in everything. All those pictures of him with models, starlets, anything he can get his paws on." I sighed. "He's probably just going through a slump or something and decided to slum it with the local fatty."
"Stop that! You are not fat. Jeez, what is it with you?"
"Shut up. Really, hearing from the skinny girl that I'm not fat is not high on my list right now."
"I'm just saying you should really look at yourself. You don't see what other people see."
"Please stop. A lecture isn't what I brought you along for."
"Fine, I'm just saying." She was quiet for a little while before speaking again. "Have you heard from him?"
I pulled out my cell phone and showed her all the inbound calls from Drake. I listened to the couple of messages he left, the first one asking if something happened that I had to leave, the last one saying I wouldn't hear from him anymore. It had been a couple of days since he called, and I had to admit I wished he kept calling.
"I don't want to talk to him. I'm telling you, it’s a waste of time. I'd rather remember that night for what it was--a booty call."
"Booty calls aren't romantic, Sam. You know that."
She was right. I secretly hated her for five seconds for being so right about everything.
He confused me. The night was romantic. The whole museum after hours with the set was the most perfect thing. And here I was calling him a womanizer and saying I was a booty call when I was the one who said we should go back to his place.
Maybe he was being honest. He admitted to mistakes in his past, maybe he really was trying to change. It didn't make sense though. Why would he want to change and have a relationship with me? There were so many other women in his world, he had his choice, why me? I could never compare.
"Maybe I should call him."
We came to the end of the aisle and just as I turned the cart towards the next aisle, something caught my eye. Ahead of me were the checkout lanes and at the end of each lane were all the tabloids. It wasn't like me to really pay much attention to them, but this one had bright red letters on the cover that read "Who is Drake's mystery girl?" In the photo underneath was definitely Drake, but he was kissing a woman.
Leaving the cart, I beelined to the magazine and flipped to the article. My stomach dropped as I looked at the girl in the picture. She wasn't thin, she had curves. She was a little thinner than me, but still. She was plus sized for sure.
I skimmed through the article and found out he met her for lunch when he was out of town. The pictures were taken two days ago. The same day as his last voicemail.
"I guess I was right, I was nothing to him. He's just a chubby chaser."
Jackie was looking at her phone when her face turned white. "I gotta go, Sam." Her voice trembled.
"What's wrong?"
"It’s Ashley. They had to rush her to the hospital."
"I'll take you."
Chapter Forty-Three
Drake
As I looked through the mail that arrived in my absence, I heard my phone beep on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, I saw I had a text from Xander.
"Ashley is in the ER. Please come. We need to talk."
Without a second thought, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. I sped to the hospital and parked in one of the doctors’ reserved spaces. I didn't care if they towed my car, I had to make sure everything was okay with Ashley. She looked a little pale earlier on the flight home, but I disregarded it as nerves. A lot of people had issues with flying.
The nurse's station was crowded with people trying to get answers about their loved ones. I pushed my way through to the front, spotted a pretty young nurse wearing pink scrubs with her blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and smiled when I caught her eye. She rushed over.
"Oh my lord, you're Drake--"
"Shhh darling. Listen, I need a huge favor. My friend Ashley Boone is here in your ER, and I need to check on her. Could you tell me where I can find her?"
"Oh yes, anything for you." She smiled at me and I knew she would let me do whatever I wanted to in a closet or back room, but I wasn't interested. "She's in the room at the end of this hall."
"Thank you, sweetheart."
"I'm Lorraine, ask for me if you need anything. And I mean anything."
I ran down the hall without answering her. I heard Xander yelling for answers at another nurse's station and then saw him return to Ashley's room. I remembered what he went through with his first wife. I was sure being in the hospital she died in was bringing all of that back for him.
As I approached the door, a male doctor with short curly grey hair wearing green scrubs entered Ashley's room. Peeking inside the room, I saw Ashley sitting up on a hospital bed, looking much better, and Xander sitting beside her, holding her hand. I decided to sit on a metal chair by the door and wait, not wanting to delay the results any further. I could faintly hear what the doctor was telling them.
"I'm sorry for the delay, but we wanted to make sure we got all the test results back."
"Doctor, I want you to just be blunt. Don't mince words, just get to the point. What's wrong with her? Why has she been so sick lately? It’s cancer, isn't it?"
The doctor laughed, and I thought I heard Xander growl like he does when someone upsets him. "No, she's not really sick at all. She'll be fine in a couple of months."
"A couple of months? Is that how long the treatment is going to take?"
"Mr. Boone, if you would stop interrupting me, I would like to tell you and your wife that you're about to have a baby."
"She's pregnant?"
The happy sound in Xander's voice and Ashley's sudden giggle was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I leaned forward so I could hear a little better.
"Yes, what she's experiencing is called hyperemesis gravidarum, or extreme morning sickness. Ashley, you just need to relax. Try to eat when you can. Even just little meals or snacks. You're about 6 weeks pregnant and this could last until your fourth month. So congratulations! I'll be back with your discharge papers."
After the doctor left the room, I leaned over to peek into the room again. Xander and Ashley were tightly hugging each other. I didn't want to disturb them, so I got up to leave. Whatever Xander needed to talk about could wait for another time.
As I walked down the hall towards the front of the ER, I saw Jackie and Samantha enter. I tried to stop Jackie as she ran past, obviously concerned, but she wouldn't listen. Samantha turned around and beelined to the door.
"You're not even going to talk to me? We've known each other our whole lives, and now you're going to act like this?"
"This is how I’ve always acted towards you. I don't like you, remember?"
"That's not how it seemed the other night." I walked beside her as she approached the door.
"Just forget about the other night. It was a mistake. No, it wasn't a mistake, it was great. It was perfect. The perfect ending to the crappy story of us. We both got what we wanted. Why complicate things?"
"What are you talking about? I told you how I feel about you. I want us to spend more time together. I want to get to know you better."
"Listen Drake, we were never meant to be. Everything from the beginning pointed to that. You like your women and that's fine, keep them. I'm not a piece of meat."
"I know you're not, I never treated you like you were a piece of meat. I don't understand."
"I'm not stupid. What we had was physical, nothing more, nothing less. Thanks for the great night, but now it’s time for me to move on."
"You're not even giving me a chance, Samantha. Don't I at least deserve that?"
I followed her out of the hospital, and immediately the paparazzi swarmed around me. I damned myself for flirting to get the information I needed. I s
hould've known better. The nurse must have called them. I continued to follow Samantha, who picked up her pace as she pushed through the cameramen.
"Drake! Is Ashley Boone your mystery girl? Is that your baby?" Yelled a nearby photographer with a copy of his tabloid that featured a photograph of Ashley and I kissing.
Ignoring him, I reached out for Samantha's arm.
"Leave me alone!" She spun around and stared at me, her eyes wild and red as tears spilled down her cheeks. "This! All of this is why we can never be, Drake." She yanked her arm away from me. "I could never trust you. I would never know what's real with you."
"But Samantha, let me explain."
"Save it for someone who cares," she shot back as she ran towards the parking lot.
I knew she didn't want to be chased, so I let her go. Devastated, I stood on the sidewalk as the paparazzi surrounded me again, yelling their questions as flashbulbs popped in my face.
Samantha needed to calm down before I could talk to her. I had to figure out some way I could see her. I knew she wanted nothing to do with me, but she didn't understand I wasn't that man anymore. There was only one woman on my mind and the more I saw her, the more I learned about her, the more I fell for her. I would get my chance with her if it was the last thing I did.
Part Four
Drake and Samantha
Chapter Forty-Four
Samantha
As I hurried towards the hospital parking lot, tears spilled onto my cheeks. I needed to get away from Drake as quickly as possible and considered myself lucky when he stopped following me. My temper had gotten the best of me. Why did he have this effect on me?!
Wiping my tears with the back of my hand made me even angrier. How could I cry in front of him? Of all people! I turned back towards the hospital when the raised voices I tuned out became louder.
"Drake! Is Ashley Boone your mystery girl? Is that your baby?"
Photographers surrounded Drake as he stood where I left him near the hospital entrance. He towered over most of them. The front of his dirty blond hair fell onto his forehead and he ran his fingers through it, pushing it back in a useless attempt.
He wasn't looking towards me. His head was down as if he was deep in thought as they yelled their questions at him about his love life. I felt bad for him. How ridiculous that they were trying to make him Ashley's baby daddy...but didn't I believe most of what they published about him?
I shook my head. "I'm an idiot! Why do I keep pushing him away?" I said to myself.
Heading back towards them, I noticed Drake's expression change. Gone was the pensive look, it was replaced by narrowed brown eyes and a fierceness I didn't recognize. His look stopped me in my tracks.
In an instant, he reached out and grabbed one of the photographer 's cameras, yanked it out of his hands, and hurled it down onto the concrete.
"Get the hell away from me!" he growled fiercely.
As the one photographer knelt on the ground to pick up the remains of his camera, the others swarmed Drake. I noticed the flex of his biceps through his suit jacket and was reminded of our night in the museum.
While my mind wandered, a photographer stumbled away from Drake. He must've pushed him! I couldn't believe this was the Drake I grew up with. This wasn't anything like the man I thought I knew. I couldn't help but like it.
I picked up my pace as I got closer. Drake had managed to break away from the throng of paparazzi and was using his long legs to walk towards his car haphazardly parked in a reserved doctor's space. There was no way I could catch up.
"Wait! Drake!" I called out as I waved to him.
"Are you Drake Winslow's mystery love? I have a hunch the photo of him kissing Ashley Boone was a plant to draw attention away from the truth."
Standing beside me was a frail looking woman around my age, with pin-straight black hair. I didn't know what she was doing or what she was talking about. I only knew she was keeping me from Drake. I had to reach him.
"Go away," I hissed at her as I walked even faster towards him.
"What's your name? You were at the museum the other night, weren't you? I checked the guest list and you weren't on there. Are you the help? Is Drake slumming it with you?"
All the fury I felt growing up in that mansion suddenly peaked. Her question brought back all my insecurities. She was right. Drake was way out of my league. But she didn't have to point it out.
As my hands balled up into fists, Drake got into his car and sped away. I was even more upset to miss him.
"What did you say to me?" I asked her.
"Are you the help? Did Drake hire you to work at the museum? Maybe he's gotten lazy--"
Without thinking, my fist shot up and hit her face. I felt the soft spongy feel of her skin against my knuckles, and before I came back to my senses, I watched blood gush from her nose.
"Oh! I…I…oh my..." I stammered.
"You bitch! I think you broke my nose!"
"Sam!" Jackie came running out of the hospital, put her arm around me, and began pushing me back towards the parking lot. "Let's get out of here."
"But I--"
"She had to have it coming for you to hit her. Don't worry about it."
I looked over at Jackie as she drove to my apartment and thought about the difference between us. She would've kept her cool. She was a lot like her straight, brown, perfect ponytail and I was the mess of wild red hair. Funny how our hair matched our personalities.
"Sorry about that."
"Hey, you didn't hit me, no need to apologize," she said then laughed. "What on earth happened?"
"Drake--"
"Enough said. When are you going to admit you love him?"
"What? No!"
Sitting quietly the rest of the ride home, I thought about what she said. I used to think I loved Drake, but that was years ago. A childhood crush. He barely knew I existed back then. And yet...
Drake inspired some of the most dramatic and passionate feelings I ever felt for or about anyone. Could it be possible that while I convinced myself I hated him, I was hiding my own true emotions? Feelings I thought were childish but never left despite growing up?
I didn't know the answer to that. I only knew I hadn't been able to get him out of my head for years. Just when I got over him, he re-entered my life and wanted to get to know me better and date me. He was all I thought about again.
Chapter Forty-Five
Drake
I was done. Samantha Mayfair got her wish--I would leave her alone.
Driving away from the hospital, I thought over what happened. It wasn't the first time I lost my temper with the paparazzi, and I was certain it wouldn't be the last. I didn't care about that though. I knew I could throw some money at that photographer whose camera I destroyed and the mess would go away.
Samantha was where my thoughts really were. I vowed I would get my chance with her, but maybe I should accept what she said. Maybe we weren't meant to be. She certainly made her feelings clear. She did not want to be with me.
Driving into the city towards the tall glass building my offices were in, I knew I needed a distraction. I had to do something to get my mind off her.
I entered the building and rode the elevator up to my floor. My mind settled on getting into my office and making a few phone calls. I knew just the thing I needed to put me in a better mood.
"Mr. Winslow!" Becky, one of my assistants, said as I blew past her. "Mr. Winslow, please!"
"Not now, Becky," I spoke between gritted teeth.
Becky Spooner had blonde hair, blue eyes, and tanning-bed skin. Her wrinkled face didn't give away her age, instead it added to the confusion. She could be twenty, she could be sixty. I couldn't tell. But she never seemed very comfortable in her skin, and her voice shook when she spoke.
"It’s Mr. Harding. He's on hold for you. He said he won't hang up until he speaks with you."
"Fine, put him through."
As I entered my office, I heard Becky put the call through to my
office phone. I closed the large door behind me and hung my dark gray suit jacket on a hanger.
The sun streaming through the windows made me think of the beach. Natural light was the only reason I chose this office. Setting my long desk by the window gave me the opportunity to watch the city below while managing things. I'd give anything to not be in the office, but I had a company to run and hundreds of people relying on me for a paycheck.
Pressing the speakerphone button, I sat down and put my feet up on the desk then loosened my black silk tie as I leaned back into my plush chair.
"Liam, this better be good."
"It is, Drake. I'm almost done casting Age of Vanity. I know you wanted to start production this month."
"Excellent. Yes, perfect timing. I could use the distraction. What parts are left?"
"Lady Westminster and a few bit parts."
"Hmm, Lady Westminster…find a redhead. And none of those scrawny actresses you're always hiring."
"But Drake, that part requires a lot of nudity."
"Even more of a reason for her to not be skinny. It's a period piece. She shouldn't be thin. She needs lots of cleavage for those dresses. Trust me, she needs curves." I paused a moment as I pushed Samantha out of my head. "And make sure she's single."
Liam laughed. "That's the old Drake I know. Been a long time since I got a request like this. Do you have anyone in mind?"
Yes, Samantha. "No, I trust your judgement."
Hanging up, I turned on the plasma TV built into the wall and turned on the news with the volume muted. The reporter played a video of my smashing the camera and storming away. I sighed. Seeing myself on the news like that wasn't something a person could get used to. At least I couldn't.
As I reached for the remote to turn off the television, I realized they were playing another video from outside the hospital. Surprised by what I saw, I stood up, rewound, and watched it again. I laughed the third time I watched as Samantha punched the reporter and took the TV off mute.
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