by Sierra Rose
“Yes,” I tried not to sound as anxious as I felt, “first one.”
Her eyes dilated hungrily, but she instinctively softened her features with a strategically calming smile. “Well, it’s going to be a breeze. I’m just going to ask you a few questions, mostly about you and Marcus. Where did you two meet, tell us a little about the proposal, things like that. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to throw in a few about the upcoming wedding?”
For the first time, I longed for Billings. “Um, yeah, that will be fine. There’s not much to say yet, I’m afraid. You’d be better off asking my mother.”
She threw back her head and laughed like I’d just said the funniest thing in the whole world. Amanda and I shot each other concerned glances, but were quick to join in the second she looked back our way. When we’d quieted down, she put an awkward hand on my shoulder.
“Well, we’ve got about ten minutes, then they’ll call you out to the stage. Try to ignore the audience and look at me. Like we’re just having a talk in your living room.”
“Okay.” I tucked my hair behind my ear with a nervous smile. “Thanks.”
She beamed back. “In the meantime, help yourself to some breakfast. Don’t want to be going into this with a ton of nerves and low blood sugar.” She laughed again and patted me goodbye, but before she left, I could have sworn her eyes flickered down to my stomach.
When she was gone, Amanda and I turned for the first time to the little buffet that had been set up in the corner. The second I saw it, my heart stopped.
“Mimosas, champagne, brie, oysters…” Amanda turned to me in shock. “She’s not very subtle, is she?”
“We should get Billings in here,” I muttered, backing away from the table. “We’re going to have to change our game plan if we don’t eat these.” A sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I ran for the bathroom, making it just in time.
Precisely ten minutes later, I was led by a wide-eyed tech out to the edge of the stage to wait for my introduction. As I peered out past the curtain at the swollen audience, a wild flurry of nerves made me almost lightheaded. I reached back for some kind of support, and found myself latched onto Billings of all people.
Rather than pulling away, he leaned closer, turning me to face him and putting two steady hands on my shoulders. “Deep breaths,” he instructed, guiding me through a pair. “You’re going to be fine. Just don’t forget to keep breathing.”
“What if I…what if I forget my cue cards?” I whispered anxiously.
“If you forget your cue cards, then just start talking. Let them see a bit of that sparkling Rebecca White personality. You’ll win them over in no time.”
I looked up at him in surprise, and I could have sworn I saw him wink.
“You are the girl who stole the heart of Marcus Taylor, after all.” He flashed me a quick smile in the darkness. “No amount of PR fabrication is ever going to change that.”
I felt almost bonded to him. Up until the very moment he stuck his hands down my bodice to pull up the front of my dress.
Did the man have no boundaries?
I wheedled away from his prying hands with a scowl just as I heard my name.
“That’s it,” the tech whispered to me, “you’re on!”
He half shoved me out onto the stage, but thanks to a lifetime of recovering from public stumbles, I caught myself just in time and walked gracefully out to the center to meet my blonde executioner. She smiled widely and gestured for me to sit on one of the two plush love seats that had been angled toward each other. As I settled in, I peered out for the first time past the blinding lights and rows of seats. Sure enough, there was Marcus, just where he promised.
He wasn’t sitting with the general crowd, in fact, for perhaps the first time since I’d met him, he wasn’t dressed for the occasion. Instead of going with slacks and dress shirts like the rest of the men there, he was wearing jeans and a baseball cap. For good measure, he’d left on his sunglasses despite the darkened studio. Even from a distance, I could tell he was proud of his efforts. Probably thought it was the best version of incognito.
I flashed him a small grin, then turned back to the interviewer. There was a little microphone pinned to the top of my dress, and I was hyper-aware of the fact that it could pick up everything—from my pounding heart to my frantic breathing. Taking Billings’ advice, I leaned back deliberately in my chair and took a few deep breaths.
“So, Rebecca,” she leaned forward with a smile, “before we really get started, I just have to ask: how did you do it?”
My body froze, but I kept on a polite smile. “Do what?”
She raised her eyebrows skeptically. “World’s most famous bachelor. Famous lady’s man. Net worth of over fourteen billion dollars… How did you get Marcus Taylor?”
My blood rose to a boil, but for the first time, I actually started to relax.
So this was how the game was played, was it?
“Oh, Wendy,” I laughed. “I think the question is, how did Marcus Taylor land me?”
The crowd roared in approval, and Marcus himself flashed me a little smile. Instead of being put out, the interviewer actually rose to the occasion with genuine excitement. The lights shined down upon us, and she pulled her chair closer to mine.
The show was afoot.
We bantered back and forth for the better part of an hour, dancing around the weightier issues and focusing on the charming, lighthearted stuff.
Favorite gift: a little diamond bracelet. Favorite moment: karaoke (to the delight of the audience). Favorite kiss: wouldn’t you like to know.
The longer we went at it, the easier it got. I stuck primarily to the cue cards, but for the most part, there wasn’t anything she was asking me where I couldn’t insert a healthy and—as quickly became apparent—delightful bit of truth. It was exactly what Billings had been talking about. I was warming the crowd to Marcus without him even being on stage. Endearing him to a brand new audience by exposing another side of him.
A charming, goofy, softer side…with me.
But it couldn’t be all sunshine and rainbows. As our time was coming to a close, Wendy’s sharp eyes flickered suddenly to the cue cards over my shoulder. Before I even had a chance to get nervous, she hit me with the first one.
“So why the fast wedding?” she asked abruptly. “Three months isn’t a very long time… Why so quick to rush to the altar?”
My heart skipped a beat, but I recovered myself instantaneously. “What can I say? When you know, you know.”
The audience cooed, but she wasn’t satisfied yet.
“But just a month away… Is that even enough time to plan a wedding?”
Marcus’s face twitched nervously, and I forced a laugh. “You’d have to ask my mother. According to her, this is her big party—Marcus and I just happen to be getting married at the same time.”
The crowd roared in laughter.
“So there’s no other rush besides that.”
I pretended to be confused. “No other rush. We’re just romantics at heart.” I held up my hands to the crowd, and they thundered with applause. Apparently, I was a hit!
Her blue eyes sparkled, and she snapped her fingers with some prearranged cue. “In that case, let’s celebrate.”
Two waiters appeared from nowhere and handed each of us a tall flute of Champagne. A lump rose up in my throat, and I stared at it with dread. I could almost see Billings roaring in protest in the background. But no matter what he said now, no matter how many heads were sure to roll, the damage was done. The Champagne was in my hands, and I was suddenly faced with a very obvious choice.
The baby or the business?
I laughed as we clinked glasses. I brought the Champagne up to my lips. Every eye in the house was fixed upon me, but just before I took a sip, I suddenly lowered it to my lap.
“Wendy,” I chided playfully. “Are you trying to get me to admit that I’m pregnant?”
Chapter 15
“How could you do
that?”
Marcus was furious. I had actually never seen him this mad. We were back at the house now, Billings and his people trailing behind. The housekeepers scattered upon our noisy arrival and even the bloodthirsty Eduardo shrank back into the safety of the trees.
He threw up his arms and whirled back at me, ignoring the sea of faces watching. “I told you what was on the line!”
But not only was he dealing with a girl who’d just been betrayed and ambushed on live television, he was dealing with a hormonal, pregnant, soon-to-be mother. Needless to say, his rage was met with some rage of my own.
“I’m not going to hide my baby because it’s inconvenient for your latest stock merger!” I shouted back. “And what the hell was I supposed to do Marcus? She handed me booze on live TV! It’s not like I could drink it.”
“One sip of Champagne wouldn’t have hurt the baby in the slightest, and you know it!”
My mouth fell open in shock. “Listen to what you’re saying!”
“No, Rebecca, you listen!” His voice echoed off the marble floors and high ceilings like he was screaming through a mic. “You’re a hard worker with an admirable job, and I respect that. But you have no idea what it takes to run a multi-billion dollar corporation! Now, both Billings and I were telling you that the best thing for all of us was if you just sucked it up for a few weeks and held in the news that you’re pregnant.”
The redhead woman dressed in a fashionable dress rolled her eyes at me. “If you had to take one harmless sip of Champagne in the process—so be it! But you couldn’t even do that!”
I glared at her.
“Hey,” she said. “I’ve been working my ass off with Billings trying to fix your boyfriend’s image.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “Who are you?”
“Tabitha. Your husband hired the best PR firm around. And we’re going to fix this.”
Marcus ran a hand through his hair. “How bad is it?”
“Actually, sir,” Billings interjected himself with his usual lack of grace, “The reaction from the show thus far has been overwhelmingly positive. They loved Rebecca. Regis and Kelly are considering doing a full segment dedicated to you and Rebecca.”
“True. But she fucked everything up,” Tabitha said.
“Shut up!” Marcus roared at the woman.
“Please calm down,” I said.
“How am I supposed to fix this?” he said.
“I can’t believe you’re actually angry with me for this,” I hissed. “I did your little dance as long as I could. Up until the very moment that she plopped a glass of Champagne into my hands. How is it that no matter how high the stakes, you don’t seem to care what’s best for our baby?”
“All I’ve ever tried to do is what’s best for you!” he interrupted.
“No, all you’ve ever tried to do is mold me into whatever fits best with your present social narrative,” I shot back, temper rising. “And I’m sick of it!”
“They’re calling you a whore!” Tabitha said. “An actress trying to get to the top by sleeping with a billionaire.”
All was suddenly quiet.
My breath caught in my throat as the word echoed out into silence between us. Marcus was panting as if he’d just sprinted inside, chest heaving up and down as we locked eyes.
“Why do you think I’ve wanted you to stay inside? Why do you think I’ve wanted to keep the baby news under wraps this entire time?” His eyes flashed heatedly. “I’ve been trying to protect you. And our future child.” He took a step closer and leaned down with a glare. “Don’t ever tell me that I don’t care about what’s best for my family. It dictates my every move.”
I suddenly felt very small in a house that was much too big. The windows and doors seemed to loom up in front of me, and I staggered a half-step back.
“A whore? You didn’t think I could handle hearing this. I have an unbelievably thick skin from all the rejection of being a struggling actress. And yes, I have a better chance of getting hit by a meteor than getting my acting career off the ground. But I never went after you so you could help me get to the top. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. You should’ve told me about the rumors. Because I can handle anything thrown at me.”
It came out as a scratchy whisper.
Tabitha shook her head in exasperation. “How do you think it looks? Girl meets very rich boy, and three months later, ends up pregnant. It’s not exactly a stretch for them to assume you’re trying to trap a billionaire by getting yourself knocked up.”
I looked at Marcus. “Is that what you think?” I asked suddenly.
My eyes shot up to his and I found myself abruptly terrified of what he might say. With the speed at which my world had been changing the last few days, it hadn’t even occurred to me that this might be an issue. But surely the thought had crossed his mind.
“Of course not,” he said dismissively. But as quick as he was to assure me, a flash of doubt flickered through his eyes. It told me everything I needed to know.
“Oh my gosh.” I shrank back another step. “You do. You think I did this on purpose.”
“I don’t,” he said again, but our eyes locked and he sighed. “I know exactly how religious you are about birth control, Rebecca. How is it that a few days before Takahari’s supposed to sign the deal, you suddenly end up pregnant?”
I felt like he’d slapped me. The world blurred before my eyes, and it took me a second to realize I was crying.
“I can’t…I can’t believe this is happening,” I whispered, shaking my head.
“The world thinks you’re a whore. We’re trying to fix it!” Tabitha said.
“Tabitha, get the fuck out of my house!” Marcus shouted. “I’ve had enough of you! You’re never welcome here again.”
She blinked momentarily, then tossed back her red hair while Billings gathered up his people with a casual wave of his hand.
“Let’s go, people,” he said.
As Tabitha swept nonchalantly out the door, I could have sworn she flashed me a quick, clandestine smile.
“And the rest of you.” Marcus spun around, waving his hands at the people frozen on the periphery of our fiery display. “Clear the fucking room!”
I glared at him beneath the chandelier as the room silently emptied.
He took a step toward me, but I turned and rushed for the front door. It wasn’t until I pulled it open that I realized I had no place to go. This was supposed to be home, now.
“Rebecca, don’t!” He ran out after me. “Don’t take off again! Look, I’m sorry.”
But I’d suddenly run into Billings, standing at the base of the stone steps with his crowd of minions. When I came tearing out of the house, he looked up in surprise, lowering his chattering phone and gazing at me curiously.
“Billings?” I panted, unable to catch my breath.
“Yes, Miss White?”
“Please give me your car.”
Chapter 16
It was the middle of the night when I finally pulled up at Barry and Amanda’s townhouse in Westwood. I had been driving for hours, trying to clear my head. But a hundred circuitous miles later, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around what had happened.
Marcus thought this was my fault.
That statement alone implied several things. One: that this whole situation—our impending baby—was a fault, a blame to be placed on one of our heads. Two: while I was thinking this whole time that we were finally in a good place, taking steps to plan our future—he had thought that future included a massive deception on my part. And three: I didn’t know if there was even going to be a future anymore.
How could he have wanted to spend his life with a woman he thought was strategically anchoring him down with a baby? No matter how much he might love her. And how, in the name of heaven and hell, could he possibly think that I would do such a thing? How could he love me if he didn’t know me well enough to be certain that that was nowhere inside my personality? And that was the thing;
he didn’t really know me at all. Just like I didn’t know him at all, either. We needed time to really get to know each other, preferably before a marriage and having a baby. I think we did it the other way around. And yeah, that was completely backward.
I wiped my face and climbed out of my new car in silence, pushing the door shut and dragging my feet up the granite stairs to their house. After ringing the doorbell twice, a light snapped on. Two seconds later, Barry came to the door.
“Rebecca?” he asked in surprise, staring out into the darkness. “It’s two in the morning. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” His eyes flickered out to the driveway. “When did you get a Porsche?”
“It’s not mine,” I said dully, shivering in the slight breeze. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” He pushed open the door and gestured me inside, glancing once more at the stolen vehicle before locking up carefully behind us. “Amanda’s just in the—”
But I was already on my way to the bedroom.
Deevus rubbed up against my legs, and I petted him. Amanda was fast asleep—sprawled out across the queen-sized bed. After the huge California king I’d been sleeping in with Marcus, it actually looked quite invitingly cozy. I watched her for a moment before the words came welling up inside me, too hard and too horrible to contain.
“He thinks it’s my fault.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she squinted at me in the dim light flooding in from the hall.
“Bex? Is that you?”
“Marcus thinks it’s my fault. He thinks I got pregnant on purpose.”
Her eyes widened, and she hoisted herself up, patting the spot beside her on the bed. I climbed in, and we lay on our backs, staring up at the ceiling like we’d done since we were teenagers, silently supporting and solving our lives’ problems, one meditative talk at a time.
“He can’t think that,” she said after a while, twisting slightly to look at me. “He saw you freak out at the clinic. You flew to Washington for fuck’s sake. You didn’t plan a thing.”
“He told me himself.” I wiped a silent tear from my face. “After the morning show, he was furious with me. Said I’d messed everything up. Said, ‘how was it possible I’d gotten pregnant?’ Tabitha on Marcus’s PR team said the whole world was calling me a whore.”