Lying in Your Arms

by Leslie Kelly

  “What’s today?” she snapped.

  “Thursday, why?”

  Thursday. Of course it would be Thursday. Wasn’t it always freaking Thursday? “Do you know the date?”

  Her mother told her, and Madison started calculating.

  She’d been in Florida for seventeen days. She could hardly believe it. Apparently, she’d been so numb, she hadn’t noticed the passage of time. Each lazy day had rolled into the next, none bringing a solution to her problems or offering a glimpse of happiness with the man she missed so terribly.

  Seventeen days.

  That day on the bus with Leo, she had figured out when she’d started her last pack of pills. The date was emblazoned in her mind and it wasn’t hard to count backward to see just how long it had been: six weeks ago.

  She was late. Two weeks late.

  Calm down. It might not be that. Could be stress, anything.

  But Madison was never late—she hadn’t been in years. Besides, something deep inside her already knew the truth.

  She was pregnant.

  Pregnant by a man who obviously never wanted to see or hear from her again for the rest of his life.

  “What’s the matter, Madison?” her mom repeated.

  She couldn’t tell her folks—not because they were old-fashioned or wouldn’t be supportive, but because she just couldn’t drag them into even more of her drama. None of this was their fault; how could she add to the worry that was already making her mother so sad? Put more stress on her father’s recovering heart?

  “Sorry, Mom, I just remembered some stuff I need to take care of.” The next words left her lips without her giving them much thought. “In California.”

  Her mother didn’t look surprised, as if she had already come to that conclusion herself and had just been waiting for Madison to figure it out. “All right, honey.”

  Yes, it was time to go back to California and deal with this once and for all. With a baby to consider—and she truly believed there was one—she could no longer be the story-of-the-week for the cheap news mags. She would be in no position to run around evading the paparazzi.

  Besides, she was a fighter, not a quitter. She was good-and-damned tired of having her life ruled by strangers dying to find out sordid details that were not their concern.

  She had to see Tommy—and Candace, who she needed now so much her heart ached—and figure out what to do. It was time to reclaim her life. Maybe by doing so, she could go to Leo and tell him the truth.

  She hoped he would not only listen...but that he could deal with the fact that he was going to be a father.

  * * *

  “HEY, BRO, HOW’S it going?”

  Leo heard his brother Mike’s voice, but didn’t slide out from under his truck. He continued with his oil change, wishing his brother would go away but knowing he wouldn’t.

  “You gonna come out or are you hiding?”

  “Bite me,” he muttered.

  “I did when we were four and six. You gave me a fat lip.”

  “And mom spanked me,” Leo said, smiling reluctantly.

  “So are you coming out?”

  “If you’re here to pump me for information, forget about it. I don’t want to discuss it.”

  “Can’t a guy just stop by on his lunch hour to say hello to his brother?” Mike squatted down beside the truck, peering at him. “Seriously, I’m not here to bust your balls. I was in the neighborhood and just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  He sighed heavily. “Give me a minute.” At least Mike hadn’t come over here to rag on him about the pictures in the tabloids like the guys at the station did.

  It had been a crazy couple of weeks.

  He’d been in a mood, as his mother would describe it, since the minute he’d left Madison at that airport in Costa Rica. The flight stateside had been miserable. He’d vacillated between anger, regret and humiliation the entire way.

  Things hadn’t improved much once he got home. His family and friends had noticed, but he hadn’t told them anything. He was still too raw, too unsure what to believe, to talk about it.

  Once the heat of anger had died down and he’d really begun to think, he’d realized there was no way he knew the whole story. First, he didn’t think anybody was a good enough actress to pretend the happiness Madison had seemed to feel when they were together. She hadn’t behaved at all like a woman pining for another man—her ex-fiancé or her mystery lover.

  Second, everything inside him rebelled at the idea that she was the type who would cheat. She didn’t come across as anything less than an honest person. The moment he’d met Ashley, he’d seen that tiny hint of selfishness that had made it less of a surprise that she couldn’t be faithful. He’d never seen that in Madison. Never.

  Besides those factors, he also couldn’t stop thinking about one of their first conversations, the one when she’d said she hadn’t had sex in six months. That hadn’t felt like a lie. Besides, why would she make it up? There would be no need for her to invent a detail like that.

  But if it were true...what did that mean?

  That she was innocent and hadn’t cheated?

  That she hadn’t slept with her fiancé—the sexiest man alive, per magazines—since long before they’d broken up?

  Confusion didn’t begin to describe the state he’d been in. Finally, knowing he had to get the answers or go crazy, he’d pulled out the slip of paper with her phone numbers on it. It had been late, and he’d been leaving the station after a long twenty-four-hour shift. But he hadn’t wanted to wait until morning, knowing that in the light of day, when he was less fatigued, he might rethink the decision.

  No answer. He hadn’t left a message, instead deciding to try the other number for her parents’ house in Florida.

  It had been disconnected.

  Well, if she really had gone back to their home after the nightmare in Costa Rica, he could understand why the phone was no longer connected. Hell, if the paparazzi figured out who he was and where he lived, he’d not only want to change his address and phone number, he’d want to change his damn face!

  The very next day, when he’d been about to try to call her again, the story had broken. Those leeches had published the pictures from the airport. He was officially being called “the unidentified man who stole Tommy Shane’s fiancée.”

  And his life totally went to hell. Everybody saw it, everybody commented on it. He was able to laugh off what he called a “resemblance” to people he didn’t know. Those he did know, who were aware he had, indeed, gone to Costa Rica, weren’t buying it.

  “You need a hand?” Mike asked.

  “No, I’m done,” he said as he finished tightening the filter. Double-checking the seal, he slid out from under the truck and sat up. “Bring any beer?” he asked his brother.

  “I’m working.”

  “I’m not,” he said, enjoying the first morning of his long, three-day stretch off. Rising to his feet and wiping his hands with a rag, he added, “Come on in.”

  Before they turned to walk through the garage into Leo’s small house, Mike dropped a hand on his shoulder. “You holding up?”

  “I’ve been better.”

  Mike followed him inside, and Leo went to the fridge to grab himself a beer and his brother a bottle of water. Going into the living room, they sat down and eyed each other in silence for a minute.

  “So, heard from Rafe lately?” he asked, wondering how their older brother was doing. An Army Ranger stationed in Afghanistan, their other sibling didn’t communicate much. The whole family was anxious for him to finish up his tour of duty and get the hell out of there.

  “No, not a word. Mom’s hoping he’ll make it home for Christmas.”

  “Think that’ll happen?”

  “I doubt it.”

  They fell silent again, and Leo knew his brother had something else on his mind. This wasn’t just a stop-by-to-say-hey visit.

  Finally, Mike spoke. “Have you heard from her?”

>   Leo merely stared, surprised by the question. It was the first time anybody had asked him that. Most of his friends just ragged on him, trying to get information out of him, asking what it had been like to bang a movie star’s ex. His family pretended it hadn’t happened, changing the subject, not wanting any details.

  Nobody had even asked how they’d met, what they’d done, or how he felt about her. Really felt.

  “No.”

  “Have you tried calling?”

  “I did before the pictures hit the press.”

  “And she hasn’t called you?”

  “I didn’t leave a message. The last time we spoke at the airport, I made it pretty clear I didn’t want to talk.”

  “Harsh, dude.”

  His jaw stiff, he admitted, “It wasn’t my finest moment.”

  “I guess you had provocation.”

  Maybe. Or maybe he’d just been a jerk, acting like the injured party when he really didn’t know what was going on. He should have at least given her the chance to say something—anything. He’d been on autopilot, in shock, operating on instinct and emotion. And he regretted it.

  “Was it pretty serious?”

  He nodded slowly. “I thought so.” Swallowing, he admitted, “To be honest, Mike, I was picturing marriage and babies and all that crap, right up until the minute the press showed up.”

  His brother leaned forward in his seat, dropping his clenched hands between his splayed legs and hunching over.

  “What is it?”

  “There’s something you should know.”

  His heart skipped a beat. “About Madison?”

  Mike nodded. “And maybe about you.” He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of newsprint. “Mom saw this article this morning and asked me to come talk to you. She wanted you to hear it from one of us.”

  Leo reached for the paper, unsure why his mouth had gone so dry and his heart was beating so fast. Unfolding the square, seeing it was a torn-out page of a tabloid, he felt a little sick, but forced himself to look at the “news” article anyway.

  At first, the words didn’t make sense. As they began to sink in, though, the world seemed to stop spinning, then to suddenly lurch wildly. He spun with it, unable to do anything but stare at the words on the page.

  Who’s the Daddy, Madison?

  He scanned the article, crumpled the paper in his hand, looked up at his brother and said, “Get me to the airport.”

  * * *

  “ARE YOU OKAY?”

  Madison awakened from a light nap as her sister stuck her head into the bedroom, offering her a gentle smile. Candace had flown down the day before yesterday, a few days after Madison had returned to California. They were both staying with Tommy in Laguna Beach.

  “I guess,” Madison mumbled. “I’m just tired all the time now.”

  “I suppose that’s to be expected,” her twin said, entering the room and sitting down on the corner of the bed. Although Candace was concerned, there was also a gleam of excitement in her eyes. Ever since she’d found out that Madison was pregnant, she’d been torn between being upset for her and being utterly thrilled that she would be an aunt in about eight months.

  That was now official. The three pregnancy tests she’d taken since she’d arrived in California confirmed it.

  She was pregnant with Leo Santori’s baby.

  “You aren’t feeling nauseated or anything, are you?”

  She sat up, leaning back against the pillows. “No, not really. A tiny bit queasy in the evenings, but mostly I’m just tired.” She rubbed at her eyes and asked, “Where’s Tommy?”

  “He and Simon are downstairs making dinner.”

  “Are the shades drawn?” she asked, sounding bitter.

  They really didn’t need to worry too much about that behind the gates of this secluded mansion. Tommy had bought it for privacy, after all. The front lawn was large and gated, the house set well back from the road. The backyard comprised a steep, rocky hillside that led down to the beach and nobody but a goat could climb it. So, yeah, her comment had just been sarcastic. The paparazzi might be cruising the street in front of the house, but they weren’t snapping embarrassing pictures, the way they had when she’d first arrived at Tommy’s place a week ago and run the gauntlet to get to the gate.

  She hadn’t had the stomach to read any of the articles or watch the Hollywood “news” shows since her return. She knew full well everybody was speculating that Tommy, being the great guy he was, had taken back his cheating ex-fiancée.

  “I need to talk to you. It’s about the press.”

  “Screw them all,” Madison muttered, unable to help it.

  Candace reached out and took her hand, which Madison had noticed was actually a bit pale, despite her tan. She suspected she’d lost a little weight and knew she wasn’t getting enough exercise. She’d been practically hibernating, consoling herself in the company of her sister and her best friend as they all brainstormed on how best to deal with this.

  Tommy had offered to marry her. Same old knight in shining armor. Simon, his partner, hadn’t seemed too thrilled about it, but hadn’t objected. He knew full well how Madison’s life had been shredded because of all of this.

  Madison had of course declined. It wasn’t the 1950s—she didn’t need a father’s name on the birth certificate. If there was a name to put on there, she wanted it to be the real one. She only hoped that by the time she’d gotten things straightened out here, Leo would listen to her when she showed up in Chicago to break the news.

  This wasn’t the kind of thing she could say on the phone, so she’d already bought her ticket. She was leaving in two days. Tommy had told her to tell Leo anything she had to in order to make him understand the truth of the situation. He’d offered to go with her. Hell, he’d offered to hold a press conference to stage a big coming-out party.

  All she’d really needed was that permission to share his secret. She didn’t want him throwing himself on his sword for nothing. Her real hope was that by staying here with him for a few days, maybe the press and the public would see she and Tommy were still friends. Maybe they’d begin to believe she hadn’t broken his heart, that their engagement had just been a mistake.

  Maybe they’d let her get her life back.

  Get Leo back.

  “Mad, something’s happened. Mom called this afternoon.”

  Hearing the note of anxiety in her sister’s voice, she gripped her hand tighter. “Is Dad all right? His heart...”

  “He’s fine. It’s just... I don’t know how to tell you this.”

  So it had something to do with her. “Just say it.”

  Candace swallowed. “The Tattler has a big story about you.”

  Oh, great. “What else is new?”

  “This is new. It seems somebody—probably one of their slimy reporters—dug through Tommy’s trash the day after you arrived.”

  Slimy indeed. She hoped he’d gotten a handful of fish guts.

  “Mad, he found the test kits.” Candace’s hand tightened. “Your pregnancy’s all over the tabloids.”

  She froze, unable to process it, hoping her sister was joking. But Candace was dead serious—the tears and sympathy in her eyes proved it.

  “You mean they printed...”

  “Yeah. Big headline, nasty article, lots of speculation over who the father is.” Candace drew her into her arms and held her tightly, as if fearing Madison was about to break apart.

  Funny, though, as the immediate reaction died down, she realized she wasn’t devastated, wasn’t furious. Mostly, she was just terrified. What if Leo saw it?

  “I’ve got to go!” She launched out of the bed. “I have to change my flight to Chicago.”

  Candace nodded. “I’ll call while you pack.”

  But before they could do either, the intercom in the room buzzed on. Tommy loved the stupid thing and played with it all the time. “You awake?”

  “I’m busy.”

  “
Mad, you have a visitor.”

  “No time,” she snapped, wondering who on earth would be coming to see her, and, more importantly, why Tommy would let them in.

  “He’s coming up the driveway right now. Get your ass down here!”

  “He who? What are you talking about?” she asked, finally paying attention.

  “A gorgeous Italian guy who demanded to be let in, and then flipped off a dozen photographers in the street as he drove through the gate.”

  She gasped. Leo?

  “Do you think it’s him?” Candace asked.

  She considered, thought about the articles, remembered the conversation they’d had. He would know the baby was his.

  “It’s him,” she whispered, her hand rising to her mouth as she dashed over to the dresser to check her face in the mirror. “Of course, I haven’t bathed in two days and I look like a red-eyed raccoon with these bags under my eyes.”

  Candace leaped to the rescue. She quickly grabbed Madison’s makeup bag and touched up the dark circles. There wasn’t much she could do about her hair, so she slung it into a ponytail. It took only a minute or two, but even that was too long.

  She hurried downstairs, her heart racing, arriving at the bottom of the steps just in time to see Leo Santori throw a punch at her former fiancé. Fortunately, Tommy ducked to the side and evaded the shot.

  “Stop, Leo, don’t!” she shouted.

  He jerked his attention toward her. His dark eyes studied her, his gaze sweeping over her, from messy hair down to bare feet. She saw the tiny furrowing of his brow and knew he didn’t like what he saw. She hoped it was because he was worried about her and not because she looked like total shit. Or because he hated her guts.

  “This isn’t Tommy’s fault,” she said immediately, trying to diffuse the tension. “And the papers have everything all wrong.”

  “Are you pregnant?” he snapped, cutting right to the issue at hand.

  She nodded slowly.

  “Is it mine?”

  Another nod.

  His bunched shoulders relaxed a little and the dark frown eased. He didn’t exactly look overjoyed about the news or ready to pass out cigars, but at least he no longer appeared about to beat the crap out of Tommy.

  “So you’re not going to deny it, try to claim it’s his?” he asked, jerking a thumb toward Tommy.