by Cat Schield
The backyard had enough space for a large pool with a broad black-and-white marble surround, a pool house and a separate outdoor dining area for twelve beside an expansive fire feature.
Although the house was fifteen thousand square feet, there were only six bedrooms, and the way the public spaces opened onto each other, it was easy for her to find Siggy and Dylan in the main living room.
Lori was the first one to catch sight of her. Siggy was on the phone near the middle set of French doors that opened onto the backyard, his back to her. Dylan toddled along the espresso-toned hardwood floors that flowed into the dining room. Savannah made straight for him and snatched him into her arms. Pausing for a brief second to hug him and breathe in his familiar scent, she then turned to her babysitter.
“Give me my car keys and get out of here before I have you arrested.”
The girl backed away from Savannah’s advance, obviously terrified. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested. “He asked me to come by with the baby. He said it was okay. He told me you knew.”
“I don’t care what he said. I hired you. You only answer to me.” Savannah felt no remorse at scaring the girl after what she’d done. She put her hand out and stared daggers at Lori until she put the car keys in Savannah’s palm.
“How am I supposed to get home?”
“I couldn’t care less.”
Savannah turned her back on the girl and headed for the foyer. While a part of her wanted to confront Siggy, she knew she would lose the battle. However, before she could reach the foyer, a tall broad-shouldered man in a black suit stepped in her path.
“I can’t let you leave.”
A little dazed by what he’d just said, Savannah was momentarily stumped for a response. Was she to be a prisoner? Savannah considered the surge of independence with which she’d turned down Trent’s offer of support. Never in a million years had she thought Siggy would prevent her from leaving.
First she scowled at the man blocking her way, but seeing he had no intention of moving, she glanced over her shoulder at her father-in-law. He was still on the phone and didn’t acknowledge the standoff happening twenty feet away. The righteous fury that had carried her this far had started to subside, but mounting panic gave her an adrenaline boost. She’d prepared herself to reclaim her son and fire Lori. She hadn’t planned on having to save herself, as well.
“Step aside,” she told the man and silently cursed when she heard the slight tremor in her voice. The entranceway he blocked was ten feet wide, leaving plenty of room to go around him, but with Dylan in her arms and four-inch heels on her feet, she doubted she could move fast enough on the marble floor to make a break for it.
“I can’t let you go until he says it’s okay.”
Unwilling to argue with the man further, Savannah turned her back on Siggy. Frustration and helplessness washed over her. She hated feeling this way. It was how she’d felt from the moment she’d slid Rafe’s ring onto her finger. Why had she let him talk her into marrying him? She should have toughened up and trusted she could handle being a single mom.
Siggy concluded his call and headed in her direction. Savannah barely let him take three steps before venting her outrage.
“How dare you try to keep us here.” She didn’t care if this was the wrong tack to take with her father-in-law. “Call off your gorilla. Dylan and I are leaving now.”
“We need to talk.”
“There is nothing to talk about. Dylan and I are leaving.”
“To go where?” He might have sounded reasonable, but his eyes flashed with disdain. “You have no money and you are deep in debt.”
“Thanks to your son.”
“He was sick.”
“Yes, and he made a lot of bad choices. It left me with a huge financial burden and barely anything for Dylan and me to live on. You know he would hate that.”
“I know that he would like for me to take care of his son.”
His son. But not her. Instinctively, Savannah tightened her hold on Dylan and shifted so that her body was between her son and the two men who flanked her. Would they try to take him by force? Savannah pushed down dismay. She would not leave here without her Dylan, but couldn’t bear the thought of staying. They would be prisoners.
“Then please buy back the stock Rafe left Dylan. Give us the chance for a fresh start.”
“A fresh start? What sort of fresh start are you looking for?”
“I thought I would find a small house for just the two of us, and go back to work.”
“You mean acting.” He said it with a great deal of derision. “That wouldn’t be necessary if you moved in here.”
Around and around the argument went. She and Siggy had been wearing out this topic since shortly after Rafe’s death nine months ago.
“I want Dylan to live in a neighborhood filled with children who come over after school to play.”
She had this idyllic image in her head of small-town living, where her house was the most popular one on the block with the kids. Siggy’s Hollywood home was a showplace and not one bit kid friendly.
“He’s not old enough to go to school.”
And by the time he was, she’d be well and firmly trapped. “Do you plan on keeping me here by force?”
“Of course not. You’re free to go whenever you wish.”
“Thank you.” She turned to go, but her way was still blocked. “I wish to go now.”
From behind her came Siggy’s smooth voice. “Dylan stays.”
Savannah fought down panic. “We’re both leaving.”
For a span of several heartbeats, no one moved. Then the front door opened and Trent stepped inside.
* * *
Trent left the front door open as he crossed the expansive foyer. The man barring Savannah’s path had two inches and thirty pounds on Trent, but he didn’t see this as a problem.
He looked into Savannah’s eyes and hoped she’d follow his lead. “We have a plane to catch. And you know how the traffic is.”
“Yes, of course.” Her gaze searched his.
“She’s not going anywhere.” Siggy actually appeared to think he could get away with compelling Savannah to stay by bullying her.
“That’s not true,” Savannah stated, her relief obvious. She took the hand Trent held out to her and came to stand beside him. “Dylan and I were trying to leave, but your father was threatening me.”
“Is that true?”
Siggy didn’t answer Trent’s question but instead asked one of his own. “So you’re cheating on your husband with him?”
“Rafe is dead. She can’t cheat on his memory.”
“And it’s no business of yours who I’m with.” Savannah shook her head. “Trent is family and he’s helping me. Something you should be doing.”
“Neither one of you is going to get anywhere near the company again.”
“Dylan owns a majority share. That means I’m in control until he turns twenty-one. You have nothing to say about it.”
“It’s my company. I built it. I have everything to say about it.”
“Not unless you buy the shares back.”
“I don’t have to buy the shares back,” Siggy said, his eyes burning with malice. “All I need is control of my grandson.”
Beside him, Savannah stiffened. Trent stepped forward. “Do not threaten her.”
Siggy sneered. “Or what?”
Trent wasn’t a reckless teenager anymore, but his father continued to treat him with contempt. Since striking out to make it on his own, Trent was less and less bothered by his father’s low opinion. He’d come to accept that no matter how successful he was, nothing diminished Siggy’s disapproval.
“Try me and see.” Trent gave his father a cold smile, set his hand on Savannah’s back and guided her toward the front door.
She was trembling as they crossed from the cold foyer into the bright afternoon sunshine, but as they headed across the driveway to her car, she released a shaky smile.
>
“I’ve never been so happy to see anybody in my entire life.”
“That’s probably not something you would’ve said yesterday.”
She opened her car’s back door and settled Dylan into his seat. “You might be surprised.”
Trent waited for her to say more, but she simply buckled her son in and closed the door. At last she faced him, and her gorgeous smile hit him like a two-by-four. Unfortunately it was gone as fast as it had arrived.
“I don’t have to tell you how frightening that was. He wants to take Dylan away from me.”
“You need to contact a lawyer and get ahead of this.”
“You’re right.” Her shoulders slumped. “But right now I need to get out of here.”
While Trent followed her back to her hotel, a plan began to form in his mind. He parked next to her in the hotel’s large lot and intercepted her as she was getting out of her car.
“You can’t stay here.”
She didn’t look happy as she gazed toward the hotel’s shabby facade. “But it’s only temporary.”
The longer he was with Savannah, the more he felt driven to fix things for her. It was an old pattern. One he thought he’d abandoned when she’d married Rafe. “I don’t mean the hotel. I mean LA.”
“I don’t want to, but with everything that’s going on with the company, I can’t leave until things are settled.” She wasn’t acknowledging how dire her situation was. Alone in LA, she would be at Siggy’s mercy.
“You and Dylan are coming back to Las Vegas with me.”
Trent didn’t second-guess his decision to get further entangled with Savannah and her son. A week ago, he’d been avoiding her, refusing to get involved in her troubles. But what was going on between her and his father kept him from being neutral. She might have been foolish to marry his brother, but she didn’t deserve to lose her son because Siggy had lost his.
“I can’t.”
“What’s stopping you?” The question came out with a sardonic spin. “You have no ties to LA. In Vegas you have me.”
She opened her mouth and looked ready to refuse. He could almost see the wheels turning. Was she trading one bad situation for another? He could have reassured her, but no matter what else had happened between them, he’d always been honest with her.
“I don’t like the idea of you and Dylan alone here.” Trent couldn’t imagine returning to Las Vegas and leaving her to fend for herself. “And I don’t trust Siggy.”
She gripped her keys tight and looked a little like a defendant awaiting a verdict. “How long will it take to sort out what’s going on with the company?”
“I don’t know. It will depend on what Logan finds in the company’s files.”
“I suppose I could find an inexpensive rental in Vegas.”
“I think you and Dylan would be better off staying with me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I live in a gated community, on an estate with two acres of land and a guesthouse. My housekeeper loves children and is completely trustworthy. Rhoda can watch Dylan whenever you need her to.”
Although he thought he’d made a terrific pitch, Savannah looked unconvinced. “I don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand?”
“We haven’t spoken since I married Rafe. Just yesterday I had to hunt you down in the club because you wouldn’t answer any of my calls. Now you’re bending over backward to help me out. I don’t get it.”
He didn’t want to dig too deep into his motivations. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
“What do you want me to tell you?”
She cocked her head and regarded him through narrowed eyes. “What changed? Why are you suddenly my knight in shining armor again?”
“I’m not.” But he could see where she might be misinterpreting his helpfulness. “My motives are purely selfish.”
“How, exactly?”
“Didn’t you see the look on my father’s face?” The memory of it made Trent grin. “He is beyond frustrated that I’m helping you.”
“So this is about you and your father?”
“Yes.” And in the spirit of honesty, Trent continued, “I also feel responsible for you getting involved with my brother and in this mess.”
“Why do you think that?”
“You obviously were in a vulnerable place after we broke up, and Rafe took advantage of that.”
She stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “I’d better go get Murphy and our things.”
“Does that mean you’re coming with me to Las Vegas?”
“It makes sense for the time being.” She didn’t appear happy or relieved.
“Why don’t you stay here with Dylan and I’ll take care of collecting your stuff?”
She shook her head. “Is it weird that I’m uncomfortable waiting in this parking lot alone?”
Trent realized then what a good job she’d been doing hiding her anxiety. “Not weird at all. Grab Dylan and we’ll do this together.”
Ten minutes after she’d checked out and left the babysitter’s suitcase with the concierge, they were headed back to the Van Nuys airport. Both she and Trent had been driving rental cars. They dropped them off at the agency before heading to the chartered plane.
All through the day, from the plane ride to their confrontation with Siggy and now a second flight, Dylan had proven to be a sunny, spirited child. Trent sat across from the boy and regarded him in bemusement. “He takes after you.”
“He definitely has my nose.”
“Yes, but that’s not what I was referring to. I meant his temperament.”
“What about his temperament?”
“Dylan is a happy baby. Rafe was a fussy child. At least that’s what my mother says. And he turned into a difficult adult.”
“Your brother had his moments.” Savannah kept her attention fixed on Dylan. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with Dylan. He’s been easy since the day he was born.” She laughed. “Makes me want to have several more.”
Whenever she’d made statements like this, Trent visualized her surrounded by little girls with heart-wrenching blue eyes and blond ringlets. For some reason, he’d never pictured her with boys. Yet here sat a handsome lad with dark brown hair and curious blue eyes, and Trent wondered how many more sons were in her future.
“You’re an excellent mother. Of course, that’s no surprise to anyone.”
“It was a surprise to me,” she said. “As much as I’ve always wanted a family, I really wasn’t sure if I was capable of taking care of one.”
Her confession surprised him. “But you’ve always seemed so determined...”
How had she been so eager to do something when she wasn’t sure if she could? Trent had always been confident in everything he did. He couldn’t imagine taking on something he knew he couldn’t handle. With her inability to stick up for herself, she’d always struck him as insecure and unwilling to take chances. Maybe she was braver than he’d ever realized.
“Just because I’m scared of something doesn’t mean I won’t do it. If that had been the case, I never would’ve gone to New York City. Never modeled. And I sure wouldn’t have acted on a soap opera.” She gave him a melancholy smile. “I didn’t believe I could do any of it. Especially after I saw how beautiful the other girls were and heard the stories of how hard the modeling business was.”
“When you left LA, I never imagined you doubted yourself. Why would you? You were beautiful.”
“I was short.”
“You’re five-eight.”
“Most models are five-ten and taller. I didn’t book a lot of jobs because of that. And it kept me off the runway. Which made me feel inadequate. It’s why I traded modeling for acting.”
“How did I not know you felt this way?”
“I saw the girls you dated. Not only were they beautiful, but they were also over-the-top confident. They had to be to keep u
p with you.”
But none of those girls had stuck. None of them lingered in his thoughts like Savannah had. Like she still did.
“What do you mean, keep up with me?”
“You know, your party lifestyle. The clubs, the celebrities you hang with. All that can be pretty intimidating for a girl with small-town roots, raised in the servants’ quarters.”
“I never saw you like that.”
“I saw me like that.” She tickled her son and made him giggle.
Trent let her words sink in. Why, in all the years they’d known each other, had she never spoken of this? She made it sound as if she didn’t think she was good enough for him. That wasn’t true. The trouble in their relationship had been that they wanted different things.
Besides, she’d considered herself good enough for his brother. Or was it that Rafe had never made her feel less than utterly desirable and truly wanted? A vise clamped down on Trent’s chest.
“Well, you shouldn’t.”
He checked his watch and then turned his attention to the darkening sky outside the aircraft. They would be on the ground in twenty minutes. Trent could feel Savannah watching him, sensed her desire for him to elaborate, but he had no more to say.
An hour later, he was carrying his sleeping nephew through his house. Before taking her out to the guesthouse, Trent gave Savannah a tour of the wide-open first-floor living area.
Despite her years in his father’s mansion and her year and a half living in her own enormous house, for some reason she was goggling at Trent’s nine-thousand-square-foot spread.
“You live here?”
He wasn’t sure what to make of the laughter in her voice. “Obviously.”
“It’s a little over-the-top, don’t you think?”
“I bought it for the outdoor space,” he explained, feeling slightly peevish at her criticism.
While the traditional French country style wasn’t his cup of tea, the amenities more than made up for the elaborate plasterwork on the fireplaces and overabundance of pillars and crown molding. Floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors filled the house with light. The place had come furnished with faux antiques that complemented the builder’s vision of a French château.