“Is he that cute?” Laini asks.
A careless shrug lifts her slim shoulders. “If you like that type, I guess.”
Intrigued, I can’t let it drop just yet. “What type?”
“You know, tall, cute, dark hair, hazel eyes, soft-spoken.” Her voice has taken on a dreamy tone.
Laini is the first one to give in to laughter. Actually a little giggle. But it’s enough to set me off. “Sounds like my type,” Laini says. “How about you, Tabs?”
“Definitely my type too. Bring him home for dinner and let’s see if he ‘takes a fancy’ to either of us.” Of course I say “takes a fancy” in a bad English accent.
“Fine. Mock me.” Dancy hops up. “Just for that, I’m taking the first shower, and I just might use all the hot water.”
Our laughter follows her.
“What do you think?” Laini asks.
“Oh, she’s got it bad.”
“Yep, I thought so.”
And if anyone can spot a girl who’s got it bad for a guy—it’s me.
21
Turns out, it’s not hard to ignore someone who doesn’t even show up. The twins are on set, back to their energetic selves, but David is nowhere to be seen. It’s odd.
Rachel isn’t on set today either. To be perfectly honest, that particular coincidence doesn’t sit well with me, but hey, I’m not dwelling on it. I’m going to be a professional and do my job. After all, somewhere between getting into the shower (last, so my water was barely a notch above icy) and arriving on the set, I’ve definitely decided to move on and stop dreaming about David Gray’s gorgeous navy blue eyes, or the way he looked on Valentine’s Day in that suit, and oh gosh, the way he smelled. And the way his shoulder felt against mine during church. Man, how am I ever going to stop dreaming about this guy?
I swallow hard. Get a stinking grip, Tabby.
I’m just finishing up a scene with the twins, where Felicia has a rush of motherly love. She takes both children in her arms, and in an Emmy-worthy moment—if I do say so myself—allows tears to travel down her cheeks.
Even Blythe says, “Finally got the motherhood bit down, haven’t you, Tabby? It’s about time.” From Blythe that’s high praise so I walk to my dressing room feeling pretty pleased with myself.
I grab my cell phone from my purse and check messages. My heart picks up at the sound of David’s voice.
“Tabby, I’m so sorry to bother you. But I have an emergency. Can you give me a call back on my cell phone?”
I dial and he picks up immediately. “Tabby?”
“Hey, David. What’s up?” Okay, that was a nice blend of distant, but concerned. Nice job, if I do say so myself.
“Listen, I had a meeting with a client and he’s late.”
Oh, and is his name Rachel? I just can’t believe him. Rachel’s gone, David’s gone. It’s too obvious what he’s really doing.
I bristle. Meeting with a client? Is that what we’re calling clandestine tête-à-têtes with supporting actresses these days? “A business meeting, huh?” Sarcasm drips from my lips.
He hesitates. Ha! Caught. “Are you okay?”
“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” I give a little carefree laugh. “What can I do for you?”
“Okay, look. I don’t have much time. My meeting was changed from noon to three, which is terrible, because the twins have ice skating lessons at three.”
I feel a premonition coming on. What am I now? Convenient babysitter whenever Rachel and David want to go off and be alone together? Doesn’t he even have a clue about my feelings for him? Or maybe he does and just doesn’t give a rip.
“Let me guess, you want me to take the kids to lessons and then back to your apartment?”
“Would you? I’m so sorry to ask, but this meeting could mean the difference between staying independent or having to take a job I don’t want.”
Oh, he’s good. A great liar really. “Oh, sure. No prob. We’ll get along just fine. You and your, um, client feel free to take your time. The twins are in good hands with me.”
“Are you sure you’re all right, Tabby? You don’t sound… right.”
“Who me? Oh, I’m fine. Just had a very emotional scene with my children so I’m pulling myself out of it.”
“Tell them I love them, okay? I’m going to call the kids’ advocate on set and let her know it’s okay to send the kids with you. And I’ll call Randy to let you in the apartment after the lessons.”
“Okay, that’s fine,” I say shortly because I can just imagine Rachel standing beside him, kissing his ear and playing with the black curls that cover the back of his neck. “Good-bye.”
The kids and I actually have a great time at Rockefeller Center. Much nicer than last time we were here together. They hold my hand as we move through the crowd, and the feel of their tiny fingers does something I can’t quite put into words.
We arrive a little while before the lesson is to begin, so the coach allows the kids to hit the ice for free skating before knuckling down for their lesson. I watch as the pair do their best to one-up each other.
“Watch me!” Jenn calls just before spinning into a single loop.
I hold my breath until she lands sure-footedly and poses with her arms in the air. “Way to go, Jenn,” I call out, expelling my pent-up breath. “Look out Michelle Kwan!”
Her face glows under the praise.
“Now watch me,” Jeffy calls, and he does the same jump.
“Amazing, Jeffy! You rock!”
A pleasant-looking woman moves next to me. “I don’t think we’ve ever met,” she says with a friendly smile. “I’m Erica Johnson.” She points to a lovely little girl of seven or eight wearing a leotard. “That’s my Angie,” she says with motherly pride. “This is her third year.”
“Tabby,” I say. “I’m with the twins.”
“Your husband usually brings them, doesn’t he?”
“My . . .?” Oh! “Wait. I’m not—” I shake my head and open my mouth to set her straight, but she’s not interested in me anymore. A small gasp escapes her as Angie goes down on the ice.
“Angie, get up some speed before you try that jump. You know you can’t do a double if you’re just going to drag along the ice!” She shakes her head. “I swear.” Without saying another word to me, she moves away, motioning frantically for her poor kid. The woman reams Angie with a string of insults. Compassion for the child tugs at my heart, and I look away. It occurs to me that I never set the woman straight, but I seriously doubt she’ll remember even seeing me.
The twins go through a series of jumps and spins, sometimes landing on their bottoms, sometimes landing the jumps. I honestly don’t see how anyone can berate a child for falling. That’s so… I don’t know… heartless.
Finally the instructor follows the twins off the ice. He smiles at me and shakes my hand. “David couldn’t make it?”
“Not tonight.” I smile back and turn my attention to the twins. “You two are fabulous. Want to order pizza to celebrate a fantastic lesson?”
“Yeah!” they say in unison.
“Okay, go get your shoes on and we’ll go.”
“You must be David’s fiancée,” the instructor says. “Jenn told me they’re getting a new mother.”
My heart stops, and I’m finding it difficult to breathe. What if David and Rachel are secretly flying to Vegas and getting married at one of those drive-through chapels? Maybe Rachel got a quickie divorce and now they’re ready to take their relationship to the next level. Oh gee. Am I ever a loser. I’m babysitting while the guy I have a crush on is marrying my nemesis.
“I’m just a friend,” I say as brightly as possible.
“Oh? It must the other woman I’ve seen the kids with then.”
A knife-sharp pain slices through my chest at the mention of the “other woman.” Oh golly, I wonder who that might be.
“I’m really not at liberty to discuss David’s private life,” I say with a lift of my chin and what
I hope is an air of indifference. After all, I really should be above idle gossip, shouldn’t I?
“I understand. But please tell him not to schedule the wedding for April eighth. The children are giving an exhibition.”
“I’ll tell him,” I say, wanting desperately to get away from the man. “Ready, kids?”
We order a thick pepperoni and cheese pizza and make it to David’s apartment around five.
“Good evening, Randy,” I say brightly, smiling at the doorman, who I have to say turned out to be a great guy after all.
“Good evening, Miss Brockman. And good evening to you two,” he says to the twins.
“Want a slice of pizza?” I ask on a whim. After all, it’s huge and there’s no way we’ll eat even half of the pie.
“I’d love one,” he says as we head to the elevator together. Once we reach our destination and he lets us in, I hurry to the cupboard, find a paper towel, and pull out a slice of pizza for him.
“Here you go,” I say brightly. “Enjoy.”
“You’re a nice girl, Miss Brockman,” he says, accepting the offering. And as I close the door, I have to say, that’s a compliment I’ll cherish for a long time.
I stride back to the kitchen where the kids are waiting at the table and pull down three blue plates, setting them down along with napkins. “This looks great!”
We bow our heads and Jeffy says a simple prayer. “Thank you for the food. God bless Daddy at his meeting and God bless Miss Tabby and us here at home.”
Sigh. Home . . .
The phone on the wall rings just as I’m taking my first bite. I pick it up. “Hello?”
“Tabby, it’s David. How are things going?”
“Oh, we’re having a great time. How about you and Rachel?”
“Rachel? How did you know… ?”
My stomach sinks. So I was right. The two of them are together. If not getting married in Vegas, then probably together at a hotel or something. I could just cry.
As luck would have it, Jeffy’s milk glass wobbles and goes down, spilling its contents all over the table. “Hey, David, I need to clean up Jeffy’s milk. Have to let you go.”
“Okay, listen, Tabby. I won’t be home for at least another two or three hours. The meeting got off to an even later start, and we’re going to have a dinner meeting. Do you mind getting the kids something to eat?”
“Already taken care of.” Does he think I’m going to starve his children just because he’s off somewhere neglecting them with a lying hussy of a woman?
“Thank you. I owe you big.”
Got that right, buddy.
After I clean up Jeffy’s spill, the rest of my evening goes along smoothly. Amazing how just playing mother to these two on the set has awakened maternal instincts I never knew I possessed. Rachel doesn’t deserve to have two kids as great as this for her stepchildren.
We quickly clean up the leftovers. Jenn and Jeffy are so cute as they dry their dishes like a couple of little grown-ups. “Good job, you two. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I like it when you come over, Tabby,” Jeffy says.
“Jeffy!” Jenn’s reproving tone brings a blush to Jeffy’s cheeks. “I mean, Miss Tabby.”
Unexpected tenderness wells up in me. “It’s okay. I don’t mind if you call me Tabby.”
“Daddy says it’s dis-re-spec-ful,” Jeffy replies.
I ruffle the boy’s hair. “Well, I’ll talk to your dad and assure him that we’ve reached a level in our friendship where the two of you can call me Tabby without any disrespect meant or taken.”
He frowns a little, and I realize I’ve completely talked over his head.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “I’m sure if I talk to your dad he’ll let you call me Tabby instead of Miss Brockman. I know you don’t mean any disrespect. Now, what do you want to do?”
“Will you play a game with us?”
“Are you kidding? I love games.” Which isn’t entirely true. But I could if given a chance to play one.
“I call Chutes and Ladders!” Jenn shouts.
“Sounds like fun,” I say brightly, trying to talk myself into it.
And guess what? It really is fun. I’m having a total blast, even though I lose every single game, and only when I catch a wide yawn stretching Jenn’s mouth do I call the playtime to an end.
“Do you take baths tonight?” I ask.
“Yes, after lessons we always have to.”
“Okay, I’ll run some water.”
“I call first bath!” Jeffy yells. These two are apparently big on “calling.”
An hour later, two very sleepy kids pad into the bedroom they share and climb into their respective twin beds.
I stand in the middle of the room and stare from one to the other, disappointed that they have to go to sleep. I’ll miss them.
“Will you read us a story, Miss Tabby?”
A thrill bursts through me. “Of course I will. What should I read?”
“Daddy’s reading us The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.”
“Okay. Should I pick up where he left off?”
They both nod. “Jeffy, come crawl into bed next to your sister, and I’ll sit at the end of the bed and read.”
In two minutes, we’re ready to begin. I open the book to chapter four where it appears David has left off and begin to read.
The twins are nodding off in ten minutes, which bums me out a little because I don’t want to stop reading. I replace the bookmark and sit in the dimly lit room watching them sleep.
I’m still sitting cross-legged resting my chin on my fists watching the steady rise and fall of their little chests when David peeks into the room.
My cheeks warm as I realize I’ve been staring at the sleeping little angels for fifteen minutes. I slide off the bed as carefully as I can and set the book on the nightstand. I switch off the light and follow David from the room.
He softly closes their bedroom door and motions down the hall. He gives a chuckle. “When I asked you to watch them, I didn’t mean you had to watch them every second.”
“We just finished reading a few minutes ago.”
“How were they for you?”
“Good.”
“I see you got roped into Chutes and Ladders.” He nods toward the table where I’ve neglected to put away the game.
“Sorry. I’ll pick it up.”
He puts a restraining hand on my arm. “That’s not necessary.”
I jerk back and clear my throat. “They ate pizza for supper. There’s still some in the refrigerator if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks. I’m starving.” He grins and yanks at the tie at his throat. He loosens it, slides it from his collar, and unbuttons his first two buttons.
“Um—no problem. The kids had baths. And they were so good at the skating rink. Did you know they can actually do single loops? They’re amazing.” I hear the excitement rising in my voice as his eyes squint with amusement.
“They’re not exactly ready for the Olympics. But I think it’s important for kids to learn a sport. It keeps them active.”
I feel foolish for getting so caught up. “Yes, well. They’re really good, I think. You know what else?”
“What?”
“They’re smart too.” I look up at him and his lips are pursed like he’s trying not to smirk. “I mean really smart, David.”
“I know.”
He’s just too calm to be grasping the enormity of what I’m telling him. “I mean, maybe they’re geniuses. For instance, Jeffy read the word ‘lion’ and Jenn can write her full name—not just Jenn, but Jennifer. That’s pretty—you know—”
“Amazing?”
He’s mocking me. “I think so.” I jerk my chin, realizing that I sound ridiculous to be so impressed with a couple of five-year-olds.
“I’m glad you three have reached an understanding.” He smiles. “Do you want to join me in the kitchen and keep me company while I eat?”
�
��What would Rachel think of that?”
“I’m sure she couldn’t care less.” He gives me a puzzled smile. “Why? Do you think she’d care?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. You’re closer to her than I am.”
He gives me a conspiratorial wink that I totally don’t get. “Well, as one who knows her so well, let me assure you she wouldn’t care if you sit and have a slice of pizza with me.” He slips off his shoes to reveal dark blue socks. “You don’t mind, do you? Those shoes are killers. I’d rather wear my Nikes any day.”
“Be my guest.”
“Oh, before I forget. How much do I owe you for babysitting and for the pizza?”
I stand slack-jawed as he pulls his wallet from his back pocket. Is he kidding me?
“Will fifty do it?”
“Fifty?”
He misunderstands my inability to form words. I’m so appalled.
He narrows his gaze. “Sixty?”
Outrage clamps my mouth shut. I send him my meanest glare, grab my purse off the counter, and whip around. I catch my sweater on the edge of the counter and it snags. Actually, snag is a mild word for the golf-ball-sized hole in the stomach of my favorite cashmere.
“Tabby, wait. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re not the one that put a hole in it. I’m just klutzy, that’s all. I’ll see you and the kids tomorrow.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He stops me with a hand on my arm.
I whip around to face him. “What then?”
“I’m sorry for insulting you. I should have known better than to offer you money.”
“Yes, you should have.” I grab my leather coat from the closet by the door. “And by the way,” I say as I open the front door. “Don’t make any plans on April eighth because the kids have an exhibition at the skating rink.”
“Thanks. I’ll remember. Be careful out there, it’s starting to snow.”
“I like driving in the snow.”
I have trouble holding back tears as I ride the elevator down.
“How was that pizza, Randy?” I ask the smiling doorman as he tips his hat and opens the door for me.
Catch a Rising Star Page 21