Bombshell (Hollywood A-List #1)

by C. D. Reiss

“My parents were in the military so we moved around all the time, but we moved to Austin when I was fourteen. Just another school where I was the new girl. I had no friends. I never had time to keep them. I never fit in because by the time I figured out what I had to do to fit in, we moved again. But this time I talked my parents into sending me to the regular school instead of the Lycée. I just wanted to be a regular kid, and the difference between the French school and a regular public school in Texas? Planetary. I’d traveled all over the world at that point, and that Texas school was like nothing I’d ever seen.”

  “How?”

  “Everything was football. It was like a religion. Except for the religion, which was second.”

  “My mother would argue with that.”

  “Well, she’d be right, I’m sure. But from the outside, where I was? The high school players were treated like kings. The girls whispered their names. And there was one. Tyler Stokes.” I said it with the same fascination I heard it.

  “Let me guess. The quarterback.”

  “Yes. A senior. With a girlfriend who was the biggest bee-eye-tee-see-aytch in the school. I could tell it the minute I saw her. So I steered totally clear of her and hung out with the kids in the French club.”

  “You had a French club?”

  “Four of us, actually, including Tyler.”

  He chuckled.

  “His mother made him join because he’d failed before. She wanted him to go to Texas Tech, and he needed a language.”

  “And he hit on you,” he said as if it was a fact he already knew damn well.

  “Yeah.” I didn’t continue right off, remembering that moment in the hall after school. We were outside the library. The other girls in the club had practically done his French homework for him, and he cornered me. I’d felt short and vulnerable, yet emotionally aroused. “I felt like I had this big opportunity. I could really fit in. I could live where I was as if I was from there. You know? Like he could validate me or something. I played coy for a week, but when he broke up with his girlfriend and came for me an hour later, I couldn’t even pretend I’d say no. So, yeah. It went on for about a month. And I didn’t play it safe because he didn’t want to. I wanted to fit in so badly. I dreamed of a big stupid wedding and a big dress. A party. All of it. So stupid.”

  I wasn’t crying outright, but enough moisture had gathered under my eyes for him to wipe away with his thumb.

  “I got pregnant. Naturally, right? And he wasn’t so nice. He asked me how many guys I’d been with, only he didn’t even say it that nice because I wasn’t a virgin at all. And he told me to take care of it, but it wasn’t his problem. I didn’t know what to do. If I told my parents, they’d take me out of the school, and it was the only chance I had to be normal. And I had no friends to talk to or ask what to do. In Texas they have all these rules about getting an abortion. The clinics are so far away, and there’re waiting periods. So I begged Tyler for help. He got an address from one of his friends and took me. He didn’t wait because he had football practice. It wouldn’t have changed anything if he had anyway. It was some lady’s house. I sat alone, waiting, thinking that’s what I get for dreaming about a big wedding. As if I could be normal and have all the things everyone with a real home had.”

  “You can have—”

  I cut him off. I wasn’t done and the next part was critical.

  “The lady was nice. She was a nurse I think, and she meant well. I’m sure she did. But it was a mess. A real mess.”

  A bloody mess. A mess of tears and tubes and needles. My parents surprised me with their understanding and love, but none of that could heal what had been broken inside me.

  “Anyway,” I said, swallowing a bunch of gunk. “It all went wrong. I can’t have my own children.”

  Brad leaned back and snapped a tissue out of the box on the night table. I reached for it, but he held it away and only when I put my arm down did he hold it over my nose to wipe the sobs away.

  “That’s a crime,” he said tenderly.

  “I guess. Tyler surprised me by not being a dick about it. We stayed together until the end of the year, but he cheated on me a week before he left for Tech.”

  I’d surprised myself by not caring.

  “Yeah, well,” I continued after clearing my throat, “now you know why I play it safe all the time. You shouldn’t need the universe to tell you twice.”

  He pulled me to him and put his forehead to mine.

  “That’s quite a story, Cara-bean. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  Before I could answer, he kissed me gently, tenderly. I breathed it in. So good. Everything about it was a comfort. A temporary, facile, convenient comfort I couldn’t get used to, because it didn’t change anything.

  Nicole stretched and Brad and I separated, laughing quietly. She turned around and nuzzled her father as if she was afraid of him leaving. She was the most perfect safety net.

  “She’s right.” He patted Nicole. “I think I met a hundred pretty girls today.” He brushed hair from his daughter’s face. “Some were even qualified for your job. But I didn’t want them. I’m not even talking about fu—” He stopped himself before dropping an f-bomb in front of her. Good man. “They all had one thing in common.” He looked up at me. “They weren’t you.”

  I didn’t breathe. I was too confused. I couldn’t stay his daughter’s nanny. It was a trap. He was wrong for me. Too much partying. Too busy with his job. He’d never be faithful or stable. But I wanted him, and I’d never have him if I stayed.

  I was aware of the contradiction, but I wanted him.

  “This is a mess,” I whispered. “If I stay with Nicole, this is off-limits. You and I. We don’t exist. We can never exist. And I can’t be here with you guys and be around you anymore. It’s too hard.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  “You have to trust me.” He touched my cheek again. “I have it under control.”

  “You’re pretty confident.” My eyes fluttered closed. I didn’t know what I was saying; I just wanted him to keep stroking my face and neck all night long.

  “I’m going to find a way to have you,” he said. “I don’t do halfway. Ask anyone. I’m all-in, all the time. And it’s you, Cara DuMont. I want all of you. You feel right to me. Everything about you. Your voice, your face, that body. That body.”

  He bit his lower lip. I wished I could photograph the moment I felt like his world. No one else. Nothing else. Just me. I spent so many days being an invisible force in people’s lives that his full attention was as uncomfortable as it was arousing. We spent long seconds doing nothing but looking at each other in the night light. He became something more than the player, the partier, the brilliant but unmoored talent.

  “If my daughter wasn’t in this bed, you’d be moaning so loud.”

  “Let me find another job.”

  “And then?”

  “You’ll have to make good on those promises, southern boy.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  We were up hours after that, sharing jokes, touching what we could safely reach. I think I slept a little, but for the first time since I took the job, I didn’t have a vivid dream of his body next to mine.

  CHAPTER 39

  CARA

  “I told West Side Nannies I’d take anything,” I said to Brad while braiding Nicole’s hair at the breakfast table. “So I have to get over there.”

  Brad wore shorts and sandals. Nothing extraordinary except the shape they covered. His sunglasses were already pushed to the top of his head, and he hadn’t even left the house yet.

  “But, today? You had to jump so fast?”

  I was annoyed that he was annoyed. He’d seemed so urgent about it the day before, and now I couldn’t tell if he was vacillating or if he just didn’t get it.

  I didn’t want to seek clarity in front of Nicole, so I just braided her hair while she ate her cereal and hummed to herself. He watched m
e. Full eye contact. Tapping his foot.

  “Daddy,” Nicole said matter-of-factly as she pointed at the top of her head, “watch Miss Cara. See how she does it?”

  Perfect time to change the subject.

  “Look,” I said. He stood hip to hip with me, his foot pushing against mine, shoulders touching. “You start at the top with three strands and gather more as you go.”

  “You sure have nice fingers,” he said with a thick southern accent.

  “Watch the hair.” I went quickly. “Over. Catch. Over. Catch. See?”

  “Are you going to take a picture with the princesses?” Nicole asked. Neither one of us answered. Nicole looked up at me, almost pulling the end of the braid away.

  “I’m not going today.” I finished off my work with a little blue elastic.

  Her face went from excited to distressed.

  “Why?”

  “I have to meet some friends.”

  I waited but got no help from Brad. He could be a real jerk sometimes. Like when his daughter wasn’t going to get what she wanted. Note to self.

  Nicole put on a sulk, turned to her dad, then back to me.

  “Why can’t they come?”

  “They won’t fit in the helicopter,” Brad said. Well, that was an answer at least. It wasn’t going to work but he tried.

  “Get another one.” An obvious solution to any self-respecting five-year-old. Grown-ups were so stupid, and I smiled in spite of myself. Brad did the same.

  That smile hit me broadside. It wasn’t about his power or his ability to control his daughter. It was about a moment’s delight in a child’s logic. I liked him again. He was likeable for a hundred reasons he got paid good money for. But there was more to him. He was genuine. He listened. He was open to change yet stalwart in his beliefs. He spent his money on things that pleased him or minimized inconvenience, not status objects. He never pretended to be more than he was but didn’t suffer from insecurity or false humility.

  He was who he was. Utterly and authentically.

  His smile lasted less than a second, and in that slice of time, I pivoted.

  “What are you looking at?” he asked, smile gone. The effect of it lingered in the form of a skipped heartbeat.

  I’m looking at you.

  Really.

  Just you.

  I swallowed the words because I didn’t even know what they meant, crouching in front of Nicole so I could look away from him.

  “You get to spend the day with your dad. Do you know how many girls want to spend a day with your dad?”

  “You need to come too.” She folded her arms in a righteous huff. “Or I’m not going.”

  “You’re going to let Daddy go by himself?”

  She nodded decisively.

  Brad glanced at his phone. “The car’s ready.”

  Nicole tightened the tension of her arms and mouth, pointing her chin up just enough to display proud intransigence.

  I started to explain, “This is a you-and-Daddy day.”

  “Miss Cara has to come,” Nicole interrupted. “Or I’m not going. I don’t want to sleep in the princess hotel or ride the spaceships or anything,” she whined, nearly in tears. “Please please please come.”

  “I can’t.”

  I looked up to her father, hoping for a little backup. What I got was a guy with his arms crossed and half a shrug on his shoulders.

  “It would be a hell of a lot easier if you came, I gotta say.”

  “Do you want to do this or not?”

  “What if she has to pee?”

  “There are family bathrooms.”

  “She’s going to be bored without you.”

  “She’s never bored.”

  “What does she eat? Do I have to feed her?”

  I wanted to kill him, but then I’d have to touch him. And if I touched him, all the violence would flow right out of me.

  “Can we talk?” I growled.

  He just smiled at me and followed me onto the back patio.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  “Nothing?”

  Had I felt a shadow of admiration and desire cross my heart thirty seconds before? Had I melted at his genuineness and sincerity? God. There must have been drugs in my breakfast. I put my hands on my hips. Sometimes, an authentic person can be an authentic ass.

  “You’re changing your mind.”

  “If you know what I’m doing, why are you asking?”

  “You. Are. Infuriating.”

  “You know what’s funny?” He pointed as if formulating the idea. “I see you with her, and you never lose your temper. She’s a real thorn, but you’re a saint no matter how bitchy she gets. But with me? You’re blowing a gasket here. Why is that?”

  “She has an excuse.”

  “So do I.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re not going to tell me all about what’s wrong with me?”

  “Go to hell.” I spun to go in the house, but he stepped in front of me.

  “I want you there because I want you. Okay? I like you. I like being around you. I want you to come because it’s more fun with you. And I want a shot at getting on top of you. That’s it.”

  There it was again. Full-frontal honesty. No smile this time. No delight. Just the brutal reality of who he was. He took a step in my direction—just a half step too close. I put my hand on his chest and pushed just a little against the hard muscle.

  “We were waiting until I wasn’t on the payroll. Remember?”

  “I hate waiting.”

  “You—”

  He kissed me and I swore the kissing thing was going to have to stop.

  Tomorrow.

  Because on the morning of Disney Day I was weak and unprepared. I was shocked at feelings I didn’t have time to process. And we’d kissed already, and no one was around—so I let him. And not only did I let him, I tasted his tongue and said whatever. Whatever whatever. I didn’t have to worry about where we stood or what our roles were because he was with me and it felt good. So good.

  “What are you doing?”

  Nicole’s voice came from the house, two feet away, where we’d stupidly left a girl who didn’t like to be alone. She was on the other side of the screen, smiling so wide her face looked as if it was going to break into an explosion of dimples.

  Worse than a thousand paparazzi seeing us together.

  CHAPTER 40

  BRAD

  I didn’t know what Cara’s problem was. Like a kid never saw two people kiss before. But she froze worse than the first time I kissed her. She went totally fucking silent on me. Not a sound. Not a word.

  I was the one who had to tell Nicole to get her jacket on. I was the one who had to tie the bow on her princess dress. It was like Cara had stage fright or something. I tapped her and asked her if she was all right and she said she was fine but man, I didn’t believe her. Something was up.

  She’d kissed me back. Couldn’t be that. She was totally into it. I promise you I know when a woman wants to be kissed and when she doesn’t, and Cara wanted to be kissed. One hundred percent into it. Until Nicole asked what we were doing and I said “kissing” because it was pretty obvious what we were doing. What was I supposed to say?

  And Cara turned her back on me as if I were a stranger. Complete system shutdown.

  I mean, come on. The three of us had shared a twin bed. Couldn’t be any closer. Why was one thing okay and not the other?

  “Please reschedule,” I said. “I’m begging you. Don’t hold what’s going on between us against Nicole.”

  She slowed, resting her hand on the wall. She had beautiful fingers. Each one was engaged, tense, revealing her emotions just by the way they rested.

  “You’re good,” she said. “You know just where to get me.”

  “I figure it’s not going to work forever.”

  She stepped back into the foyer. I didn’t hear what she said, but Nicole clapped and jumped up and down. Ten minutes later, we were a
t the helipad.

  Nicole was scared of the helicopter. She clung to me like a spider, cringing the whole time. Cara was still in shutdown, but when she looked at Nicole she smiled. The smile was bullshit. It would fool a five-year-old, but me? No. I was not fooled. Not at all.

  CHAPTER 41

  CARA

  I wanted to explain this to Brad Sinclair.

  His daughter was cute as a button. Sure. She was also strong. She was in the process of withstanding something few children her age ever had to deal with, the loss of life as she knew it. She did it with good humor and curiosity. She was worthy of his pride, but she was still a kid.

  She longed for stability. Adult guidance. She longed for completion and permanence. The reason she wanted us to be in her bed with her was because she wanted us together. And what we’d done by letting her see something was send the message that the stability she wanted had been achieved.

  But it was more complicated than her young mind could grasp. And when the day came that Brad and I didn’t work out, or I was no longer her nanny, or I continued to be her nanny but not her father’s kiss-partner, what would happen?

  I took the helicopter ride to Disneyland in silence. Nicole watched the land below in fascination and screamed when we dipped or swerved while her father laughed and held her tight. He snuck his fingertips to my arm when he could, but I was so deep in panic I couldn’t even look at him.

  Willow had lashed out after I left. While I was there, she never got all made-up and showed up to a grown-up party with a man who had no business taking her out. Plenty of kids that age pulled stunts like that so frequently they stopped being stunts, but I knew her. I knew her friend’s caretakers. We talked. Willow was pretty well behaved, and it wasn’t until I got fired that she lashed out.

  Now Nicole. How would she lash out? And when?

  I felt like an agent of chaos instead of stability. I did more damage than good.

  Everything felt upside down. I wasn’t even supposed to care this much.

  We landed on the Disney helipad, which was shaped like the silhouette of a big, white mouse head. I was going to have to put a good face on this if I was going to function the rest of the day.