Tinseltown

by Stephanie Taylor

  “Quiet. Everything was normal. It’s been really nice having him come here to the house, instead of me having to risk going out.”

  With a nod, her father began reading again.

  Her mother was eager to go shopping with her, as she’d spent most of her time tending to Deb and her morning sickness.

  Her father was right. The paparazzi had mostly grown tired of waiting for her at the house, but once she arrived at the local mall, they were hot on her trail and shot questions at her.

  “Where have you been, Deb?”

  “What have you been doing for the last two months, Deb?”

  She pulled her over-sized wool jacket tight around her waist.

  “Are you and Zach Sparks still married? Was it a marriage of convenience for the sake of the movie?”

  Her mother glanced at her but remained otherwise blank. Deb ignored them all and headed for her favorite store. The photographers weren’t allowed inside while she shopped, and she sought refuge there. Normally, she would have the added security of her bodyguard, but since the end of the filming of their movie and in light of more recent events, she had told him his services weren’t needed for a while. She second-guessed her decision at the moment.

  Deb quickly browsed through the racks until she found what she was looking for. She held up the velour jogging pants only named for the style, not the functionality. Her mother agreed they would be a good piece before and after the baby was born, and she grabbed several different pairs before heading for the dressing room. Deb felt relieved she could wear something so comfortable for a little while.

  When she exited the dressing room, she went out into the store to the triple floor-to-ceiling mirror and looked at herself. The getup wasn’t bad, although certainly nothing she could consider trendy. Trendy wasn’t what she was after, anyway. For a moment, she allowed her hand to fall to her stomach and she closed her eyes. What a change in her life and what a bigger change looming ahead in about six months. She couldn’t even fathom what kind of mother she would be.

  She smiled at her reflection and went back to the dressing room, putting her original clothes on. She’d get one of each of these in every color.

  When she stepped out of the dressing room, she handed her jacket to her mother and checked out.

  * * * *

  Zach slapped the magazine he had bought at the newsstand down on the bed in front of him, his heart pounding and blood boiling. There, on the front cover was Deb, standing in a dressing area mirror holding her stomach and looking very… motherly. He knew her body almost as well as his own, and either she’d eaten a huge dinner or the cover story was true. The article speculated Deb was pregnant and an “inside source” confirmed she was just over three months along.

  He wasn’t stupid. He’d been in the industry long enough to know the article could be fabricated, the pictures doctored. The inside source might not exist. But the feeling he got when he counted back three months ago left him uneasy. Just over three months ago was Christmas. He might not have felt so uneasy if the timing wasn’t perfect.

  But, if he was honest, it all made sense: her abrupt departure when things were going so well between them, the way she continuously brought up having children, how she hadn’t called him for a few months. The fact he admitted to her he simply didn’t want kids right now might have been the nail in his coffin.

  This angered him more than he wanted to admit. If the magazine was true, it was going to be a hard pill to swallow. He wasn’t done being selfish about his career. He didn’t know what kind of father he would make after his own screwed-up childhood.

  But he did know the past three months of his life had been torture. Not seeing Deb, not touching her or kissing her… his hands ached to hold her. Their departure had been too quick to allow him any closure. The article changed his perspective. Maybe he was handling the situation all wrong. Maybe Deb didn’t want space after all, but acceptance that they could overcome whatever came their way. That’s what he had promised her. Shortly before he let her run away with their baby.

  He had a few days off and was going to use them. He contacted his agent and told him where he could be reached, if he was needed on set. He didn’t want any cellphone distractions.

  He was headed straight for Deb, and he intended to get some answers.

  Chapter 19

  Deb wasn’t surprised to hear the knock on the door. It just came a little sooner than she expected. Her parents had gone on a short trip to New York City for their anniversary and weren’t scheduled to be home before the weekend.

  For the past three months, she had rehearsed what she would say when she saw Zach again. But now, all those conversations in the mirror left her mind, and she could think of nothing else but looking into Zach’s eyes. She wanted more than anything to hear that everything was going to be okay.

  But when she opened the front door and saw Zach standing there, her heart tripped into overdrive. He didn’t look happy and, after the biggest tabloid magazine ran the story on her pregnancy yesterday, she didn’t suspect he would be. But the rest of him was just as she remembered — strong, handsome, virile. A five o’clock shadow darkened his jaw.

  “Hi, Zach,” she said quietly, folding her arms around her middle.

  His attention shot directly to her stomach.

  They both eyed each other before Zach spoke. “I don’t believe you, Deb.”

  It wasn’t an accusation like it should have been. It was a statement. Deb frowned at him and waited.

  “I don’t believe it was all just sex.”

  She couldn’t do anything but look away. Maybe he had lived under a rock the past twenty-four hours and didn’t know about the magazine report.

  “Zach,” Deb started, but before she could continue he stepped inside and closed the door on the still, frosty air.

  “It all makes sense now. The way you just left me hanging without saying goodbye.”

  With a nod, she looked down at their feet.

  “It was another one of your tests, wasn’t it, Deb? One I failed because I let you walk away.”

  She shook her head. “It wasn’t a test, Zach. It’s just been a long three months.”

  His eyes narrowed on her and he brought his hand around to his back pocket, producing the magazine featuring her on the cover. He held it up in front of her and cocked an eyebrow.

  “Because of this?”

  Ashamed, she couldn’t do anything but look away.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  Deb closed her eyes and bit her lip. This was the moment of truth. When she opened her eyes, he studied her intently. “Yes,” she whispered.

  His breath whooshed out of him in one quick exhalation. His shoulders sagged. “Were you planning on telling me?”

  “Yes… eventually.”

  “When, eventually? Like next week, eventually? Or ‘surprise, I’m your secret love child Mom kept from you for the last eighteen years’ eventually?”

  “More like when I get things figured out.”

  “When were you going to do that?”

  “I had a really rough first trimester,” Deb said. “I couldn’t get out of bed much, and the other day was the first day I felt like doing anything. I went out to get some new clothes because mine are tight… I was going to give you a call soon to see if you could meet me somewhere to talk.”

  “And what were you going to say?” His eyes burned through her as he waited for her answer.

  She gnawed on her bottom lip. “I was going to say I’m sorry I gave you an ultimatum. It was wrong and I never meant to make you feel the way Brad made me feel. And wanted to say, even though we haven’t spoken in three months, that I… I still love you. I never wanted you to think otherwise.”

  “Someone very wise once told me it’s not about winning or losing, but what means the most. You mean the most to me, Deb. You and our baby. I’m giving it all up — my career, my unhealthy need to prove to a dead father I was more than he gave me credit for. Bec
ause I still love you, too.” He held up the finger displaying his cheap Vegas wedding band and grinned. “I’m not ready to give up.”

  Deb studied him and realized all over again the pain she had caused him. He was so serious and so intent on doing whatever it took he’d lost sight of his future. “You don’t want a baby,” she argued.

  He twisted his mouth and looked up at the ceiling, thinking. “I never said I didn’t ever want a baby, Deb. I said I wasn’t ready for one right now. But it doesn’t mean I want to change anything. It just means I have to get ready a little faster.”

  They stood there, analyzing each other. Deb wasn’t sure what was left between them.

  “I can’t let you give up your career for me and this baby. It’s not fair.”

  “Then we can negotiate.”

  “And I’m not trying to rope you into the next fifty years.”

  “Fifty years?” he asked doubtfully, but his eyes twinkled.

  “I don’t want you to regret this decision and end up resenting me and the baby.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I’m afraid you will.”

  “Stop worrying.” He placed his hands on his hips and leaned easily against the door frame.

  “Are you okay if I retire and focus on a family?”

  “If that’s what you want, I’ll make sure it happens.”

  “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, Zach, and I don’t want to be in the media anymore. Having a kid changes everything.”

  “I’m sure we can manage it somehow.”

  Deb rolled her eyes, frustrated. “Do you have an answer for everything?”

  He grinned. “Pretty much.”

  She stared him down and crossed her arms. He pushed away from the door frame with his shoulder and sauntered toward her.

  “You see, Deb. You failed your final test too.” Zach stood in front of her and grinned. “When I said ‘I love you too’, you were supposed to come running into my arms so we could live happily ever after. Now you’ve gone and ruined the ending to our story.”

  “I guess I should know how these things end by now, huh?” Deb returned his grin. When she didn’t move, Zach shook his head at her.

  “You’re as stubborn as a mule, woman!” Hauling her into his arms, he lifted Deb off her feet as his lips sought hers. The kiss was tender. Everything about Zach left her breathless.

  When he lowered her to the ground, he looked deep into her eyes. “I mean it, Deb. I want you and this baby. I love you more than anything else in this world.”

  For the first time in three months, Deb didn’t feel the need to snuff out the spark of hope she felt. “I know. And I love you too.”

  “Good.”

  As Zach lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, the intent was clear in the golden depths of his eyes. The despair over never having Zach in her life again slowly melted away as contentment replaced it. Looking at him now, with his eyes shining bright, she wondered how she could have ever doubted him or what they shared.

  As he lowered her onto the bed and covered her body with his length, nothing felt more right. His kiss was deep and potent, igniting the fire always burning between them.

  Abruptly, he pulled back and eyed her open door. “Where are your parents, by the way?”

  “On vacation until the weekend.”

  He nodded and kissed her again. Just as things heated up, he separated from her.

  “You aren’t going to keep anything from me again, right?” he asked, desire lacing his words.

  “Never.” Deb grinned at him.

  “Not even your secret love for pink?” But he chuckled. “From here on out, Deb, we’re married. We’re a team. We’re in this together. You never have to go through anything like this alone again. I can take whatever life throws at us as long as we’re together.”

  “I like the sound of that. Now will you please kiss me?”

  His grin blossomed into the trademark smile she loved so much. “Absolutely.”

  Deb was excited to continue their story exactly where it had first begun.

  And finally, she could say they got the ending right.

  About the Author

  STEPHANIE TAYLOR is a freelance editor, author and business owner. She spends her time making other authors’ dreams come true at Astraea Press as Editor in Chief and Owner. Stephanie opened Astraea Press because of the lack of non-erotic book publishers and has finally found a home for her books.

  Stephanie has a doctorate in multi-tasking and can actually walk a tight rope while balancing a dinner plate on her head and typing her next novel with the other. She lives in Alabama with her three children and her wonderful husband of eleven years.

  Also from Stephanie Taylor

  Chapter One

  Stacey opened the window to her grandfather's room to let out the stale air. After the years he'd spent smoking, the house still smelled pungent after a rainy day. She rested her head against the screen and inhaled the sweetness of the moist earth after a summer storm. Thunder still rumbled in the distance, giving the illusion of the sun chasing away the storm.

  Stacey smiled and pushed her glasses up on her nose. "Are you okay, Papa?" she asked, straightening his covers and fluffing the sides of his pillow. He grunted and gave her a weak smile.

  "I'm fine. Just tired, pun’kin," he rasped.

  "Do you need some water? Is your throat dry?" Stacey reached for his cup, but his shaking hand stopped her.

  "I'm fine. Go read or something, I'll call if I need you."

  Stacey placed his hands back at his sides, and his eyes drifted close. At only sixty-five, his body was being ravaged by cancer, and the doctors had offered little hope. Combined with the fact he'd refused chemo treatment after learning it would only prolong the inevitable. Stacey had begged, pleaded with him to do something, but as a war veteran and Purple Heart recipient, he'd lived through plenty of pain.

  She didn't blame him, but her heart hurt when she thought about the man who had raised her not being there anymore. Gazing into his aged face, she gave a wistful smile. His thin lips were pale and drawn. The white hair on his head had never seen a day of gray. The fragile frame of his rib cage rose and fell softly, his breath much more shallow than last week.

  Hospice would be here for their daily visit soon enough. Stacey left him and went into the living room to tidy up.

  A knock at the door startled her, and she looked out the window. With a smile, she opened it and said, "Hi, Joey!" Adjusting her glasses on her nose, she stepped aside. It wasn't often her neighbor’s son came for a visit, and it set her heart to racing every time.

  With a nod of his head, his lazy, confident gaze trailed over her as he stepped inside. "How are you, Stace?"

  He wasn't the first one to shorten her name, but something about his southern drawl and the way his mouth quirked on the end of it caused her bones to feel like mush.

  "I… I'm good, how are you? What brings you by?" She closed the door and turned to watch him cross the small living room.

  "Mom said your granddad was getting sicker. Wanted to check on you and see how you're doing." He kept his back to her, and finally stopped at the edge of the couch.

  "Me? Don't you mean Papa?" Stacey shook off the tenderness tugging at her heart, and her awkward, too-loud laugh filled the room.

  "No," he said, finally turning to meet her gaze. "How are you, really?"

  "I already said I'm fine." She tilted her head to the side, trying to read his strangely blank expression.

  "I don't believe you." His cocked eyebrow irked her and she huffed. He might be one of the most confident men she knew, but he wasn’t fooling her.

  Stacey frowned. "Why not?"

  "You're only twenty, honey. You've got to be exhausted here with no one to help you. You've got dark circles under your eyes, and you still haven't gotten the stem on your glasses fixed. Duct tape won't hold forever."

  Stacey felt the heat in her cheeks, and she ab
sently touched her glasses. She knew she wasn't anything to look at, and it was kind for a man like Joey to even notice she looked worse than normal. "I'll get them fixed eventually. I'm not worried about myself right now. I just want to keep Papa as comfortable as possible. There'll be plenty of time for me after…"

  In an instant, Joey was in front of her, taking her shoulders in his strong hands and squeezing. "Stacey, I'm worried about you."

  "Because I haven't fixed my glasses?"

  "Because you never smile anymore."

  "I smile plenty, Joey McCrary." For her sanity, she moved away from his heat and those intense brown eyes that seemed to care. "Why don't you go back across the street and be with your parents? Take it from me, you should enjoy what time you have left with them."

  "I want to help you," he said softly, as if she'd never spoken.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned and gave him her best smile. "I don't need your help. Papa only has a little time left, and I won't let you come in here and take it away from me." Tears welled in her eyes until Joey was a blurred image. She felt his tender arms come around her and she accepted his embrace for only a moment. Being so close to him elicited selfish feelings, and she'd just read a passage in her Bible about that earlier today. Papa came first.

  "Stacey?" she heard her frail grandfather call out.

  She pushed away from Joey and he took a step back, but as she walked away, he grabbed her hand, causing her progress to stop.

  "He needs me," she protested.

  "Let me. I'm not a stranger to him, Stace. I mowed his yard every summer for six years. Sometimes a man needs another man for support. Having to bare everything to you is probably embarrassing to him."

  Stacey swallowed thickly. She'd never thought of it in those terms. Leave it to Joey, childhood friend, to give it to her straight.

  Once again, tears welled.

  Tenderly, Joey tucked a strand of her curly hair behind her ear. "I'm not saying it to upset you, Stace. Just sit down and let me handle things, just for a little while."