Only Once: A Single Parent- Hollywood Romance

by Ashley Munoz

  “Logan, hey, it’s Bex.” I tugged at a thread in the comforter, trying to calm my nerves. I wanted him to say he was on his way. I wanted him to want to take Cole.

  “Bex.” He let out a sigh.

  Why did it always feel like he was just tolerating me? Like I was the pathetic ex who clung to some idea of us getting back together? Had he forgotten why we broke up?

  “Did you get my text about Cole?” I asked pleasantly.

  I wanted this conversation to be a good one. I needed it to be a good one. I knew Cole was listening near my door; he was always hanging around listening.

  “Yeah…I’ve just been busy, haven’t had a chance to respond.” Logan shuffled something and I could hear a toddler babbling in the background. I was happy for him. Truly. I wanted him to be happy and move on with his life—I just didn’t want him to forget his kids while he did it.

  “So, what do you think?” I held my breath.

  He let out another sigh. “Can’t you take him? It’s closer for you.”

  My heart sank. I could physically feel it drown. “Logan, he wants you to take him. It’s football camp—all the other kids will have their dads there.”

  “It’s a two-hour drive there and back for me, Bex. That’s my whole day, and Dana needs help with Lucas,” he argued, and when he mentioned Dana, his girlfriend, needing help with their two-year-old son, I bit my lip so I wouldn’t say something mean.

  “I understand that, Logan, I truly do, but Cole’s your son too. He needs you too,” I reminded him. I knew the fact that Dana and Logan’s child was a boy was a huge part of why Cole was struggling with his emotions where his father was concerned. He was feeling like the baby replaced him, and honestly, I didn’t blame him.

  “It’s just football camp, and some of the kids don’t have any parents to drop them off. He needs to learn that sometimes we don’t get what we want.” He muttered something to someone in the background.

  “I’m not sure that’s a lesson he needs to learn right now. I think he just misses you. He was excited to start this season out with you being there.” I softened my tone, because as much as I wanted to lay into him, I had one other issue I needed to discuss with him.

  “I’m two hours away, Bex!”

  “No one told you to move that far away, Logan. No one. You knew your kids were here, you knew—”

  “Dana was pregnant. I did the right thing.”

  How could I forget? He’d knocked her up while he was still with me.

  “Doing the right thing is being there for your kids. That includes Lucas, but it also includes Belle and Cole. You have three, Logan. I know that’s hard on you and on Dana, and I’m not trying to make it more difficult, but you can’t just forget them.”

  He was quiet on the other end, and I hoped I’d struck a chord with him.

  After a few seconds, he let out another heavy sigh. “Sorry, Bex. Can you put him on the phone so I can explain it to him?”

  The lump in my throat made it hard to talk. How could he say no? How could he do this to Cole?

  “Yeah…but, um, I have another quick question first. Your child support never came in this month…do you know what’s going on?”

  Silence met me before his harsh, angry retort came through. “Put Cole on the phone.”

  Fuck. My temper had ramped up enough to where I wanted to fight with him. I wanted an explanation as to why we hadn’t received a check this month or last. He worked at a consulting firm; he wasn’t crazy rich, but he made a decent wage, and we never tried to get more from him than what I felt he owed his kids.

  “Logan, the kids need school supplies and clothes…I was counting on the check to—”

  “Then get a job, Bex. Stop acting like you have me to take care of you.” His cold, angry tone cut through the phone. It hurt so badly it nearly knocked the wind out of me.

  “I have a job, Logan.” I was seething at this point, so close to dropping a few F bombs.

  “Get a real one then. You shouldn’t need to rely on me for anything.”

  “That’s bullshit! Our children live here, with me. They have needs, and it’s both our job to take care of them,” I snapped harshly, bringing my hand to my forehead in frustration. “You know what…never mind, I’ll save it for court. Here’s Cole.” I pulled the phone away from my ear. I could hear him yelling something, but I didn’t care. “Here, bud, here’s your dad.”

  I handed Cole the phone and walked away, trying to calm down. In the background, I could hear Cole saying hello and talking about camp. I couldn’t be there when his little heart broke; no matter how Logan told Cole he wouldn’t be able to make it, his son’s heart would break into a thousand tiny pieces.

  I’d been at my job for a week. One week and I was ready to quit. It wasn’t even the non-stop cleaning that drove me crazy, or the fact that I wasn’t a customer service agent. It was the fact that all my superiors besides the woman who’d interviewed me were eighteen years old.

  Eighteen and correcting me. Asking me if I knew how to do a change deposit, or if I knew how to Windex. How to Windex? I’d nearly choked the child.

  They complained about their parents, about their boyfriend and girlfriends, about their college dorm life—and I was about to have a stroke. I was sure of it. I could not handle another day.

  On one shift in particular, a hot-as-sin DILF stepped up to the counter while everyone else was on a break or cleaning for once, so I moved over to answer his question. It was a simple inquiry about pool times and a few reservation policies, but for some reason one of the children from the back—one who was supposed to be on a legally mandated break—stepped out and interrupted our conversation to insert her own opinion on the pool policy.

  The guy smiled, kind of laughed a little, and then gave me a look and turned to walk away. It was the look, the one that said It would have been nice to continue this flirtatious banter, but this young teenager just ruined it.

  I nearly throat-punched her.

  Now, with things a bit easier for me as far as knowing policies and how things worked, I was working the front counter more frequently. And because I was much better at talking to the customers—because, you know, it’s what I was supposed to do in this job role—I was asked to stick closer to the phone and to help during the rush.

  It was Friday evening. Streaks of pink and gold lit up the light blue sky, the air still sickly sweet and humid. My children were with their father for once, and because of that one tiny little fact, I was in a good mood. I didn’t care that I had driven to meet Logan halfway, or that he had been late, forcing me to be tardy in getting to work. I didn’t care that I hadn’t had time to curl or straighten my hair or put on makeup. I just simply didn’t care today. I was a mess, but at least my kids were happy and spending time with their dad, and I was earning a paycheck.

  I was ringing up a bottle of wine for some guy wearing a fanny pack when three huge groups of people squeezed in through the double doors, all talking at once about picking up group passes and what they’d need to access the facilities on the resort.

  The group was a mixture of men and women, but they all had on some kind of camera equipment, backpack, or visor. They seemed excited, talking a million miles a minute about someone arriving soon and the tip they’d received about it. I tried to ignore them and hoped they’d all leave soon, because they were already getting on my nerves.

  “Excuse me.” A willowy man with light red hair walked up, lowering his head to ask his question.

  “How can I help you?” I smiled, wishing Judy were around to see my fucking excellent customer service skills. All of it wasted on cleaning every square inch of this stupid place.

  “Yeah, uh…if we were to ask about the arrival of a certain person, could you tell us anything about that?” His lips slung to the side, as if he was trying to flirt.

  Lord help me.

  “We tried the main lodge, but they told us our best chance of catching this person would be to buy guest passe
s and check out the sports centers, or the spa. We think he’s going to want to swim, and since there are three pools, we wondered if you’d be willing to help us out?”

  He placed his hand on the counter, inching closer. The group behind him had quieted while watching our interaction.

  “Sorry, but no. We can’t and won’t disclose that information. I’m not even aware of anyone coming to stay here that would warrant this—”

  “They’re here!” someone yelled.

  “Just saw a tweet about them checking into one of the massive villas, over on the edge of the golf course. But they were seen wearing swim gear, heading this way!” A girl wearing thick-rimmed glasses jumped up and down.

  Who was here?

  I didn’t have time to sit and watch the latest trending title on HitFlix as often as other people, and the idea of going to the movies was laughable. I just didn’t have the time, or the extra funds. So, I usually missed out on celebrity sightings. We’d get them somewhat often here, the mountains drawing in stars looking to hike or ski, and a few movies had been filmed here over the years. Then there was the fact that the headquarters for the HitFlix film studios happened to be just a few hours away in Portland, but, like I said, I usually missed out if a celebrity popped up.

  “We’ll scare him off if we’re all standing here. We need to get the passes and scatter,” another girl muttered, pulling out her large camera and checking the settings.

  Suddenly the horde of camera-wielding people was shoving their way to the counter, requesting guest passes. Each pass was seven dollars, for one day. Absolutely nuts.

  I rang up each person, probably more slowly than they were hoping for based on the way they were looking over their shoulders every few seconds, but I was still new and figuring out all the functions on the computers.

  The red-headed guy piped up, asking the few remaining photographers, “How do you even know they were headed toward this sports center? There are three…”

  Thoughtlessly, I spoke up, answering him and addressing the group. “The villas are closer to this center. The hotel is closer to the north center, and the lodge is closest to the east pool. This one is bigger and has all the cool bike and paddle board rentals, not to mention we have the indoor tennis courts and sauna.”

  The remaining stragglers met my stare while awkwardly huddling closer to the entrance.

  “Oh my gosh, did you see that SUV? It had all tinted windows—that’s gotta be them,” red-haired guy said as he pulled out his camera.

  “He’s with Henna, right? They’re always on again, off again, but staying at the resort seems like a big step in the relationship department,” some girl said offhandedly while looking outside.

  Wait a second…I knew that name. Why did I know that name? I’d always thought it sounded kind of pretentious, always wanting to say Hannah when I heard someone say Henna. I’d seen a segment done about her at Shay’s house while watching Entertainment Now… Wait…oh, shit.

  “Ryan Prince! I’m such a big fan! I loved Forever—one, two, and three!” someone yelled.

  Chaos ensued as a woman wearing a sun hat and large sunglasses charged toward the entrance, her dainty hand intertwined with that of the man walking behind her. Tall and tan with golden-mussed hair covered by a black ball cap and a pair of perfectly proportioned sunglasses that made him look every inch the celebrity he was now.

  My heart beat wildly inside my chest. So fast, in fact, that I wondered if it would pummel through my breastbone and plop out on the counter, right in front of everyone.

  Suddenly my coworkers had all shown up, trying to see what the ruckus was about. The ever-growing group of people in the lobby and the couple that was charging through the doors had expanded to a full-fledged assembly of people, flashing lights, and yelled inquiries.

  Henna James was an heiress, a socialite, and most recently known for dating Ryan Prince.

  The couple drew closer. Ryan hadn’t pulled his head up yet, but he did drag his hand from Henna’s, forcing her to look back in bewilderment. Her flawless hair was swept into a low chignon, and her bikini was barely covered by a black wrap, leaving her long, lean legs on display, along with her perfect cleavage. I’d never seen boobs that perfect in person. Shay’s were the closest I’d seen when she wore that one red bikini, but she did some crazy thing with boob tape that helped boost those suckers.

  The closer they got, the more aware of my surroundings I became.

  My khaki pants had bleach on them from when I had to wrestle the cleaning bottle so the spray function would work, my shirt was a god-awful shade of neon green, I wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup, and my hair…

  Oh. My. God.

  I could not see Ryan like this. I would not see him like this.

  I crept backward, keeping my eyes on the fast-approaching couple. Why didn’t they have people to do this for them? Didn’t they have people to click the boxes and sign the forms? They should have just been ushered into the pool by security and someone holding large green leaves.

  “Bexley, want to grab this one?” Sondra asked, smiling at me.

  The hell?

  Why on earth would she assume I’d want to handle it?

  “No, um…I haven’t taken my break yet. I’m going to go on it,” I said in a rush.

  “Okay, sounds good.”

  I was nearly free, and Ryan was pulling off his sunglasses. I refused to see that shade of aqua blue I’d yet to find in a single other pair of eyes since meeting him.

  I turned, ready to flee, and then the phone rang.

  I repeated in my head that I should go, just walk away, refusing to help in any way with what was going on right now. I’d sooner burn this place to the ground than have Ryan Prince realize his ex-girlfriend worked at the resort where he was vacationing with his heiress lover.

  “Bexley!” Jonah shouted toward my retreating form.

  I continued toward the back office, not caring that the loud thrum of voices started to quiet.

  “Bexley, it’s someone named Cole, says he really needs to talk to you!” Jonah yelled again, across the room, for everyone to hear.

  My face flushed crimson, my chest burning and aching from the shame that threatened to explode from the inside out. I wanted to keep going, grab my cell, and call Cole myself, but it was my son on the phone, waiting to hear my voice right then, and I wouldn’t turn my back on him, no matter what the hell was going on.

  Slowly, keeping my eyes trained on the floor, I walked back toward Jonah and grabbed for the cordless phone.

  Right as it was about to reach my ear, I heard three words that would shift everything, toppling my emotions with that deep timbre that used to brush against my skin.

  “Bexley? Bexley Black?”

  5

  I had a few different ways I could handle this situation. I could fake smile and pretend I didn’t remember him, or I could fake smile and act like I couldn’t have cared less that he was there and that I was essentially and very seriously the help.

  I had no time; all eyes were on me as Ryan leaned against the counter, his strong, tanned arms resting on the white surface, those fingers drumming a nervous beat. I carefully, so, so cautiously met those seafoam blue eyes and smiled. It wasn’t fake. The grin that erupted on my face was genuine when I met that gaze.

  I had missed this man so much. I’d spent years trying to remember every detail, from his dimpled cheeks to the vein that popped out on his forehead when he got angry or was making love to me. I missed him, and seeing him here…it did something to my organs. Yes, all of them.

  “Hey, Ry. It’s nice to see you.”

  Ry? Dear Lord, why did I decide to use a nickname?

  His eyes searched mine. Everyone in the room was silent, or maybe that was just in my head. Just the two of us in a tiny, silent bubble. He didn’t return my smile; his eyes didn’t light up with any excitement at seeing me. There was nothing, just utterly nothing.

  “Hey…uh…Bex, don’t forget about t
he phone. There’s a kid waiting,” Jonah reminded me.

  “Oh, right.” I stepped away from the counter and put the phone to my ear. “Cole? Yeah, it’s Mommy. I’m so sorry about that.” I started to walk away from the counter to talk in private, except there was nowhere private to go. The tiny office was currently being used by the bike rental guy making a million copies of maps. That left the upper lounge area, right outside the gym. It was often quiet, but not private. I’d have to just talk quietly.

  Walking away felt better, like taking refuge from the sun on a blazing hot day. Ryan’s stare was cold and foreign, like he didn’t recognize me, but he was the one who’d said my name, not the other way around…so why had he not responded when I said hello?

  “Mommy, Bella’s really sick. She’s throwing up and Dana said she doesn’t want her at her house anymore.” Cole was practically crying. I could hear the concern straining his voice. “Bell doesn’t want to be here either. She hates it here…says she misses you,” he added, his voice going too high. That part wasn’t about Bella; it was about him, but he didn’t want to admit it. My fists clenched and rage simmered at the image of my son standing there with a cell phone up to his ear, trying to keep his tears in while he asked his mother to come and get him.

  I blinked, knowing I had to at least get Logan’s side of things, but I grit my teeth, ready to go grab my babies.

  “Cole, put your dad on the phone, please,” I said as calmly as I could.

  I heard some shuffling around while I inhaled three sharp breaths, hoping I could keep my voice low enough not to get fired.

  “Bex, look…Bella is sick,” Logan started, and I snapped.

  “So, why didn’t you call me then? Why was it left up to a seven-year-old?” I scolded him, hating the tension in my own voice. I hated this. I hated him for making me feel this way.

  “Because I wasn’t going to let them go home. It’s my weekend, and I told Bella she’d feel better in the morning…but Dana mentioned a few things…” He trailed off.

  “What things, Logan?” I demanded, sharp and deadly. I was going to kill this man; I’d need Shay to think of an alibi for me.