by E V Darcy
She felt herself on the verge, could be so easily swept up if he offered her his heart…
‘Morning, Kitten,’ Casey greeted her sleepily, pulling her body close to his, so that her back was pressed against his chest. He spooned around her, just as they had in the darkness. His large body was shielding her, providing warmth and comfort.
His hand held her stomach and Paige felt a throb within her chest at the gesture. His palm was pressed over his child, cupping her stomach that had only just returned to how it was before the convention, after her battle with morning sickness. He had no idea that his child’s heart was beating beneath his fingers, its body growing bigger and stronger each day.
If she told him, would he accept it? Would he welcome it with surprised delight? Would it change what she felt was the verge of something blossoming between them?
His hand began its descent, over her stomach, making her abdomen quiver in delight, to between her legs. Even if he hadn’t been making his intentions clear, Paige could feel Casey was up for a third round. She certainly would have been too if her mind wasn’t whirling around the idea of confessing to him her secret.
He nuzzled the juncture between her shoulder and neck, uncaring about the wildness of her hair that must be in his face as he tried to get his lips on her skin.
‘Casey,’ she said with an unhappy sigh as she shifted slightly to stop his attentions. His hand paused in its movement and she turned around to face him. He frowned down at her pensive face.
‘What’s up?’
‘I have to tell you something,’ she said, sombrely. She had to tell him. She couldn’t not tell him about his own kid. If she didn’t, she’d be no better than that woman who’d tried to con him when he was eighteen.
Her stomach sank when he pulled away from her and sat up. ‘Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this?’ he asked. ‘Spit it out, Paige,’ he added when she hesitated. His voice was hard and he was already edging towards the other side of the bed.
‘You’re still married aren’t you. Fuck, I knew I should have had that checked out!’ He all but shouted as he quickly scrambled off the bed and began to pick up his clothes.
‘What? No!’ she said as she rushed to sit up.
Shit, this was not going right. She pulled the sheet up her chest as if it could protect her from whatever his reaction would be when she dropped the actual bombshell on him. She just prayed it was the one she wanted, but had a feeling it wasn’t going to work out that way. God dammit!
She took a breath as she watched him pull on his trousers, and just blurted out, ‘I’m pregnant and—’
‘What!’ He spun on his feet to face her, his mouth open and his eyes wide as he stared at her aghast. Her mouth went dry at the look of pure horror on his face at her announcement, freezing the rest of the words in her throat. ‘Pregnant?’
She swallowed and nodded.
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
She bit her lip and shook her head. His face went white. His eyes skimmed over her before meeting hers again. Her heart sank when he reached for his jacket and shoes.
‘Fuck you.’
She winced as he slammed the door behind him. He hadn’t even bothered to take his shirt that still lay on the floor. She climbed out of the giant bed and picked the discarded item up.
This was all she’d have left of him.
Other than Blueberry.
She sat back down on the bed, clutching the garment to her as she stared at nothing in particular.
Two seconds later, the tears came.
Casey got quite a few looks as he walked through the hotel’s lobby bare-chested, his suit jacket flung over his shoulders. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but this time there were no cocky head-nods to the men who stared at him, or impish winks to drooling women. Instead, he stormed through the lobby, his head focused on one thing only. How the fuck had Paige thought she’d get away with her little scam?
He shook his head at her stupidity. How could she think that he’d fall for it? After what he’d told her about Rabhya, did she really think she could pass off Daniel’s child as his?
The doorman hurried to open the door for the star, and as Casey stepped out of the hotel, the valet held out the keys to his Aston Martin. Usually, Casey would brag to the kid, talk about his DB9GT and tell him about his collection of vintage cars in his garage up in Malibu, but he knew if he opened his mouth today, he’d likely end up in court for verbal assault or some other bullshit charge. Fucking American’s were all lawyer-happy, trying to screw anyone out of a buck if they felt they had a chance.
He snatched the keys out of the valet’s fingers and climbed into the car, his mind still whirling over the Paige situation. The little bitch had probably got back with the prick—if she hadn’t lied about the break-up in the first place—got knocked up and realised she could try and fry a bigger fish.
He threw the car in gear and raced out of the hotel’s driveway, tyres squealing, the smell of rubber in the air. He heard the honk of a horn somewhere, but it didn’t register.
How the fuck did she think she’d get away with it? He’d told her others had tried and failed. Had she really thought that just because they’d had longer together than his usual one-night stands, and because he’d opened up to her more than anyone in his life, that he’d just accept the kid as his without question? Without proof? She thought he’d be gullible enough to fall for such a trick without hesitation just because of how they met…?
He’d thought she was different; his body actually craved hers and he had wanted there to be more between them, to finally give settling down a go. The word commitment hadn’t scared him when he’d thought about committing to Paige, but now… How could the world be so cruel as to do this to him not once, but twice? How was that fair?
An ache in his chest broke through the anger fuelling his mad dash towards home, his sanctuary. His shoulders sagged and the anger turned to a bitter remorse, something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the crumbling wall of bullshit he’d carefully constructed around himself, formed his life by. Their rule had been no bullshit. He hadn’t given her a chance to break it. He’d stopped her before she could spout the lie of him being the father, before she could break him. Again. He slammed the palm of his hand on the wheel. Fuck her.
Fuck her, and fuck the world. Casey McManaman was taking no more of this shit. He was done with women trying to screw him, he was tired of all the bullshit, the fake adoration.
He took a deep breath as he finally made a decision, one that shocked part of himself while another seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. The world’s press was going to have a heart attack, but Casey McManaman was taking a break. From women, from partying, and from all the other crap he went around doing. He was going to focus on his career and nothing more.
He pressed the button for his hands-free and snapped at the computer, ‘Call Mack.’ The agent answered on the first ring.
‘Casey, what’s—’
‘Let’s do it, Mack; I don’t care what I have to do, I want—no I need—the Glyn West role.’
He could practically hear the smile on the other man’s face as the sound of a match being struck came down the line.
‘Now, there’s the spirit I’ve been waiting for all these years.’ He heard Mack puff on the cigar. ‘Finally, kid, you’re going to go places. Now here’s what you need to do…’
15
Paige frowned down at her phone as she skimmed the entertainment section yet again. It had been four weeks since Casey had last appeared within its articles in his usual context—fleeing from his latest conquest. Her.
Paige had always wondered what the women were thinking, sleeping with the notorious playboy; she’d mocked them with Deanna after they either cried about their heartbreak on a reporter’s shoulder, or—as most had—openly bragged about how well he;d banged them. She’d never in a million years thought that she’d be the one left alone
in the bed, crying her heart out in her empty hotel room, over the star’s departure.
And that hadn’t escaped the press either. Although she hadn’t sold her story.
Their separate pictures of each leaving the hotel that day had appeared side by side as the tabloids speculated they’d had more than just a dinner reunion. Someone confirmed they hadn’t even made it to their reserved table, by producing a photo of them kissing at the bar, before another where they left hand in hand…
She’d been mortified when the press had been further vindicated the following day. Pictures of the two of them locked together in the elevator had appeared, taken from one of the hotel’s security cameras—why the hell hadn’t they thought of that?
Because they’d been too wrapped up in one another; she’d been too desperate for his hands on her again, to feel his fingers caressing her skin, and his lips supping at hers… his long dick inside her once more.
While management had tracked down the culprit of the leak, it didn’t stop her wanton image being splashed across the internet for all the world to gape at—thank God her parents weren’t alive to witness that particular spectacle. Deanna was working hard, trying to get the images removed from sites, but Paige felt it was a lost cause. What was the adage? What goes on the internet, stays on the internet?
She sighed.
Regardless, the fact remained that Casey hadn’t appeared in the headlines since that fiasco died. It wasn’t that the star hadn’t been spotted out and about—he certainly hadn’t turned into a hermit—but he just hadn’t been involved in anything headline-grabbing.
He’d been seen with Marc Matthews having a meal at some classy restaurant that they apparently favoured. He’d been photographed on set of his new show, Legacy, a number of times, stopping to sign autographs for fans, but nothing more. They’d been no stories of him flirting with fans or asking any of them back to his trailer. He’d taken part in an interview with the rest of the cast of Destiny, on the subject of Luc Truman’s disappearance and the end of the show, but it had been a sombre event. It had been very low key, and the entertainment news sites had responded appropriately to it.
Casey had also been caught shopping for another classic car to add to his collection, but that was as exciting as things had got. Even then, the car had featured more in the article than the star did.
Paige sighed as she closed the app and flicked up her schedule for the day. They were beginning to film The After Show and she had to be in make up in ten, wardrobe in thirty, and on set in an hour for a run-through, before the stars of Greenville High arrived. God, when was she going to eat?
She stopped at that thought. Shit, she’d skipped breakfast too. She put her tablet under her arm and fished in her bag for one of the snack bars she’d taken to carrying around with her. When she finally found it, she grinned and held it aloft as if it was the greatest prize in the world, forgetting all about the tablet under her arm.
‘Shit,’ she cried out as she fumbled to catch it. But the thing froze in mid-air as a hand snatched out from behind her and caught it deftly.
‘Are you determined to break all your devices?’ a suave British voice interrupted her musings. She turned around as Casey stood up and held out the tablet. She shook her head, unable to speak as her eyes took him in. He turned the gadget over in his hands to inspect it. ‘Not as fancy as your other one,’ he observed.
‘No,’ she breathed the word, barely a whisper as she tried to make sense of suddenly seeing the star she’d been thinking about just a moment before. Hell, she probably looked like a star-struck teenager, but she couldn’t help it. ‘And I’m not allowed another if I break this one,’ she added, taking back the device he held out to her.
‘I should think not.’ His tone was cold and condescending, almost as if he addressed a child he was disappointed with. She physically flinched at his words and ducked her head at his cool stare, gazing down at the darkened glass of her computer device as if it constituted the most interesting thing in the whole world.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked after a moment of silence.
‘I work here,’ she replied looking back at him with a frown. He knew she was working for the Network now, that she was hosting The After Show, so why ask such a redundant thing?
‘But that’s filmed on lot thirteen, this is lot thirty-one.’
Paige looked at him as if he had two heads. ‘What? That can’t be right,’ she said, tapping her tablet and bringing up the email from her producer. ‘It definitely said, lot— Dammit!’ she cursed as she saw that she’d screwed up. ‘That’s all the way on the other side of the studio! I’m due in make up in… fuck, five minutes!’
She dropped her head backwards and stared up at the ceiling, calling herself a fucking idiot, moron, and anything else that fitted the bill for her monumental cock-up.
‘My producer’s going to kill me,’ she sighed, clutching the tablet to her chest as she looked at Casey, helplessly. It was going to take at least twenty minutes for her to walk across the studio lots.
The man in front of her seemed to debate with himself for a moment before his rigid shoulders relaxed minutely as he came to his decision. ‘Follow me,’ he said with a motion of his head back the way he they had come.
Paige itched to say something to him as they walked in silence back through the corridors she had navigated only minutes before; but what could she say? Casey clearly wanted nothing to do with her. She wrinkled her brow at that thought. No, he had wanted something to do with her. A lot if she recalled his words from that night all those weeks back, it was that he wanted nothing to do with the baby growing inside her.
She’d known he hadn’t wanted kids, recalled with perfect clarity the way his single word that day in the darkness had been filled with a cold revulsion at the idea of having a child, but she hadn’t thought he’d react so violently to the news. At least he hadn’t challenged her, she mused as they pushed open the doors to the external lot. But that didn’t stop his lack of acknowledgement from hurting. It had taken two to make the damned thing after all.
‘Benji!’ Casey shouted towards a group of interns. A young man with bright multicoloured hair hurried to them. Paige blinked as man smiled adoringly at the star next to her. Wow. Someone had a crush.
‘Miss Hamilton needs to get to lot thirteen, pronto.’ Benji’s eyes darted to her before flicking back to Casey. ‘Can you get a buggy and take her over? She’s—’ Casey hesitated as his own gaze darted to her, over her stomach that was just beginning to show the signs of a bump, before he sneered the word, ‘Pregnant.’
‘Oh, of course!’ Benji said immediately, dashing off to find the buggy Casey had ordered him to get.
‘Thanks,’ Casey replied to the man’s retreating back. The star turned and disappeared again inside the studio, leaving Paige all alone to wait for a man she didn’t know, to take her to somewhere she wasn’t familiar with either.
She felt her eyes well up as the feeling of total abandonment overwhelmed her from nowhere. She cursed her hormones that had been going wild of late. She didn’t need the damned man in her life. She didn’t need his approval, or acknowledgement, or permission to have their baby. She didn’t need anyone. She was going to be fine raising Blueberry on her own.
Just her. No one else. Her. Alone.
‘Here.’
Paige jumped as Casey’s voice snapped the word, and a cold bottle of spring water was thrust into her face. She gazed at it blankly. ‘It’s hot today, you’re not yet used to the weather here. Make sure you drink plenty.’ She took the bottle without question. Casey turned away again and headed back inside.
‘Thank you,’ she called after him as he opened the door. He paused in his action momentarily before continuing without any acknowledgement.
She wiped away the tears that fell to her cheeks, just as Benji appeared around a corner with the golf-cart style buggy.
She didn’t need anyone… except to stop her breaking things, and t
o remind her to eat, drink, and whatever else she screwed up.
Nope, she didn’t need anyone…
‘—The scene with you and Lydia was heartbreaking,’ Paige told Sampson Smith, one of the leading stars of Greenville High. ‘How do you manage to portray such raw emotion?’
‘It is difficult,’ Sampson said with a bob of his head. ‘Before I started Greenville, I spoke to a lot of teachers in high schools across the country…’ The handsome African-American continued to explain his method of creating his character of the sexy teacher in the Network’s favourite drama show. Paige was enthralled by the man, hooked on his every word as he spoke in his smooth timbre. She could see why he was the favourite star for Greenville High’s fans.
‘We’ve got time for just one more question.’
‘Shoot,’ Sampson said.
Paige licked her lips and leaned forward, as if her question was a secret; Sampson also ducked his head towards her. ‘Is that top of yours going to come off this season?’ The star threw his head back and laughed, a deep roar that shook his shoulders and made him grasp his stomach. It was a well-known fact that his character was caught shirtless whenever the writers could fit it in.
‘Cut! That’s a wrap!’ the director said in her ear-piece, and Paige smiled at the man sitting next to her. Sampson leaned over and clasped her hand, a huge smile still plastered on his face.
‘You did well,’ he told her, knowing she’d been nervous when they started. ‘You’ll go far.’ She beamed back at him, squeezing his hand back as she thanked him. Six words. That was all they were, she mused. Six tiny words, but they made her feel better than she had all day. They told her she wasn’t a total failure at life. She sighed and relaxed into the large chair the Network had provided for her the moment they found out she was pregnant.