by E V Darcy
‘You think?’ Paige said, frowning at his assessment. Personally, she thought it had been boring. Well, the second half at least.
‘Yup. Especially the second half.’ He interrupted her thoughts by tapping his finger to the end of her nose. She scrunched it up and shook her head slightly at the action, making the man chuckle. ‘I think the first half was a little too heavy for the type of programme it is.’
Paige stared at the man in front of her. Was he serious? Did he not understand fans? The first part, the moment between her and Casey would be gold to the viewers. She’d seen the Tweets after The Emma Janney Show; she knew there was Real Person Fiction going around on the internet about the two of them, that his fans were theorising—quite correctly—that Casey was the father of her baby.
Her ad-lib with Casey had been far more interesting than anything Tristan had uttered; his stories had only been repetitive of what he’d shared countless times in magazines and online. There was nothing new for the viewers to grab on to. With Casey, not only had she had the chance to reconnect with the star, but Casey had given them an honest, grounded-in-reality sliver of insight into his life, into what he was still enduring all these months after the disaster.
And fans ate that shit up!
The charming smile, framed by dimples would only get Tristan so far in this business. With the advent of social media resulting in 24-7 access to the world, fans needed more than a grin and a wink—no matter how many panties got soaked by the action.
The fans the Network were trying to grab hold of—the Destiny fandom—would expect nothing less than for Tristan to invite them into his life in some way. That was something Casey had always been willing to do… In fact, he’d got into trouble for it once—or seventeen times, to be exact.
‘What was wrong with the first set?’ Paige asked carefully, interested to see what Tristan saw. The two began to walk towards the dressing rooms; she was dying to get back into her new stretchy jeans, so comfortable on her slowly expanding waistline. Deanna had laughed so hard when she’d shown them to her over Skype a few nights prior, that Paige had hung up on her friend and hadn’t spoken to her for the last three days. She’d have to call her that night before her friend flew out to check on her personally.
‘It was too emotional,’ Tristan said with a shrug. As nice as the man was, and as good a friend as he was becoming, Paige wondered how the hell he’d made it so far in the industry with his outlook.
‘I thought that’s what made it great—the audience will really connect with it.’
Tristan snorted. ‘Paige, hon, they’re not tuning in to hear about the actor’s personal issues, they’re watching to find out the gossip, about what’s happening to their characters’—wow, did he not know anything about fandoms?—‘about the shows stories. They don’t want to know that Casey’s got issues.’
‘Tristan, I’m telling you, Casey’s segment was perfect for the fan base. They’ll love him, how open and honest he was, allowing them to see that he’s not the perfect guy.’
‘No way,’ he said with a snort. ‘Women everywhere want the perfect guy. They want him handsome, strong, and protective—’
‘Demanding, possessive—’
‘Hey!’ he protested. ‘I don’t mean it like that. But c’mon, look at who the popular stars of today are; Luc Truman, Marc Matthews—’
‘Luc’s a wanted terrorist and Marc was a reclusive ass until lately,’ she interrupted.
‘Exactly!’ he said with a nod as they stopped at her dressing room door. She stared up at him, completely baffled by whatever point he was trying to make.
‘Look,’ he continued with a sigh, noticing her confusion. ‘Both Luc and Marc give you the veneer. You see only the shiny outside, the bit that’s all pretty. You don’t see the knotted wood underneath it all.’
‘No, Luc has always given the fans loads—’
‘But has he? Has he really? Or has he merely given you just enough to make you think you’ve seen inside? I mean, if we all saw how he really was, wouldn’t we have been able to stop what happened back in May at Desti-nation?
‘And if Marc wasn’t so secretive, so hidden away, do you think he’d be so fascinating to people? No, he’d be just another run-of-the-mill celebrity.’ Paige opened her mouth to protest, before shutting it again as she processed what he was saying. He couldn’t be right… could he?
‘Casey, on the other hand,’ Tristan continued. ‘Casey has lived his life for all the world to see. With Casey, what you see is what you get, and look where it’s got him.’
‘He’s your co-star, Tristan. Joint leads. Equally important to the story that’s revolving around both of you.’
‘Paige, he’s only there because he got lucky getting out of that disaster alive. If that had never happened, his career would be over with the end of Destiny. No one wants to work with him. No one wants to give him a chance any more. He’s the same now as he was twenty years ago when he started in the business.’ Tristan put his hand on her shoulder in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. ‘I know he’s your friend, but after Legacy is over with, he’s through.’
‘What?’ Okay, she was willing to admit that Casey had never been a big-named actor, and she’d never thought him talented enough to stand out like some of the other stars on Destiny, but he certainly wasn’t terrible. And the more she’d watched the shows he’d been in—okay so she might have got a little obsessive since their rescue and it might also be one of the reasons she was going through batteries so fast—the more she realised he only ever received secondary, two-dimensional roles that were almost always the same. He’d never really been given the chance to shine or lead.
Legacy was his biggest break to date, and she—and from what she’d seen across social media—the rest of the Destiny fan base were interested to see how he’d do. There was no way his career was over! If anything, the Network should be pushing Casey out to the fans. It should be Casey doing the Legacy promotion work, not Tristan.
‘I bet you the fans love it,’ she said narrowing her eyes with determination. ‘I bet Twitter blows up more over Casey’s section than yours.’
‘What are you willing to wager?’ he asked, as he leaned against the wall, his grin back on his face. She rolled her eyes knowing exactly what he would be after, but she’d be controlling the stakes on this little bet.
‘If I win, you have to be on time to everything for a whole week!’—he snorted—‘And if you win, then I’ll bake my famous cupcakes for you.’
His eyes flickered with disappointment for a moment, before he declared, ‘I love cupcakes. You’re on!’ He held out his hand for her to shake.
Paige grinned as she shook it. ‘We still on for lunch tomorrow?’ she asked as she turned to her dressing room door. She opened it slightly and glanced back over her shoulder. ‘It’s your turn to pick where we go this time.’
‘Sure, pick you up about twelve-thirty?’ He clicked his fingers, before pointing his index finger at her like a gun. She sighed in exasperation, knowing it would be at least one when he got to her, but smiled as he walked away; he was attractive both coming and going, and damn, did she enjoy watching.
She pushed open the door to her dressing room and squeaked in surprised as the chair in front of the dressing table swung around to face her. Casey McManaman was sitting in it.
‘Fucking hell!’ she exclaimed, putting her hand over her chest to stop her racing heart. ‘What the hell are you doing, scaring pregnant women half to death? All you need is a fucking cat in that get-up.’
‘Sorry,’ he said, holding up his hands in surrender. ‘I didn’t think.’
‘What do you want?’ She got straight to the point as she popped the button on her skirt with a satisfied sigh. She stepped behind the room divider she’d had delivered when she realised that—regardless of it being her dressing room—there was no lock on the door and people had a tendency to just walk in and out. She pushed her skirt over her hips and grabbed her
jeans that had been flung over the top of the divider.
‘You know, you don’t have to hide—I’ve seen you naked before.’
‘I know,’ she said, with a put-upon sigh. ‘But it’s nice to have the illusion of a little privacy every now and again. Plus, I didn’t think you’d appreciate seeing my naked body now I’m all fat.’
She’d meant it to be a lighthearted comment, but Casey didn’t respond and the atmosphere in the room shifted. Paige continued to change in silence, wondering what to say to the waiting man. As she stepped back around the screen, Casey beat her to it.
‘I don’t like Tristan.’
She snorted. ‘Really? Because it came off that the two of you were BFF’s out there.’
‘No, Paige, I don’t mean like that—well, no I do, the guy’s a wanker—but I meant I don’t trust him. You shouldn’t either.’
She frowned at the man in her chair. ‘And why not? He’s been nothing but a gentleman to me. Okay, so he seemed a bit of an ass today, and he can be a little dim at times, but when we’re alone, he’s very pleasant’
Casey narrowed his eyes. ‘Spent much time alone with him?’
‘That’s none of your business,’ she said, glaring back at him.
‘Look, just watch yourself, Paige, that’s all I’m saying.’ He stood up and moved towards the door.
Dammit, she didn’t want him to leave.
‘Casey,’ she said, making him pause with his hand on the door handle. He glanced back over his shoulder, waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t have anything to say. She just didn’t want him to go.
‘Take care,’ she muttered, her gaze falling to the floor. She felt his eyes taking her in, sizing her up, wondering what was really on her mind. But she couldn’t look at him. If she did, he’d see how much she missed him, wanted him…
‘You too, Kitten,’ he said, his voice low.
He was gone before she looked up again.
18
Casey watched with amusement as Paige ate another Baby Ruth bar while she waited for her team to set up cameras and chairs for her interviews for a big Legacy promotion. The first episode aired that night and following the second episode the week after that, there’d be a special Behind the Scenes show. The Network was hoping to fill the big shoes that Destiny had left behind.
Casey huffed a laugh at the idea. Chalk and cheese were more similar than Destiny and Legacy. Destiny had been a paranormal show, based on angels and demons travelling through time, while Legacy was a drama-thriller type show centred around two FBI agents trying to bring down a serial killer. No way would the fans of Destiny would welcome it—at least not in the way the Network hoped.
Sometimes he wondered what the hell The Powers That Be were smoking when they came up with shit like this?
‘Coke,’ Paige suddenly said. ‘Who’s got my coke?’ An assistant rushed over with a bottle of the caramel liquid, already twisting the top off. ‘Thanks, Pete,’ she said before taking a long swig of the sugary drink. Casey didn’t mind a soda on occasion, but the way Paige was downing it, you’d think her life depended on it.
‘The tooth fairy’s going to love you,’ he drawled, stepping towards her. Paige’s head whipped around at his entrance, her eyes wide—like a deer caught in headlights—as a guilty blush spread over her cheeks. ‘Surely that can’t be good for…’ He waved his hand towards her stomach, unable to articulate those words.
‘It’s Blueberry that wants the stupid things,’ she told him with a huff. She smoothed her hand over her stomach that was now a clear bump, rather than a little softening pudge she’d been carrying the last couple of times he’d seen her. ‘I usually hate this stuff, but chocolate and coke seems to be what I hanker after all the freaking time, at the moment.’
‘Blueberry?’ he asked, his brow raised. He’d heard pregnant women refer to their babies as lots of different things before—lump, bump, it—or the names that they’d picked for the child once it arrived, but never by the name of a piece of fruit. Well, except for Gwyneth, but that was a different kettle of fish.
‘Oh,’ a slight blush crept into her cheeks, and Casey couldn’t help but smile at her bashfulness. It was sweet, especially when he knew just how unabashed she could be. For a moment, thoughts of all the other ways he could get her cheeks to turn pink washed over him, and he had to adjust his stance slightly. He closed his eyes momentarily, to banish the unwanted images—he wasn’t supposed to be thinking of her any more, especially like that.
‘When I found out I was pregnant’—and that was the boner kill—‘the website said it was about the size of a blueberry,’ she explained, holding up her fingers to demonstrate. ‘It just kinda stuck.’
‘I see,’ he said. He couldn’t help a quick look towards her bump. ‘And how big is it now?’
‘About the size of a bell pepper.’
‘Ah, that doesn’t sound as sweet as Blueberry.’
Paige laughed at his comment, the dirty, throaty laugh he’d missed for so long. He heard it sometimes when he drove by lot thirteen—or if he happened to be walking the long way to thirty-one—but it was a rare occurrence.
‘It certainly doesn’t,’ Paige agreed, her hand falling to her stomach. She made to say something, opening her mouth, then closing it and biting her lip. She considered him carefully before he saw the determination in her eyes. ‘I get to find out shortly if Blue is a boy or a girl.’
The comment took him by surprise for a moment. By the look in her eye, he had been expecting something… different, something that was going to make him sweat, or swear. He supposed she knew just how much he hated her being laden with Daniel’s child, and that she had probably been considering how much she could get away with talking about her pregnancy. Didn’t she get the chance to tell everyone about it? Surely lots of people were dying to make it the topic of conversation?
‘You want to know the sex?’ he asked, giving in to her. He’d heard of people finding out, but usually by chance, by the baby moving at the right—or wrong—time and showing the world what sex it was. He always thought parents loved the surprise of hearing it’s a boy—or girl—in the delivery room.
She sighed as if it would relieve all the stress of the world from her shoulders. ‘God, yes. Then I can actually plan for things, you know. I won’t have to run around afterwards trying to get things together.’ He nodded his head. He’d never thought about it that way before—not that he’d ever pondered over pregnancies—but it made so much bloody sense that he had to question who in their right mind would want to be surprised the moment it popped out? Probably, they’d be people with a lot of supporters who’d be willing to watch the new-born while the parents went to get things, or who had a partner who would be able to go with you to shopping with, to agree over bits and pieces you picked up. Someone on their own—as Paige was—would need to be more prepared.
He wondered, too, exactly how prepared she was?
Did she have an apartment big enough? Did she have a room set up for the kid? Would she sleep in the same room as the baby? That might make things with Tristan a little difficult. Would the bastard leave her once the baby was born and she couldn’t have sex for a while? Yes, okay, he’d looked that little bit up. Sex was not recommended for up to six weeks—especially as she could be bleeding for that long.
Casey suppressed a shudder that wanted to run through his body at the thought. He’d been lucky to never have to deal with a woman during her time of the month—he couldn’t imagine what they’d be like in that situation for six whole, bloody weeks!
No pun intended.
‘Makes sense,’ he finally managed to say, dismissing his thoughts. ‘But I hear people say it’s a nice surprised to wait—’
‘I think having a child squeezed out of you is surprise enough!’ she chuckled, and Casey joined her. When their laughter died down, the two found themselves stuck for words. They stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to say next, and pretended to watch the crew con
tinuing their set-up in the corner of the studio they’d been given for interviewing the cast and crew.
‘So, are you hoping for a boy or a girl?’ he asked, breaking the silence.
‘Either, or.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m not bothered. I just want to know. Although I think a girl might be easier than a boy.’
‘What? why?’ Casey asked bemused. ‘Boys must be much easier than raising a girl. I think if I ever had kids, I’d freak if I was given a girl.’
Paige opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. All amusement vanished from her demeanour as she looked at him. A second later, her face drained of colour and he had to grab her as her knees gave way.
‘Paige, are you okay?’ he asked, wrapping his arm around her, guiding her to a chair.
‘Yup!’ she said quickly, overly cheerful, as she sat down. ‘Just need another chug of Coke!’ She held up the bottle, shaking it slightly, before she twisted the top off and began downing the fizzy concoction without pausing for breath.
‘Bloody hell, Paige! Go easy on that stuff.’ He hesitated for a second before trying to interject a little humour. ‘You’re going to get fat drinking that shit.’
‘I’m going to get fat regardless,’ she snapped, pulling the now empty bottle from her lips. He bit down on his tongue to stop his response as Pete hurried back over and handed Paige a piece of paper.
‘Here’s the list, Paige.’
‘Is this it?’ she asked Pete as she quickly scanned the document.
‘Yeah, that’s who they want you to talk to.’
‘But Casey isn’t on it,’ she said, holding the sheet back out to the assistant. Pete looked between the piece of paper, Paige and the star standing at her side.
‘I don’t know what to say; those are the names they sent.’
‘Go and double check,’ she said, with a sniff.
‘Don’t bother,’ Casey told the man, and put his hand on Paige’s shoulder to stop her arguing. ‘I wasn’t supposed to be here today, so they’ve probably taken that into account.’