by Anna DePalo
“Chiara—”
“Do you have any idea what it meant for a little girl to wake up wondering if her father had bolted again?” she interrupted, even while she didn’t know why she was being so forthright. Maybe it was because, without even realizing it, she’d waited years for this opportunity to confront him about his misdeeds. Just as Rick had suggested.
“Chiara, I know I hurt you.” Her father paused. “That’s why I stopped showing up after you turned five. I thought that not making a sudden appearance was better than hurting you by coming and going.”
He made it seem as if he’d done her a favor. She remembered the betting games they’d played when she was young. I bet I can throw this pebble farther. Race you to the tree, loser is a rotten egg. Even then Michael Feran hadn’t been able to resist a bet. “You left a wife, a child, a home...”
“You don’t know what it’s like to walk away from a family—”
“I never would.”
“—but you get to reinvent yourself with every film role.”
“It’s acting.” First Rick, now her father. Was there no man in her life who could understand she was just pretending? She liked acting.
“You can become someone different, follow your dreams...”
Of course, but... She was so not going to feel sorry for him.
Michael sobered. “I can’t turn back the clock.”
She took a deep breath and addressed the elephant in the room. “Why did you leave that first time?”
She’d never asked because posing the question might be interpreted to mean she cared what the answer was. And she’d spent years making sure she didn’t care—ignoring Michael Feran, leading her glamorous life and making sure her image stayed polished. Except he kept putting a dent in it.
Her father looked at her for a long moment, and then heaved another sigh. “I was an ambitious musician and I had dreams to follow, or so I thought.”
She could relate to the career and the ambition part. Wasn’t that what she’d spent her life pursuing? She loved acting...getting to know a character...and, yes, even getting immersed in a role. Except had she ever gotten to know herself—before Rick convinced her to stop and deal with her problems?
“I had some moderate success. We were the opening act for top singers. But I never broke through in the way you have.” There was a note of pride in Michael Feran’s voice, before he went on, “You’re more successful than I was. Maybe...you always wanted to prove you could be more successful.”
Again, she was floored by his observation. Had her drive to succeed been motivated by her need to outperform him—the absentee father? She’d never looked at it that way, but in any case she wasn’t about to admit anything, so she said aloud, “You don’t know me.”
Michael Feran’s face turned grave. “I don’t. I don’t know you, but I’d like to.”
“As you said, we can’t do a rewind.”
“No, no, we can’t.” His face was grave, sad.
“You’d have to clean up your act if we’re going to be any sort of family.”
Where had that offer come from? But the minute the words were out of her mouth, her father perked up. Her father. Looking at his face, the resemblance was undeniable. She saw herself in the texture of his dark hair sprinkled with gray, in the shape of his face...in the slant of his aquiline nose.
Okay, she did feel sorry for him. He’d done very little for her since she was born, but he’d done even less for himself. Maybe it was for the best he hadn’t been in her life. She’d been protected from the gambling...drifting... Ugh. It sounded just like life in Tinseltown, except she was committed to clean living even if she was based in Hollywood.
“I’d like to try,” he said.
“Well, you’re going to do more than try this time, you’re going to succeed. You’re checking into rehab for your gambling addiction.” She felt...powerful...in control...relieved. She’d been the helpless kid who’d watched him walk away, not knowing when her father would be back, if ever. But this time, she was calling the shots.
She set down her terms. “I’m prepared to offer you a deal. You get into a facility to help with your problem and agree to stop making headlines. In return, I’ll cover your living expenses. The deal will be in writing, and you’ll sign.”
She had Rick to thank for that bit of inspiration. After their last sexual encounter, they’d sat in her garden and watched the sun set. He’d revealed himself to be more than a lover. He’d shown himself to be a partner and skilled negotiator who’d helped her come up with a plan for this meeting.
“And if I relapse?” There was a hint of vulnerability in her father’s eyes that she hadn’t expected.
“Then back to rehab you go...for as long as it takes.”
He relaxed into a smile. “That’s a gamble I’m willing to take.”
“Because you have no choice.”
“Because I want to improve if that means having a relationship with you, Chiara.” As if he sensed she might argue, he continued in a rush, “It’s too late for me to help raise you, but I hope we...can be family.”
Family. Wasn’t that what she’d yearned for when she’d been around the Serenghettis? And now here was her father offering the ties that bind. Choked up by emotion, she cleared her throat. “Fine, it’s a role I’m willing to take on, but I’m putting you on notice, I expect an Oscar-worthy performance from you as a family member getting a second chance.”
An unguarded look of hope crossed her father’s face before he responded gruffly, “I have faith that the acting gene runs in the family.”
* * *
Trouble for Chiara Feran and Her New Man? Sources Close to the Couple Admit That Blending Two Careers Is Causing Stress.
Chiara looked up from her cell phone screen and at Odele’s expectant gaze. Her manager was clearly waiting to hear what Chiara thought about the web site that she’d told her to pull up.
They were sitting sipping coffee in the Novatus Studio commissary. Chiara had met Rick here earlier, where postproduction work had begun on Pegasus Pride. As an actress, she wasn’t involved in picture and sound editing, but since Rick was a producer on this film, she’d tagged along when he’d said he was interested in checking in with Dan to see how things were going. Afterward, she’d made her way to the commissary to wait for Odele, so they could discuss business.
“Well, what do you think?” Odele asked in her raspy voice, nodding to the cell phone still clutched in Chiara’s hand.
“You fed this story to Gossipmonger?”
Odele nodded. “I needed a way to hint at a possible end to your dalliance with Rick now that your father is going to rehab, while still keeping you in the public eye.”
“I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you didn’t know Rick was a wealthy producer!”
Her manager shrugged. “He’s a wily one, I’ll admit. I thought I knew everyone in this town, but I guess I can be forgiven for not being acquainted with every silent investor in a film production company. Once you told me about the pile that he built in Beverly Hills, I realized I should have had him on my radar, though, I’ll give you that.”
“We don’t need to rush to bring the ax down on the Chiara-Rick story, do we?” Chiara set down her phone, her heart heavy.
Odele was right. She no longer had to worry about her father making bad headlines, and she had Rick to thank for helping to engineer the resolution to that situation. It also meant she no longer needed Rick. Wasn’t the entire purpose of their fake relationship to divert attention from her father’s negative publicity?
Odele gave her a keen look. “No rush...but planning ahead wouldn’t hurt, sweetie. Drop a few suggestions in the press that all might not be happily-ever-after. So when the story does end, it won’t seem abrupt and it’ll be a soft blow.”
For whom? Chiara stifled the question even though she couldn’t tell if Odele was referring to the hit to her or to her public image. Did it matter? The two were intertwined. She and Rick weren’t a relationship, after all, but a story.
Chiara worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “Has Rick seen this headline?”
Odele adjusted her glasses. “Of course. I ran into him earlier when you’d momentarily left his side. He knows the script. He’s known it from the beginning.”
Chiara blanched and glanced down at her coffee cup. So he had seen it, and judging from Odele’s expression, it hadn’t ruffled him. He knew the bargain they’d struck.
Chiara squared her shoulders, seeing with clarity the road ahead—the path that had been there from the beginning. If she made the first move for a clean break, it didn’t even have to damage Rick’s reputation. She was familiar with how these things worked. A face-saving explanation would be issued. She could even see the headline: Snow White and Prince Charming Go Their Separate Ways.
She was doing Rick a favor. He’d never wanted to be tied to an actress...a celebrity. He could take his bow and retreat behind the curtain to his nice quiet life—on his large estate in LA. She was being fair.
But the two of them definitely needed to talk. Soon. Right now. Before she fell apart...or at least deeper into the warm cocoon of their relationship, where it was her love and his...what? He’d never come close to saying he loved her. Her heart squeezed and she blinked against a sudden swell of emotion.
She was a highly rated actress—she could do this.
She had sudden flashes from interludes in his arms. They’d been wonderful...but there’d been no promise of forever, and tomorrow started today. The next chapter.
Chiara looked at her watch. Rick was supposed to meet her here when he was done. And now she had more than enough to say to him...
She forced herself to continue her conversation with Odele, but twenty minutes later when her manager left to make her next meeting, Chiara was relieved...and then nervous as she waited for Rick to show up.
After a quarter of an hour, he walked in, looking casual...relaxed...happy. And as attractive as ever in gray pants and a white shirt.
Chiara swallowed when he gave her a quick peck on the lips.
He sat down across from her at the small table and then lounged back in his chair.
“How did your meeting with Dan end?” she asked brightly.
“Fine. The editor showed up and we discussed plans for the rough cut.” He cracked a grin. “Dan’s grateful to you for not needing many retakes and keeping us on schedule. Everything’s looking great, and with any luck, the box office receipts will reflect it.”
They talked about the postproduction work for a few more minutes. Then when the conversation reached a lull, she jumped in and said, “So you must be relieved.” He looked at her quizzically, and she shrugged. “Odele’s latest planted story in the press.”
“I don’t give a damn about Odele’s PR moves.”
His words surprised her, but then hadn’t he always been anti-publicity?
“Okay, but we need to talk—” she wet her lips “—because the reason we got together as a couple no longer exists.”
She willed him to...what? Get down on bended knee and pledge his eternal love? She’d said all along that she didn’t believe in fairy tales.
She smiled tentatively. “Thank you for helping me resolve the impasse with my father. He loves your idea of the two of us partnering to combat his gambling addiction.” Her expression turned wry. “Odele likes it, too, of course. She thinks it would be a good way to turn a negative story into a positive one. I could even take it on as a charitable cause.”
Rick inclined his head but looked guarded. “Okay, yeah.”
“But now that the problem with my father is gone,” she said, taking a deep breath, “we no longer have to continue this farce.”
Had she really said farce? She’d meant to say...
Rick’s expression hardened. “Right.”
“You disagree?”
He leaned in. “You’re still that little girl who is afraid of being abandoned—of someone walking out on her again.”
“Please, I know where you’re going with this is, and it’s not true.” It wasn’t abandonment she was scared of. She was a grown woman who feared she’d have her heart broken. Her heart was broken—because she was in love with Rick and he steered clear of actresses.
Still, wasn’t his keen perception what she liked about him? Loved? Yes, loved—in addition to his humor, intelligence and daring. They were qualities that appealed to different sides of her personality, even if they made her uncomfortable and yes, infuriated her sometimes.
“What about your overeager admirer?” Rick demanded.
“That’s my problem to deal with.”
“And mine.”
She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean my role here wasn’t solely to play boyfriend but to make sure you stayed safe.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Odele hired you?”
“She didn’t need to hire me. Do you know how much money I have invested in Pegasus Pride? Keeping the main talent safe was inducement enough.”
She felt his words like a blow to the chest. All those lingering touches, kisses, and his motivation had been... “You lied to me.”
“Not really. You knew I was primarily a fake boyfriend.”
“And secondarily a rat.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re offended because I may have had ulterior motives, too, in this game of ours?”
Yes, it had been a game. She was the fool for forgetting that. “I’m annoyed for not being told the whole truth. At least I was clear about my motivations.”
“Yes, and you’re determined not to rely on any man, aren’t you?”
“Was Odele in on this?” she countered.
He shrugged. “We might have had a conversation about how it was in everyone’s interest for me to keep an eye on you.”
“Everyone’s interest but mine,” she said bitterly.
Rick set his jaw. “It was in your best interest, too, though you’re too pigheaded to admit it.”
Her heart constricted. Had he meant those things he’d whispered in the heat of passion—or had she run into the biggest actor of all? Even now, the urge to touch him was almost irresistible.
How had this conversation gotten very serious and very bad so fast? She’d wanted to talk about their charade and give him an out that she hoped he wouldn’t take. Instead, she was left deflated and wondering whether she’d ever understood him.
Still, she rallied and lifted her chin. “You should be glad I’m setting you free. We never talked about forever, and you don’t like fame. You don’t want to be dating an actress, even if it’s pretend.” Two could play at this game. If he was going to cast her as another high-maintenance starlet, albeit one with an aversion to vulnerability where men were concerned, then she could portray him as camera-shy and hung up on celebrity.
He firmed his jaw but took a while to answer. “You’re right. Fame isn’t my thing.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I should have learned that lesson with Isabel.”
Chiara held back a wince. In some ways, she understood. The last thing some stars’ egos could handle was to be cast in someone else’s shade. There were A-list celebrities who refused to date other A-list celebrities for that very reason. Still, it rankled. She was not some random fame-seeker. If she couldn’t fall in love with a celebrity, and an anonymous civilian would be put off her fame, who was left? Did she have to settle for a brief interlude with a stuntman with hidden layers? Was that all there was for her?
She lifted her chin, willing it to hold firm. “It’s probably best if you moved out at this point. We co
uld do with some space.” Then she decided to echo Odele. “It’ll plant the seeds for when our breakup is announced.”
Rick’s expression tightened. “Can’t forget to spin it for the press, right?”
Ten
Chiara looked in her bathroom mirror. It had been a month since her breakup with Rick. A sad, depressing but uneventful month...until now.
She looked down at the stick in her hand. There was no mistaking the two telltale lines. Two lines that were about to change her life. She was pregnant.
The irony wasn’t lost on her. She’d been wrestling with how to combine a career with her desire to start a family. Now the decision had been made for her.
As she disposed of the stick in the bathroom’s wastepaper basket, she thought back to the last time she and Rick had been intimate—and her mind whirled.
She’d recently discovered that she’d expelled her contraceptive ring. It had probably gotten dislodged during rigorous sex, and then gone down the toilet afterward without her knowing it. Preoccupied with her breakup with Rick, she hadn’t dwelled too much on it. But now...
Chiara looked at herself in the bathroom mirror as she washed her hands. She didn’t look any different—yet.
She’d spent years trying not to be pregnant. She had a career to tend.
But while it wasn’t the best of circumstances, it wasn’t the worst, either. A baby. She was in her early thirties, financially independent, and had an established career. She’d always wanted a child, and in fact had started worrying that she couldn’t see how it was going to happen. It had finally come to pass, but in a way she hadn’t planned or foreseen. She’d been drawn to the Serenghettis, and now she was pregnant with an addition to the family. If things had been different—if Rick had loved her—she’d have been overjoyed right now instead of shadowed with worry. Still, she let giddiness seep through her. A baby.
She walked into her bedroom and sat on the bed, taking a calming breath. Then she picked up the phone receiver, toyed with it and replaced it. She had to tell Rick, of course...but she just needed time to process the information herself first. This wasn’t avoidance or procrastination. At least that’s what she kept telling herself...