He winced, and I caught her little legs, standing on my tip-toes for a kiss. “With extra chocolate,” I promised with a conspiratorial wink. “Because Uncle Luke and Aunt Beth get to watch you all night.”
“Yay!” the girls squealed in unison. Keaton dropped Charlie to her feet next to Frankie, and they watched us with wide, interested eyes.
“Daddy, are you gonna win, too?”
Keaton shook his head. “Nope. I already won my award. Remember?”
“It’s old,” Frankie complained.
“One is quite an achievement,” I defended Keaton, slipping into my heals. “In fact, it’s very doubtful that Mommy will win one tonight.”
“Mommy will win,” Keaton argued, gathering me into his arms. “And she did this all by herself.”
I smiled, my heart thumping inside my chest. After Beauty and the Beast brought us a whirlwind I’d never forget and our first top-grossing movie, the film wasn’t recognized with a single award. I spent our press tour pregnant with Frankie, and by the time it was over and our second daughter was born, I was ready for my year off.
When my agent came to me with the script for Beyond Hereafter, directed by none other than the infamous Clint Eastwood, I thought Keaton was going to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“I’m not ready for this!” I’d cried, so overwhelmed after reading the incredibly intense script. Keaton held my face in his hands, meeting my eyes squarely.
“You’re ready for this. You can do this. I will help you. This is the one, Vivian. And if Eastwood wants you, you accept. That is the Eastwood way.”
I burst with incredulous laughter. “And I’d be staring with his son, Scott. Eastwood. Oh my God.”
He nodded, grinning. “It’s perfect casting. Trust Clint. He knows what he’s doing.”
That was over a year ago. When Beyond Hereafter hit the theaters, it toppled the box office, received critical acclaim, and earned a coveted 9.6/10 on Rotten Tomatoes. The plot was about a young girl, barely eighteen, and her teacher in high school. Ultimately, it was a fantasy about past lives, an incredible prophecy, and a love that had and immortal Scott Eastwood searching for me again and again, lifetime after lifetime. Each life, I was reborn, and Scott had to find me and make me fall in love with him again.
Playing a girl in high-school ended up being my strength; apparently, according to critical reviews, I could “easily alter between a naïve, high-school student and a young woman with incredible depth.” Scott and I had such amazing chemistry that a sequel was already in the works.
The red carpet awaited me. I was nominated for Best Actress. Keaton would be at my side, and our two beautiful daughters would be waiting for us when we got home.
My life, as it turned out, was exactly what I’d always wanted.
The limo was cold, and I was already shivering with nerves. I reached to yank on my ponytail, and Keaton caught my fingers in his hand, lacing his own fingers with mine. “You can’t accept an Oscar with your hand knotted into your hair, Vivian Hale.”
“I’m not going to win,” I argued, and just the sheer thought that maybe, maybe, I could win...
I felt nauseous.
“Vivian,” Keaton whispered, staring intently at something on his phone.
I turned to look up at him. God, he was handsome, so debonair, I could barely look away. “What?” He squeezed my hand, swallowing hard. I could tell when he was nervous, and he was definitely nervous. “What’s wrong?”
He glanced out the window, and then back at me. “I need to tell you something.”
I nodded. “Go ahead, Maverick. You can tell me anything.”
He brought my hand to his lips. “You were right.”
“About what?”
He pulled out his phone, flashing a picture of a little boy on the screen.
He was no older than two or three. His sandy, brown hair and hazel eyes jumped out at me first before anything, and then I focused on his little pout.
I reached for his phone.
“This is him,” I whispered, overcome with emotion as tears clouded my vision. “This is him, isn’t it, Keaton?”
He nodded, brushing at the tears that collected in his own eyes. “You told me we’d know him when we saw him. Everything was approved. This is our son, Vivian. We meet him tomorrow.”
“What?” I cried, folding into his arms. I didn’t care if my makeup was ruined, or my hair was messy, or anything else but the moment that was changing our lives forever. “This is for sure?”
He nodded.
After a dangerous pregnancy with Frankie, we’d come close to losing her during the delivery. Keaton and I had vowed to only adopt going forward.
Less than ten months ago, we decided to make adopting a reality.
The process had been intense and was an incredible rollercoaster of emotions. I’d stupidly thought that it’d be easy to adopt a child given our wealth and public profile, but when we decided we wanted to adopt a child with special needs, the process became more and more complicated as the days went on.
When we found out last week that a little boy was available to us, I refused to fall in love. I refused to get my hopes up. I didn’t want to know his name, what he looked like, not anything other than what type of care he’d require
His profile indicated that he was an unfortunate child-victim of the opiate epidemic that had taken over our country. Both of his parents had overdosed and died, and he had no family.
He’d been born addicted.
“You told me I’d know him. I know him,” Keaton said brokenly. “This is our son.”
Our world continued to change every moment of every day, and there was nothing that Keaton and I couldn’t conquer. He’d been sober since that one terrible night and never slipped, not once. He was stronger every day, and so was I, and I realized as time went on that there was nothing better in the world than being married to your best friend.
Everything worked for us. We laughed, we cried, we argued, we argued more, we made up.
And when we made up, it was hotter each time than ever before.
We were our own blockbuster.
“Alright, kids, you ready?” Frank asked from the front seat, his traditional place next to the driver. “This is it, Vivian. I have a feeling, sweetheart.”
I nodded, dabbing frantically at my tears.
It was time for the red carpet.
The moment we stepped into the flashing lights, Keaton’s hand was in mine. I smiled and waved, and he did as well as the crowd burst with excitement over America’s Favorite Hollywood Couple. Microphones were waiting for us, reporters with interview questions, and all I could think about was our son.
Our children.
Suddenly, Keaton swept me into his arms, and I widened my eyes as my ponytail fell between my shoulder blades. My teal gown sparkled in the lights as I scrambled to hold onto him.
“Hi, husband,” I mouthed over the noise. He grinned down at me, and tightened his hold as he dipped me in his arms.
“It’s time for that Hollywood kiss, wife. Are you ready?”
I nodded, closing my eyes. “Lay it on me, director.”
And he did. He kissed me long and sweet, with just the right amount of light, no additional takes required. The crowd erupted, and just before he stood me to my feet again, he pressed his mouth to my ear.
“His name is Clint.”
I pulled back in shock, and he grinned.
“Our son’s name is Clint? You’re serious?”
“Yes I’m serious,” he replied, those wide, enigmatic eyes of his drinking me in. “Clinton Thorne.”
I threw my arms around his neck, giggling with excitement. “Someone up there loves you,” I assured him, and he tightened his hold on me.
“Us,” he corrected. “Us.”
It’s a Wonderful Life
K
I stared at the blinking cursor.
Our story.
Would it work? Could the Best Director for Dom
inance and the Best Actress for Beyond Hereafter pull it off?
I thought so.
“Is it done?” Vivian asked excitedly, spinning my desk chair around to plop down on my lap. I looped my arms around her, pressing a kiss to her lips.
“It’s done.”
“Below Unforgiven,” she murmured, reading the title page. “That’s the title? Why?” she asked, peering at the laptop screen.
I grinned. “Remember that day I found you in the video trailer, back in Pennsylvania?”
She laughed. “How could I forget that day, Keaton.”
“And we were discussing Michael Keaton, and you pointed out the wall of movies. Mr. Mom was located right below Unforgiven.”
“Oh! I remember,” she nodded. “That’s so funny. You’re totally Mr. Mom now, you know that, right?”
I beamed. “I’ll take that title, thank you very much.”
“Stay-at-home-director.”
“Mmm. Dream job.”
“Oh Keaton.” She paged through the script, reaching for her ponytail. “This brings back so many memories. Ah, the Ferrari.”
“Yes, the Ferrari. And the wedding. The night of the wedding.”
“Do you really think that our story could be a movie?”
“We already have all the documentaries on the Round-Up Killer out there. It has its own fan-base. It’s our goddamn story, V. Let’s capitalize on that.”
“Yes, we’re very poor, we should capitalize.”
I chuckled at her sarcasm. “Do you think you could relive that cabin? And what happened afterwards?”
She held me tighter. “I can’t think about you in that coma again.”
“But could you. For the sake of art.”
She nodded. “Maybe.”
“And... you could make a movie with me again?”
I knew she was remembering the intensity of Beauty and the Beast as her pretty blue eyes raised toward the ceiling. “I could suffer through it.”
“Luke’s on board to direct. Beth has given him permission.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t allow it if I were Beth. Not with infant twin boys to care for. She has no idea how all-consuming making a movie can be.”
“She’ll figure it out,” I promised.
Vivian sighed, scooting closer to me. “Keaton?”
“Hm?”
She met my eyes. “We ‘made it.’”
Her fingers bobbed in air quotes, and I smirked, pinching her thigh until she giggled. “So cliché, Mrs. Thorne.”
“I know. But we did, you know. This feels a lot like ‘happily ever after.’”
I nipped at her fingers and she made more air quotes, and she shrieked under her breath. “Air quote me one more time, firecracker.”
“And what?” she teased.
I paused, suddenly so incredibly overwhelmed by her, our love, and our life, that I couldn’t think of one sarcastic thing to say.
So I said the truth.
“We did make it. Happily ever after, V. Me and you.”
She gave me the smile that melted my heart, curling into my arms.
THE END
(fade to black)
Connect with Kimberly at
www.ADAMSROMANCE.com
Books by
Kimberly Adams
The Movie Trilogy
Below Unforgiven
On Heartbreak Ridge
Before a Perfect World
Beyond Hereafter
The Roam Series
Roam
Fall
Rise
Rush
Rule
West
Reign
The Fire Ballad Series
Eighth Note
Carousel
Stand-Alone Novel
Chat
Table of Contents
Awake
Say Goodbye
A Star Is Born
Falling Down
Brothers
Forgive and Forget
Breakdown
I Confess
The Hurt Locker
Broken
Starting Over
Fatal Attraction
Punch-Drunk Love
Hello-Goodbye
Out of the Past
Hereafter
It’s a Wonderful Life
Beyond Hereafter (The Movie Trilogy Book 3) Page 13