“We need Glory here,” he repeated.
“Why Glory? I’m capable of caring for myself. Suzie will get what I need. Plus, Glory is managing Chip.”
I swallowed a sip of water, feeling my stomach roar to life.
“Right. Glory. We’ve said her name half a dozen times by now. I don’t want you to do one extra fucking thing other than your job on set. And when the movie is wrapped, you will sit like a roast cooking in the oven.”
Glaring at my older brother again, my words came out hoarse. “I’m not your wife, Ford. This isn’t your baby. I’m my own person, and no way am I doing that.”
“I know, but you’re my sister and you’re…” I watched Ford struggle for the correct word.
“Old.” I said it for him.
“Not old, but someone has to care for you. You don’t have to go through life alone. I told you that Valentine’s bullshit was exactly that. A crock of shit. I told you not to go through with that stunt. I don’t give a shit what the studio wanted. I make my own decisions.”
It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I wasn’t anyone’s wife, and this was Cal’s baby. Cal, who I’d been fighting with…who I didn’t have a commitment with or anything close…because of my wishes.
The same man who was currently walking through the door in a pair of wrinkled linen pants and a white T-shirt, looking feral and speaking to my brother in a tone I hadn’t heard him use before.
“I’ll be caring for her, thank you very much, Ford.”
Jamie, holding Laurel, stood behind Cal and stayed her ground as he made his way toward me, sliding his hand in mine and helping me up.
He leaned in and breathed deep. “Christ, Willa. You’re my lifeline, and now this. A beautiful baby. Come on, it’s time to get real. No more living in your faux ecosystem.”
He was obviously mad and didn’t give me a chance to answer but started guiding me toward the door of the suite.
When we passed Jamie, Cal turned and said to Ford, “She’ll be off set tomorrow. I’ve arranged to have an ultrasound and run some labs. Do what you need to make it work. The health of our baby comes first.”
“What about you and her? What do you plan? You’re more than her doctor,” my brother yelled after us and I shot him a look.
“Don’t say anything,” I urged Cal. “We’re making a scene as it is, and the next thing you know the media will be paying attention.”
“I know all about the media and the scenes they make, like you in a red dress with some punk the night after we made a baby. That type of shit is done.”
Cal squeezed my hand and kept moving, leaving me feeling like absolute garbage for what I did and giving me a sense of satisfaction over someone finally listening to me. Over what, I didn’t know, but it felt like Cal heard me.
Billy Conway was spotted leaving Esperanza, a luxury resort in Cabo, with an unidentified man. Wearing large sunglasses and a baseball hat, with her blond hair sleeked into a ponytail, Conway leaned into the tall mystery man’s shoulder. He too was wearing a ball cap, but his brown hair peeked out the sides. We don’t know if he was someone with the movie production (Half-Shell, being produced by her brother, Ford Conway) or a friend or more. The pair certainly looked cozy with his hand at Billy’s lower back and her security detail in tow. They left in a Mercedes SUV to an undisclosed location.
“Just great,” I mumbled to myself, staring at my iPad. Frank had texted with the link and picture spotted online. He didn’t say anything else; his silence spoke for itself. He was ticked by how Cal marched right in and started taking over, making appointments Frank didn’t clear and arranging for rides on his own. Cal knew it would set off Frank, but he wasn’t in the mood to be trifled with, so I’d encouraged everyone to give him a wide berth.
Of course we were captured leaving for the doctor’s office—Cal’s car service idling in the hotel’s front driveway—with Frank walking behind us, likely cursing at Cal.
“Morning.” Cal walked into the suite fresh from a run as if our world wasn’t about to collapse.
I took a sip of the green juice he’d had sent up with my single shot almond milk latte. “Glory comes today, so you won’t have to be in charge of me anymore…” That’s what I led with. Fighting words.
You know what he said?
“I can’t hear you.” While pointing at his earbud.
Crossing over to me and bending down, he placed a kiss on my forehead as if we hadn’t just reconnected after close to two months of not really talking.
His lips didn’t linger long—all our intimate contact had been G-rated and brief over the last forty-eight hours. An arm around me, a peck on the cheek, or a doting caress was about all I received. It was fine with me; I hadn’t green-lit much more.
As I watched Cal striding over to the open-aired wall, looking out at the ocean, the elephant in the room doubled in size.
“Cal.” I said his name, not knowing what would follow.
