“No!” I burst out.
I feel all eyes on me.
“Let’s get inside,” Iz suggests. “Before they take any more photos and claim we’re all gang banging.” Only Izzy could come up with something like that, I swear.
“Jesus, Iz,” Sadie says as we make our way inside. Our gazes are still all locked on the cell phone; JB is more like the Pied Piper than a small town baker, but we’re all poised to see what’s next.
“Knowing our handsome country crooner, this could be more than just a spring fling. A source tells us this romance could’ve been going on secretly for months, but we think this loved up couple could have been hiding out long before that,” JB goes on. “We’re not starting any rumors over here, but it leaves one wondering—could this mystery woman be…Oh my god!”
I freeze. “Could she bewhat?” I try not to screech.
JB shakes her head, a hand over her mouth, as we all wait with bated breath.
Sadie, the only sane one here, takes over. “Could this mystery woman be hiding the early signs of a baby bump?” She tsks, then glances at me sympathetically. “What a jerk. You do not look pregnant!”
My eyes widen. My god! You have one extra piece of mud cake with a healthy dollop of double cream, and everyone loses their minds.Pregnant?The nerve!
“What the fuck?” I growl, grabbing the phone. Someone actually took the picture of ournon-kiss, zoomed in on my perfectly flat stomach, and circled it. “How dare they!” I shout. “So what if I had a food coma baby? They’ve no right to weight shame someone! Goddamn asshat.”
Brett winces, looking more troubled as the morning ticks on. “Damn asshole. I’ll slap a cease and desist on him and get themagazine to retract what he wrote,” he tells me. “Bailey, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, not wanting him to get stressed. “None of this is your fault.”
“By the way, if youwerepregnant, which we know you’re not,” JB says. “They have no right to print something like that. Zooming in on your body? Ick!”
“Oh, I’ll have a nice little chat withBenny Jamisonwhen I choke him with those stupid suspenders,” I say, screwing up my nose when his picture appears at the bottom of the article.
“That’ll be after I break his fucking nose,” Brett affirms. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I need to make a few calls.”
I know what he’s thinking: that I won’t stick this out, but he’s wrong. I can deal with whatever these asswipes throw at me. I’m made of tough stuff, and that’s something Brett has to come to realize.
I know who I am, and I know who I’m not.
I also know what I want…
CHAPTER 23
Brett
I’m furious, to say the least. How dare they not only trespass onto Bailey’s property, but take a photo without consent, then circle her stomach with news of a fake baby story? I swear some of these people are evil.
The phone rings twice as I switch it to speakerphone and answer. “Brett?” My lawyer, Andre Fields, says. “I’ve been trying to call you forever.”
He missed my call just now, but quickly returned it. It makes me feel a little bad I haven’t returned his calls recently.
“I know, and I’m sorry about that. I needed breathing room.”
“I heard you fired Richard, that was probably a smart move. He was a bloodsucking leech.”
I should mention Andre says it like it is. I’ve known him for a long time, and while we aren’t close friends per se, he’s a good guy to have in my corner. He also represented me in court and has a genuine concern for my well-being. For him, it isn’t just about the paycheck.
“Tell me about it. It was long overdue. I guess when someone accuses you of a crime you didn’t commit, you certainly find out who your friends are.”
“No truer words spoken. I’m assuming you weren't calling before to chat about the weather in Wyoming.”
I palm the back of my head. “Ah, you’ve seen the headlines.”
“Apparently you’ve been gone for a week and you already knocked up some local chick, yeah, Mr. Big Time, I saw it.”
