I turn in his arms. “Of course I want to be with you. But, this isn’t about me. No one wanted me when I was a kid. It breaks my heart to think you wouldn’t do everything you can to be with your child all the time, to be there for every scraped knee, soccer trophy, and broken heart. Because that’s the Buck I know—the one who looked out for me all my life. He’d want that.”
He sets his jaw. “I’ll tell you what: If this baby turns out to be mine, even though it won’t, I promise I’ll do my best to be the dad you and I never had. To do right. But I want you in my life. This won’t be the first kid to live with parents who aren’t together. Especially in Hollywood.”
The look on his face is so hopeful. But even if that’s enough for him, I don’t know if I can be a party to that. It just seems wrong.
“The conference call with Razor Wire went great—except for one thing. They want to move up the production dates. Six days. They want me there in six fucking days.” I wipe the perspiration from my forehead as I tromp through the trees on my way home from Lou’s.
Bob answers. “Well, you have to make it happen, short notice or not.”
“Can they really do that? The contract says things aren’t supposed to start for another three weeks.”
“Razor Wire Entertainment is one of the largest production companies in the business. If you fuck them—hell, even if they just perceive that they’ve been fucked, they could black-ball your ass.”
“You think they’d do that?”
“I hate to break it to you, kid, but there’s another Buck Wylder just waiting to jump into your role with only a moment’s notice. A shit ton of young almost superstars will make it work. And you could end up making movies where the lead role is portraying a kindergarten teacher or a nanny. That’s not exactly where you want your career going…is it?”
Buck went back to his Nan’s yesterday. Twenty-four hours, almost exactly, that I haven’t laid eyes on him, even though he’s just next door. I can’t help but admit that I miss him.
He’s texted a couple of times, but he’s busy finishing up filming the segments they need for Celebrity Homecoming. That must mean he’ll be heading to California soon. I swallow the sour taste that thought sends to the back of my throat.
No. It’s good that he’s going home. He needs to deal with this Arianne-slash-baby situation. And I have shit to finish for Aunt Delores so I can move forward with my life. No idea what that will look like, but I need to figure it out.
At least one positive thing will come of him heading west: the paparazzi will probably follow him and leave the rest of us peons in peace.
A brisk knock sounds at the front door. Well, it can’t be someone with a camera, because Thug Three would have shooed them away.
I wrench the handle, opening the door.
My smile falters. “Oh, it’s you.”
Trudi Perky-Pants frowns. “Well, nice to see you, too.”
“What do you want, Terrier?”
“You know, you could be nicer. You might like me if you give me a chance.”
I take in her designer duds and her spiky, wonderfully straight hair, shaking my head. “Doubtful.”
“Well, wait until you hear what I have to say. Then decide. Until then, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but only because Buck’s so taken with you, and I like him.”
I clasp my hands and hold them up by my ear, as if hugging myself. “Gee, that just makes me want to grab your hand so we can skip through the wildflowers and be besties forever and ever.”
Terrier—I mean Trudi—glares. “Fine, be that way.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
I sit at Nan and Pops’ table, my leg bouncing almost out of control. Trudi shoots me a dirty look. Fine.
I stand and pace the length of the kitchen, moving into the living room. “Where is he? Why on Earth isn’t he here already?”
Nan sits at the table, her hands folded at her chin, eyes closed as she says, “Lou, just be calm. Everything will work out the way God wants. Whatever is true and right will prevail.”
“Sorry, Nan. Of course, this is the right thing. It is.”
Finally, Buck pushes through the door with yet another large bouquet. It’s a shame they’re for a different woman this time.
I swallow hard when Buck doesn’t greet me with any sign of affection, just a solemn nod. I bite the inside of my lip, nodding in return.
A knock at the front door sends a cold hand of fear straight through to my heart. I told Buck he should do right by his child, but having a front row seat to watch it happen isn’t exactly what I had in mind.