Celeb Crush (45 page)

Dr. Eichenlaub is a pleasant older woman with very large hands that Megan did not warn me about.  After an uncomfortable exam, she wheels forward a portable ultrasound machine that I hadn’t noticed in the corner of the room. 

“Let’s see if we can figure out how far along you are,” she murmurs, moving the giant wand inside of me, and turning her attention to the screen.

I hadn’t expected an ultrasound today, but I had prepared myself in advance for it by talking with Megan, and watching videos online of ultrasounds from weeks six to twelve.  What I wasn’t prepared for was seeing my own little jellybean baby moving its stubby appendages in the fuzzy images on the screen. 

I am riveted by that tiny alien creature disappearing and reappearing like a magic trick.  My baby…and Luke’s.  But mostly mine.  A painful kind of warmth fills me.  That’s
my
kid in there, dancing around and looking like a fat little alien bean.  It’s kind of…amazing.

“Looks like you’re eight weeks and two days,” Dr. Eichenlaub is saying after calculating the measurements.  “Everything looks good so far…”

I barely hear her, too entranced with the baby blob on the screen.  For the first time I think of the kid, not just as an abstract concept—but as a living breathing being.  I wonder what it will be like.  Will it have Luke’s dragon green eyes?  My dark hair?  Is it a boy or a girl?  I suddenly realize that I have no preference, I just want it to be healthy. 

What if it’s not healthy?  I try to recall when was the last time I had a drink—or popped an over-the-counter pain pill.  I can’t remember, and I take that as a good sign.  I’ve already cut down my caffeine intake, and fish—I already know I’m not supposed to eat certain kinds.  They gave me a folder full of stuff I’m not supposed to do, or eat, or even look at.  I’ll look through it tonight.

Dr. Eichenlaub hands me three printed out pictures of the ultrasound, and tells me she’ll see me in about four weeks.  Nurse Dory comes in with forms for my blood tests, and solemn reassurances of confidentiality.  She also extends her congratulations to me and my fiancé, Pablo.  I absently thank her and mumble something about how thrilled Pablo will be with the ultrasound pictures.  She gives me an oddly satisfied look, winking at me as I leave.  I keep throwing her suspicious looks as I head over to the front desk to make my next appointment.  I should have kept my mouth shut about Pablo.  No, wait…Tulio—shit.

I leave the building with a pounding heartbeat.  I feel alive and hopeful for the first time since…that night.  My baby.  Finally, someone that’s programmed to love me best, and unconditionally.  Visions of me and the kid fill my thoughts.  He or she will be my little sidekick, looking at me with stars in his/her eyes, and eager to follow my every command.

Later that night, I start to realize that the relationship I’m envisioning is more of a dog-to-owner thing than that of a mother/child.  I’ve never had a dog before.  Maybe I should get one as practice for the kid?  I’ve always wanted a border collie named Sheeples.

I know I need to tell Luke.  After all, this baby is—let’s go with fifteen percent—his.  I don’t know how he’ll react.  There’s no question that he’ll take care of the kid and want to help raise it; I just don’t think he’ll be thrilled at the circumstances.  He certainly didn’t seem enthused at the prospect of fatherhood when he thought Kat might be pregnant.  What did he say—that he didn’t want that kind of responsibility at this stage of his life? 

Also, I’m sure he doesn’t think of me as mother material.  What if tries to take it away from me since he thinks I’m crazy?  I’ll tie him up in a basement in the middle of nowhere if I see so much as a trace of doubt on his face.  I’ll…

Okay, this is Luke.  He wouldn’t do that to me.  Maybe we can’t be together anymore, but we can work with each other to raise the baby.  I have no problem accepting his financial assistance.  My kid is going to have the best of everything.

I’m going back to school—online courses for now, until my notoriety fades.  I also have an interview at a medical clinic for an electronic scanning position.  It’s the easiest job in the world—I know because I held the same position a few years ago.  I basically sat in the room the size of a storage closet, scanning document after document into an electronic filing system—simple as pie and perfect for someone with no customer service skills.

I’m making plans.  I’m going to move out of Ellen’s mother-law-house right after the baby’s born, on account of Nonna Gena’s ghost.  The other night, I woke up to a lavender-scented kiss.  Not on the cheek, either.  I’m not sure if I’m going to get an apartment in Sea Wind, or if I’ll move somewhere else.  But if I move, who’s going to watch the kid while I’m at work or school?  I wouldn’t trust just anyone watching it.  There are a lot of evil people out there.  In fact, I might have to homeschool him/her. 

Damn it.  Okay, I’m going to do like Megan suggested, and take it one day at a time.  What the hell; staying in Sea Wind might not be the worst idea in the world.  My kid could grow up with family—with Meegles and Bran’s kid, and everyone else.  It could be kind of nice.

The few days I’ve been back have been good.  Who would have thought that Megan and I would bond over babies?  Not me, that’s for damn sure.  I even find myself getting along with Bran again, almost like the old days.  Once in a while, I’ll look at him and wonder how we could have ever ruined our relationship by sleeping together.  Looking at his gentle skater boy face has me reevaluating our history, and makes me realize that he was less a boyfriend than my…victim.  I’m starting to think I owe him an apology.  Hm.

You know who I’ve really gotten close to?  Ellen’s fiancé, Earl.  Talking to him is almost like talking to myself, but in a good way.  He tells me that I need to let myself love, and be loved.  I thought you didn’t really have a choice—but then what do I know?

I got the job.  I start on Monday, which handily gives me plenty of time to take a trip to Wilmington, North Carolina.  The prices to fly there are ugly, so thank god for those frequent flyer miles of Luke’s.  I’m not looking forward to the long flight and the two stopovers, but as a normal non-celebrity, I don’t exactly have access to private jets and first class seating anymore.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I already miss the perks of that lifestyle, especially now that my bladder has apparently shrunk to the size of a pea, and needs to be emptied every twenty minutes.

I don’t even wanna talk about the bloat.

I call Nate while I’m in the taxi, on the way to the riverfront hotel I hope they’re still at.  He’s pleased to hear from me.

“What the hell, Anderson?!  Where the fuck are you?!”

I wince, pulling the phone away from my ear.  I notice the taxi driver looking at me through the rearview mirror.  I smile coolly at him before turning my attention back to Nate’s scolding.  He sounds like a stern potty-mouthed mom.

“—everywhere for you!”

“Look, I’m about five minutes away from the hotel,” I interrupt his tirade.  “Are you in your room?  Can I come up and talk to you?”

Nate pauses, obviously taken by surprise.  “Yeah, yeah, sure…I’m here.  But what about Luke?”

“I don’t want to see him yet,” I say quickly.  “Just you.  Don’t tell him I’m here, okay?  Please?”

“Andi.  You don’t know how—”

“Nate.”  I briefly close my eyes.  “Please.”

After a tense moment, he finally relents.  I ask to meet him in his hotel room, and he hesitantly gives me his suite number.  I hope he has enough time to get rid of whatever girl he was undoubtedly hooking up with before I called.

I should have just talked to Luke, but I’m a coward.  No, I’m not going to tell Nate about the baby.  I’m going to ease into the situation, find out what Luke’s been up to before I spring the news on him.  I’ll most certainly ask to see him later tonight—early morning, at the very least.

I have the taxi driver drop me off half a block away.  I’m not surprised to see a big mixed crowd of photographers and fans loitering around the front of the hotel.  Even though it’s expected, the sight makes me excited and jittery with nerves.  I feel like I’m stepping back into the celebrity world of glitz and glamour after being away for years, when actually it’s been a couple of weeks.

I have no problem engaging an elderly well-dressed man into an intense conversation about the weather, and under the cover of darkness we stroll right through the revolving glass doors.  No one gives us a second look, and once inside I decline the not-so-gentleman’s offer to come up to his room for a blowjob.  He walks away with a shrug and a smile.

I glance around the sleek sophisticated lobby and immediately spot Nate striding toward me.  He looks both happy and pissed, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before ushering me over to the elevators.

“You look good, kid,” he says, scanning me approvingly as we wait for the doors to open.

I give a quick shrug at his compliment.  I’m wearing a floral blush-colored maxi dress—not my usual style, but I’ve been feeling self-conscious about my bloated abdomen.  Almost as a defense, I’ve applied more make up than usual— though I think I’ve rubbed off most of my lipstick by now.  My hair is different, too, cut in a sleek layered style with side swept bangs that skim over my left eye.  Luke would always tell me how much he loved my wild long waves, and when I decided on impulse to get it cut—all I could do was wonder if he’d hate it. I guess I cut it to spite him, but really, I doubt he’ll give a shit about my hair.

Nate and I manage to get a car by ourselves (maybe one of us jabbed the close button repeatedly though a trio of women were clearly making a run for it).  I can tell he really wants to rip into me, but is showing admirable restraint.  I watch the floor numbers flash by on the display, trying to keep my expression nonchalant.

“I thought we were tight,” he blurts out suddenly.  “How could you cut me out, Andi?  I may be Luke’s friend—but I’m yours, too.”

I look away from his wounded blue eyes.  “I didn’t want to talk to anyone, Nate.”

After a few seconds, he heaves a sigh.  “I don’t blame you, kid.  Not after the way those bitches railroaded you.  He fired her, you know.”

My head comes up at that.  “Jessica?  When?”

“I don’t know…a  couple days after you took off?”

“Then who…?”  I trail off with a frown.  “Who fed the press the engagement rumors, then?  Unless they’re not really rumors…”

Nate snorts.  “That’s all Kat’s publicist.  Luke and Kat are barely speaking to each other.”

We reach the fourteenth floor and the doors soundlessly slide open.  In a daze, I follow Nate out of the elevator, trying to digest the new info.  I’m not sure how to feel about it.

I barely pay attention as he opens the door to his suite and gestures me in.  I check my phone for the time, and I’m surprised to note that it’s already almost nine.  “Is Luke in his suite?” I ask Nate over my shoulder.

“No, I’m not.”

My heart threatens to jackhammer out of my chest at the sound of that famous husky voice.  I turn around slowly.

And there he is, Hollywood’s golden boy, Lucas Greyson. 

The father of my baby.

Chapter 38

I drink in the sight of him.  My gaze crawls greedily over his beautiful face, those intensely bright gold and green eyes.  That tall strong build, the contours of those long lanky muscles visible under his dark blue shirt.  The way his jeans hang from his slim sculpted hips.  So freaking sexy.  And so out of my reach.

I am so mesmerized by him that it takes me a while to realize that he’s looking at me in the same way.  Our gazes tangle together and have hot animal sex before I can tear myself out of his spell.  I forcefully turn away.

My attention lands on Nate, who is still holding the door open and actively avoiding my eyes—probably because he doesn’t want to see his death in them.  “You promised,” I say, my voice low as I try to keep it from shaking.

“I know.”  At least Nate’s tone is regretful.  He exchanges a short look with Luke.  “But I promised him first.”

Then he walks out the door, firmly closing it behind him.  No smartass comment…nothing.  Very un-Nate like. 

I exhale softly, keeping my head bowed.  Here is my chance to tell Luke about the baby.  I’m suddenly shy.  My hand comes up to rest on my stomach, but I quickly drop it back down to my side.  I don’t want to bring attention to that part of my body.  I’d rather he look at my new porn star breasts.  No, wait.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to gather my courage.  When I open them again and look up, I realize that Luke has moved closer to me.  He’s just a few feet away now, and the amount of electricity generated between us is almost painful.  His jaw is clenched tightly, and there’s that vertical line between his brows.  His mouth is grim but his eyes are all sex and violence, and pain.

“You cut your hair,” Luke says softly, reaching out as if to touch it.

I jump away like he’s fire.  My resolve is crumbling.  “I can’t do this right now,” I mumble, pulling the door open.

Lightning quick, he reaches a hand out and slams it shut.  I whip around to glare at him, and he rewards me with a sardonic smile.