Heartbreak Cake (28 page)

“Right,” I say with a clipped tone. “But I’m trying to protect myself and my business, and I really don’t need the extra pressure from you on how to behave. I thought we were okay and that we could talk about all
this
stuff after this weekend.”

Noah shrugs dismissively. “It’s fine, but can’t you see how completely involved you still are with him.”

“No I can’t, and I don’t appreciate you making me feel bad for any of it.”

I give Noah a glare, grab my glass of wine, and zigzag my way through the dancing couples out to the patio area that faces the beach cottages along the bay. I take a seat on a lounge chair to admire the view. I love the homes in the bay. I envy the boldness of the enormous windows that most of the homes have, which allow anyone to peek in and get a look at their lives.

You can tell if someone plays piano, what color their dishtowels are, and if they use their fireplace. Sometimes, you can walk past just when a family is sitting down to dinner, and there’s something calming about seeing people eating together. Passing bowls of rice and a platter of chicken while everyone talks about their day.

“I thought you might be out here,” Josh says, and I look up at him, not overly surprised to find him standing in front of me. “I won’t stay long. That reporter saw me come out here.”

“Then why cause me more trouble? Haven’t you been following what’s happening to me and my business?”

“Yes, and I’m very sorry for all of this. Valentina…isn’t the most private woman in the world. She didn’t handle this right.”

“No, Josh,
we
didn’t handle it right.

He sits in the chair opposite of me and blinks rapidly trying to think of something to say next. But there’s nothing he can say, and I think he finally knows it.

“What do you want, Josh?”

“I want you to know that I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Okay. And, so what?”

“And, I made a lot of mistakes. Not with Valentina, but with you and Eloise. And
our
family. That’s what we were, but I didn’t actually know it. Not until now. And you will never know how sorry I am for all of that.

A part of me just wants to open up conversation, tell him all the things I’ve been feeling. How disappointed I am in him, how much I resent him for giving me a relationship that was only crumbs. But rehashing everything will only make him think that I want to forgive him, or that I even can.

I get up to move past him, but he takes my hand as I try to pass him and laces his fingers through mine. I allow it for a moment. His hand, soft, warm, and familiar. The hand I reached for when we walked across the street or while I drifted to sleep.

“Indira, I am so sorry. I hope one day we can…see each other again.”

“I just can’t Josh.”

I push his hand away and rush through the door to find Lindsey standing there looking guilty holding her reporter’s notebook and her pen.

“Looks like you got your story,” I snap at her before walking back to the dinner table so I can grab Noah and tell him I’m going home. I’d say this night is a total bust.

But he’s nowhere to be found.

As I head toward the ladies room, I pull out my cell phone to check on my voicemails when a pair of hands grabs my shoulders and pulls me into the hallway.

“What the hell!” I yelp while trying to squirm out of the grip.

“Chicken, you look smashing!”

“Simon? Where have you been?” I nearly jump into his arms with delight.

“Saving your ass, Chicken, that’s where I’ve been.”

Chapter 21

Simon never did trust Valentina’s story that she had suddenly come back to California to be a devoted wife and mommy.

He smelled another acting job, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. What could she possibly achieve by leaving her acting career in Italy to move back to Laguna Beach and be the wife of Josh Oliver?

I laughed at his conspiracy theories, always grateful for the loyalty he showed me and the sincere outrage he felt at Josh.

“I told you, Indira. I told you that Valentina Silva was nothing more than a con with a killer pair of legs.”

“Simon, what are you talking about?”

He looks wide-eyed and jittery. A combination of sleep deprivation, vodka tonics, and of coffee, I’m sure. But it’s still him. With his has unruly bedhead he looks more like a mischievous little boy than a man about to turn fifty.

“I can’t believe you’re here, Simon. You have no idea how good it is to see your face.” I throw myself at him and give him a big hug. “You smell like cookies.”

“That’s because I’m wearing a men’s cologne called Sugar Cookie. I’m a strong believer all women love a man who smells like baked goods. And based on the American woman I met on the flight to LA, I promise you, Chicken, she really loves cookies.”

He gives me a sly wink, and I shake my head at him. “Good God, you are incorrigible.”

“I’m just looking for love, Chicken. Lots of love and cookies.”

“You mean nookie,” I tease.

“I went to your shop, and it’s simply charming. Pedro was closing up and being a bastard to some poor intern who was taking out a mountain of boxes to the trash. He was just being such a prat to her. It really made me proud of him, you know? I taught him well.”

“He makes interns cry on a daily basis. You would be beaming.

“Makes it all worthwhile,” Simon says, looking around the dining room. “I need to speak to you in private. Let’s see if we can go into one of those rooms.” He rattles the knob of a door next to the coat check. The door opens and I follow him into a dark room that, when I flip on the light, appears to be the dressing room for Travis’s band.

“Come on, what’s the big secret, Simon?” We take a seat on the couch, and I keep my eye on the door. Just in case.

“I’ve spent some time in Italy. Portofino to be exact.”

“Now you’re just bragging.”

“Stop making jokes! Do you want me to give you something to use against Valentina or not? I know what’s going on, and you are days away from losing your business.”

“Sorry, sorry. Go on.”

“I asked around to friends and agents I know if they knew who Valentina Silva was, and everyone knew she was the smoking hot babe in some terrible soap opera. Well, there was some confusion on her being married, because it seems she had a whole other life in Italy with some bloke.

“They lived together. She invested in his business and they were seen all over town together doing the Italian moped thing and drinking lots of espressos and guzzling wine at night. They were the real thing.”

“That’s not a big deal. Josh and I lived together, we had a life, and those two were supposed to be getting a divorce, so I can see why she would move on.”

“Agreed, but turns out this guy gave her an ultimatum to stay with him and get a divorce, and so she did what she does best and left. She came back to America, and well, you know the rest.”

“That doesn’t really help me much, Simon. She left her boyfriend in Italy to come back to Josh. Sounds okay to me.” I frown in disappointment. I just had the strangest feeling that Valentina was hiding something. Guess that was me being hopeful.

“Wait, I’m not done!” Simon says excitedly. “Ohhh, juiciness. Spill!”

“The actor she was involved with was married to the producer of the show, and she found out, and it wasn’t a good scene.”

“Ouch!”

“Valentina got fired from the show and she and the wife ended up getting in some slap fight at a popular restaurant in Milan about five months ago…”

“No. But that can’t be. She was already here with Josh,” I say slowly.

“Exactly! She went back to Italy to see her boyfriend and they carried on with business as usual.”

The information begins to sink in. “Do you know what that might mean?”

Simon and I grin at each other, ear to ear.

“That baby could be saying ciao, mama!” I squeal with delight at the goldmine this scandal could be. I couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. Here’s Valentina trying to make me look like the worst person in the universe and turns out she wins the prize for most deceitful.

“Yes!”

“Valentina and her boyfriend Tomas are quite the scandal in the Italian celebrity world. He was kicked out of the house by his wife when word spread that Mrs. Josh Oliver is with child.”

“So they think it’s his, too?”

“Everyone does.”

Simon takes out a folder from a backpack he’s carrying and hands me a folder full of pictures of Valentina and Tomas Bonaventura together. Including a photo of them just five months ago eating dinner cheek to cheek at a hotel restaurant.

“I didn’t think she was this…bad,” I finally say after looking at all the pictures. “But I can’t use any of this. It’s not my place.”

“No, Chicken. It is your place. You have to think of this as survival. It’s you or her. You give this to the
New York Times
writer and guess what. All of the heat will be on Josh. And her. Not you, not Pedro, and not Cake Pan. I thought this was what you wanted.”

“Not like this,” I say quietly. “Wait a minute. Do you hear that?” I put my finger on my lips. “There’s someone at the door.” I push Simon toward the back of the room so we can hide behind a row of oversized speakers.

The door opens and Valentina walks in with Lindsey trailing behind her.

“Who is that?” Simon hisses into my ear. “Shut up,” I mouth at him.

“Valentina, I really need to get back to the table. I’m interviewing Pedro, and he has a very pregnant wife, who needs to get home early.”

“Yes, I know. I just wanted to talk to you in private and ask if you had any questions about Indira and Josh. I’m sure she isn’t speaking about her scandal, but I’d be happy to share any background you need.”

“I bet she would,” Simon whispers in my ear. “You going to let her do that to you, Chicken?”

Scowling at him, I raise my hand for him to stop talking into my ear so I can hear what is being said.

“Why would you want to be on the record about this? Doesn’t seem like it would be a smart move. What’s your motive?” Lindsey looks at Valentina with interest, smelling a story underneath the story, and takes a seat on the couch where Simon and I were sitting just a few seconds ago.

“I just want to set the record straight. I want the world to know who she is and what she’s done.” Valentina’s face looks angry underneath the fluorescent lights.

“What did she do?” Lindsey probes, taking out her pen and then seeing a folder next to her purse.

“Oh bugger,” Simon points to the couch where Lindsey is sitting, and it’s the folder with the pictures he had brought me. She picks it up and immediately opens it, her eyes growing bigger with each flip of her hand as she reviews the contents.

“Indira has been relentlessly pursuing my husband for the past year. I tried to look the other way, understanding that she held a torch for him. But he loves me. And I love him. We have waited for each other for a long time, and we’re happy to be reunited. Indira just can’t let go. Heartbreak can be cruel, but she’s too weak to move on.”

“Bitch,” I mutter. Lindsey sets the folder down and gets up from the couch with her notebook and pen in her hand.

“Yes, you’re right, Mrs. Oliver. Is that your last name? Did you take your husband’s surname?”

“Well, I actually go by my stage name, Valentina Silva.”

“I see. What about Bonaventura? Does that name ring a bell?”

Valentina sucks in a breath, but doesn’t miss a beat. Composure intact, she takes a moment to answer.

“Of course, we worked together, Tomas and I. We go back many, many years.”

“Does he know about the baby?” Lindsey fires off. “Yes, he knows Josh and I are having a baby.”