Trouble Me (16 page)

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Authors: Beck Anderson

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Trouble Me
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22: Everybody Loves Me

A
FTER
K
ELLY
A
ND
I B
REAK
T
HE
N
EWS
to the boys, I decide to take care of some unfinished business before we have to leave New York. We’ve only got a few weeks left. It’s stupid, I know, but I call Tucker and have him set it up anyway. I can’t protect Kelly, can’t keep the boys’ lives calm, maybe I can’t even keep my ass alive long enough to provide for this new family of mine, but I sure as hell can shut Tiffany’s down and get Kelly the biggest diamond my money can buy. Eye of the Tiger all the way here, people.

Tucker humors me. Jeremy declares he’s coming along. Mostly, I think, because I usually don’t like to spend money, and here—in the course of what? Two weeks?—I’ve asked him to buy a house on the Oregon Coast for me and now I’m after a huge piece of jewelry. Maybe he’s worried I’m losing it.

Maybe I am. I’m tired. Mind-numbingly tired. I hurt. My damn shoulder. There is no way, absolutely no way to sleep without it hurting. It gnaws at me mercilessly.

This trip to buy a “real ring” gives me a couple minutes alone with Tucker and Jeremy to put my theory out there too. Somebody put a target on my back. Amanda is acting completely insane. Maybe she has something to do with this.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. But I’m scared for Kelly. For the baby. For the boys.

My folks called, and they feigned concern for two seconds. Maybe it was real concern, but no one offered to come down and stay with us, or take the boys up to Pennsylvania. Mom lectured me about my “lifestyle choice,” which I think means she thinks acting is a poor career move, but I’ve never once heard her say a good thing about it, so now certainly won’t be the time when she’s supportive. And I don’t think she’s very supportive about Kelly and me. She’s trying. I think she and my dad are trying. But not “Send your family up here, and we’ll keep them safe for you” trying.

Kelly wouldn’t go, anyway. I think I might feel the same way. I think she’d be safer away from me, but I can’t stand to think of her anywhere but here. My selfishness wins out since it coincides with her stubbornness.

When she goes out for groceries now, I insist that Tucker goes with her, and I’m at loose ends until they get back. And on set is almost impossible. I don’t know how long any of us can maintain.

I keep telling myself we just need to get to LA. Back to a routine. Jeremy’s scouting for a house in a locked-down neighborhood. High walls, 24/7 guards at the gate, the works. I’ll get to work on
Out of Range
, the press will forget about the baby, and we’ll put some distance between us and cars that want to run me over and costars that want to sleep with or kill me, I can’t tell which.

I brood and flip my phone over and over in the elevator. Janus is with me. He’ll deposit me in a big armored Suburban and get himself back upstairs to my family. Jeremy and Tucker are already at Tiffany’s. They insisted on meeting the advance team together.

Some Apotheosis driver picks me up in the garage. He’s bald and looks a lot like Oddjob from the Bond movies. I almost smile at the thought, but he could definitely kick my ass, and it’s been kicked around quite enough already.

It’s late, after the store closing of seven p.m., and, no, I didn’t cheese out and go to the flagship store. Jeremy probably salivated about that photo op for at least a second, but I want privacy, not Aunt Mae from New Brunswick snapping photos from the sidewalk.

So, it’s the SoHo store, and as Oddjob drives down Seventh Avenue, I sit back and try to focus on what I need to tell Tucker. Jeremy will just have to be an accomplice.

The car turns left onto the store’s small street, and the tires hum over the cobbles. Oddjob pulls up to the curb and jumps out to get my door. He’s pretty light on his feet, as big as he is.

No cameras. No one. He hustles me to the front of the store, where a man in a black suit holds the door open, then promptly shuts and locks it behind me. I watch the Suburban pull away and disappear down the dark street.

The store is quiet for a moment. Then Jeremy hollers. It’s what he does.

“My whipped friend! Never thought I’d see the day, brother!” He stands with Tucker and a girl with a bright Tiffany blue blouse and black skirt, her hair short and her lips very red.

“The less you talk tonight, J, the happier I’ll be.” I come to them and shake Tucker’s hand. “Did you scope out some contenders?”

“Lupita here pulled a tray together for you.” He nods to the girl. She smiles with very white teeth in between the red lips.

“Can I get you anything to drink, Mr. Pettigrew?” She reminds me of a flight attendant.

“You know, Lupita, I’d love a water.”

“Still or sparkling?”

“Surprise me. I need to have a few words with my team for a minute, before you come back with that water.”

A tiny crease in her smooth brow pops up and then disappears. She smiles widely again. “Of course. Take your time. I’ll be back.”

She glides away, her heels clicking on the polished floors. The man at the door stands guard. The street is still empty.

Tucker looks worried. “What?”

“I wanted to talk, and I can’t figure out how to get you alone in the condo or on set, so here we are.”

Jeremy shakes his head. “Wait, we’re here to talk privately? You couldn’t ask for a moment alone with your security staff?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Shut up for a minute. You’ll get it if you actually listen.”

“Go on.” Tucker leans in.

“Amanda. I think you need to look at Amanda for all of this.”

Jeremy opens his mouth again. “For what?”

“Jeremy, I’m serious about the shutting the hell up part.” I’ll punch him, I’ll do it.

“Yes, sorry.”

Tucker’s gears are already turning. “Tell me.”

“She was with us on the curb.”

“She was in front of you.”

“Wait, that wasn’t an accident?” Jeremy’s blabbing again. “Somebody pushed you? What in the—”

This time I ignore Jeremy and continue. “But she has people. She could’ve hired someone. In the makeup trailer, she was seriously weird. Then the hiding in my trailer and dish throwing, that was full-on aggressive. I just say look at her for it.”

Tucker nods, and he motions to Lupita, who waits with a carafe. “You can come on over.”

Jeremy looks disappointed. “That’s it? That’s what all the cloak and dagger was about?”

Tucker looks straight at him. “Do you not hear what we’re saying? This isn’t an accident. Someone wants to hurt Andrew. On purpose. Kill him.”

“So, get the FBI in, get law enforcement. Get it handled.” Now Jeremy’s gone from lost little puppy to killer German Shepherd.

Tucker finishes the conversation. “They’re in the loop, and now so are you. Keep your mouth shut on this one. This isn’t some casting rumor.”

Jeremy nods. His lips are a grim line. “Fine.” Lupita hands me a glass of water, and Jeremy breaks out in a smile. “So, let’s get a big fat diamond, why don’t we?”

He’s about to clap me on the back, like he always does, when he remembers the chunk taken out of my shoulder and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

Lupita goes behind the counter and pulls out a velvet tray. “What do you have in mind, Mr. Pettigrew?”

“Something in line with my agent here: ridiculously overpaid and too big for his britches.”

“You got that right, son. I’m a living Eye of the Tiger.”

She pulls a large diamond out of the tray. “Something like this?”

I take it from her. It fits on the first section of my ring finger. It’s actually quite beautiful, a bit yellow in color, and set in a thicker gold band.

“I love it.”

Jeremy looks at me. “You do?”

“Sure. What’s not to love?”

“It, no offense, looks like a hooker ring. You’d buy a prostitute off with that ring after a nasty night in Vegas, one she needed to not blab about.”

Who knew Jeremy would care? “Good eye,” I tell him. “Tucker, what do you think?”

“We’re picking a ring out for Kelly here because?”

“The grand gesture. Life is short. I want to spare no expense, and she deserves something for putting up with me.” My voice cracks at the last of the sentence. I swallow.

Tucker looks straight at me. “She needs you as much as you need her. You know that.”

I shake my head. “No, not so much. She doesn’t need to be near me. What all of you would advise her to do, if you were smart, would be to get the hell back to Boise and the hell away from me.”

Tucker takes me by the elbow and turns me away from Lupita. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“This is self-pity. This might be a tiny bit about her. But mostly you’re tired, and you’re wishing your life wasn’t what it is.”

“Maybe. But maybe I don’t deserve her, Tuck.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s not your decision to make. She’s made hers. And here she is, in New York, pregnant with your baby. She thinks you deserve her. Be worthy of that.”

“I can’t keep them safe. I can’t give them the life they need.”

“Yes, you can. That’s why you have me, and God, I hate to say it, but why you have Jeremy. I can keep you all safe, and he can help you get where you want to be, give them whatever kind of life you want to give them.”

I cover my face with my hands for a minute.

“Take a deep breath. Think about that smile of hers, the one she has when she’s with you. You do that. You’ve made her happy. You both stuck together. You’re here. Own it.”

I nod. I know he’s right. “I’m just so damn tired, Tuck.”

“Yes, you are. Let your heart tell you what ring to get, and let’s go home. I want to watch SportsCenter, and you want to cuddle with your almost-wife.”

Jeremy butts in. “Are we doing this?”

“Definitely.” I answer, suddenly clear again about my reason for being here, my reason for being anywhere.

“When are you giving it to her?” Tucker asks me but keeps his eyes on the front door, as a group of people walk by outside. He hasn’t settled down since the accident. It probably didn’t help that I told him how Amanda’s been acting.

“I’m not sure yet. I want to tell her about the house in Oregon. Maybe we can get away. I could give it to her up there.”

Jeremy sighs. “And you’re going to squeeze the being-an-actor part into your busy schedule when exactly?”

I ignore Jeremy. “Let’s look at something different, Lupita.”

Lupita picks up another ring. “Vintage, perhaps? This is an antique from an estate sale.”

I finger the delicate band, look at the emerald-cut diamond. Much more Kelly. “I like this. Jeremy?”

“Classy. Much better.” He nods. “Kelly’s a good girl. You’re a lucky man.” He says it with a softness that’s not usually his style.

“You’re right.” I look at Tucker, who smiles back. “You’re right, J. I’m a lucky, lucky man.”

23: New York State of Mind

T
ESSA
C
AN’T
C
OME
T
O
V
ISIT
A
NY
F
ASTER
. We have two weeks to go here in New York. Hunter’s still mad. Andrew’s exhausted. I’m going crazy without running. The only people who seem halfway their normal selves are Beau, Tucker, and Jeremy—and that thought scares me. When Jeremy starts to seem like a normal person, and worse, like a normal member of the family, that’s cause for concern.

The diversion that is Tessa will be good for all of us. Tucker, bless his soul, made all the arrangements for her and the triplets. He even wrote up a little itinerary, and Beau, bored because he’s one of the few people not hurt or pouting or both, helped him make a poster of the plan for their visit. Then Beau taped it with duct tape to the side of the Viking fridge, which just about sent Jeremy into orbit, since this condo is a rental. Because Mr. Multi-Millionaire Andrew couldn’t pay for a sticky mark on an expensive refrigerator, I guess. At least Jeremy’s careful with Andrew’s money.

Tucker and Beau are the receiving team for the girls. They drive a big Suburban to the airport to collect them for their four-day visit. It’s not very long, but Joe couldn’t get away, and traveling with the girls on her own, Tessa is brave to stay as long as she is. I owe her for coming.

Andrew went with Janus to set and is due back at a somewhat reasonable hour. Night shoots wrap up next week, which’ll be a relief.

Rudy did the MRI on my knee last week, and I haven’t gotten results back. Right now, I sport either an ice pack or a heat wrap on the offending knee every minute Andrew isn’t in the condo. When he’s home, I ditch it. He doesn’t need to worry more than he already does.

We share that. I sleep for the baby, because of the baby—but if I didn’t have to, I’d probably be awake and worrying most of the time.

Hunter shuffles into the kitchen. He dressed today, even took a shower after swimming laps this morning. He wears a polo over his board shorts.

“Are they on the way?” he asks.

“Do I detect a hint of anticipation?” I tease. But I tease him gently, because he’s burst into tears and/or tirades three times at the drop of a hat since the news about Boise. I tread lightly.

“I want to see Tessa. I like Tessa, Mom.” He finds a box of Life cereal and digs a hand into it, pulls out a fist of the squares.

I pull him into a hug. “I’m sorry about how things are working out, Hunter. I know you miss Boise. I do too.”

“Maybe Tessa will reconsider me staying with her.”

Tessa shot that idea down without even having to ask me, but it was because she knew I’d kill her if she took him under her wing.

“Maybe. At least we get to go to Boise for your birthday. Fourteen. You’re getting so big.”

He drifts away from me. “I get it, Mom, you know.”

“What?”

“I know why we need to stick together. I wouldn’t want to leave Andrew, either.”

“Really?”

He looks up at me with cheeks full of cereal and nods. “I like him. I don’t want him to be sad. I worry about him. And you.”

My heart sinks. “We need to offer stock on the worrying going on around here. Our initial offering would blow the roof off Wall Street. Too many brains around here worrying.”

“We need a designated worrier. We could each take turns.” Hunter smiles. I haven’t seen that in a while.

“I like you smiling. You’re my handsome boy. You need to smile.” I hug him again.

He gets up to dig in the cereal box. “Whatever.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek, mouth still full.

“Please don’t slobber on me.”

The door swings open in the front hall, and all of a sudden there are high-pitched squeals, a tangle of little-girl voices.

“Here we go. Pink princesses attack.” Hunter heads to the foyer.

“Hunter?” I stop him.

“Mom?” He looks over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry again. I love you.”

“Life happens, Mom. We need to be together. I get it. But I better get the most amazing Boise birthday party known to young man.”

“Bet on it.” I take his hand, and we go to meet Tessa and the girls. Everything seems just a little bit lighter.

Moments later, it’s chaos. I feel bad about how unruly Beau and Hunter can be, but when Tessa and the terrible trio roll in, I feel less bad.

“My girls!” I call to the triplets: Genevieve, Josie, and Jasmine, little black-haired, half-Japanese, half-Italian dolls.

They all run to me, dropping carry-on bags, toys, purses, all sorts of little-girl debris. “Kelleeeee!” I get three hugs around the legs and try to stay on my feet in the enthusiasm.

Tessa comes behind them. “Lord, look at you! You’re really preggers!” She peels kids off of me and kisses my cheek.

I want to cry. Seeing her is a relief. Someone I know, I trust, someone from my old, mostly predictable life. “Look at you, not pregnant! Lucky thing.” I hug her a long, long time.

“I missed you, Kelly Jo. Are you okay?” She gives me the Tessa look, peering into my eyes for the truth she’s sure I won’t share willingly.

“I’m okay. Especially now that you’re here.”

“The accident. How terrifying. I just immediately knew you’d be distraught.”

I bite my lip. All the kids are still milling around the entryway. Beau is at the I-love-listening-in-to-grown-up-conversation stage. I appreciate that he still acknowledges my existence, but he doesn’t need to hear how I really feel about Andrew getting hurt.

Tessa takes the cue, looks at the boys, and points her finger in command. “Hunter, Beau, your mom and I are gonna do the girlfriend catch-up thing. Can you take the girls in the kitchen and feed them whatever didn’t get smashed in their carry-ons? There should be goldfish and juice boxes.”

Hunter rolls his eyes. Beau smiles. He loves to be in charge. “Let’s go, kiddos.” The girls grab on to parts of him and head to the kitchen.

“Show me some extravagant room,” Tessa says once they’ve gone. “Do you have a salon or a parlor or something? Isn’t that what rich people have in their houses?”

I smile. “Would a study do?”

“Does it have overstuffed leather furniture?” She smiles slyly.

“Of course.”

“Lead the way.”

We sneak down the hall and open the door to the study. She nods appreciatively and plops down in Andrew’s leather chair.

“So, toots, what’s up?”

I sit across from her on the couch and put up my feet. “Tessa, I’m pregnant, for crying out loud. My knee is rebelling. Poor Andrew is a mess. Hunter threw a fit about not getting back to Boise for the semester. What’s
not
up?”

She sighs. “You’re certainly cornering the lots-of-shit-going-down market at the moment.”

I look at her. “It’s not terrible. Everybody’s tired. We get to come home for Hunter’s birthday. It’ll get better. I love New York, but it’s a zoo at the moment.”

“You should swim. Joe said to tell you to swim. It’ll help while you can’t run. And he’ll work you in when you get home. Rudy’s been sending him copies of your charts, like you asked, so he knows what’s up. Nothing a little rehab won’t cure.”

I nod. “When’s it going to stop, though?”

“What?”

“The craziness. I feel like Andrew and I keep waiting to fall into a rhythm. It’s not happening.”

“Give it time. You have a whole life together. Everything ebbs and flows.”

“What if we don’t?” I choke up a little.

She gets up. “Oh, hon, now I know where you’re going with this. Of course, of course, you’re going to think about that. After Peter, how could you not? But Andrew’s okay. He’s safe. And you? You’ll be fine. You can’t sit around and wait for the other shoe to drop. That’s no life.” She sits down and puts an arm around me.

“I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s do lots of stupid New York tourist stuff that my movie star boyfriend is way too cool to endure.”

She pats me on the back. “Stop one is the American Girl Place. There will be a princess riot if we don’t check that off the list.”

“Hunter and Beau may die, but maybe Tucker can take them somewhere else, and we can meet up.”

“I was counting on a three-on-three adult-to-triplet ratio. We need man-to-princess coverage.”

“I could ask my new friend, Mari. She’s nice.”

Tessa raises an eyebrow. “You met someone?”

“Why do you always doubt my friend-making abilities?”

“’Cause you suck at meeting new people.”

“Well, she’s nice. She’s a design student. She’s even babysat for the kids.”

“Wow. She didn’t do an Andy Pettigrew freak out?”

“No. Though I think she’s figured out who he is. But everybody in New York knows he’s here, so why should she be any different?” I consider Andrew’s words of warning. I get what he means, but I like the feeling of having someone here in New York. I hold back sharing Andrew’s worries with Tessa.

Tessa pats my arm. “I think it’d be great to meet your New York friend who sounds way too hip for either of us. Let me guess—she’s young too, huh?”

I nod. “Young and really adorable. And tiny skinny. And blond.”

“Great.” Tessa stands up and pulls me off the couch. “Just keep her in front of you, like a big handbag. She’ll disguise your belly. They do that on TV shows all the time.”

The next day Mari comes along on our New York tourist bonanza. Tessa is right; three adults seem almost essential to keep her little pack of ravens in line. Hunter and Beau try to help, but when faced with the American Girl storefront, they can’t run away fast enough. I think even Tucker is relieved to not have to go in.

No photographers tailed us on the way out of our building, and for now, in the store, we don’t seem to be drawing anyone’s attention. I almost feel normal.

The girls are all dragging around the dolls they already own. Tessa has promised them either a new doll with an outfit or some accessory for the old one. Currently Josie is trying to convince Tessa that a horse and stable and extra doll all count as an accessory for her old doll.

Mari sits with me and the other two girls on the couch centrally located in the store. The girls are fading. Genevieve sucks her thumb and leans into Mari’s shoulder. The little girl’s basically asleep, and her sister Jasmine, on my lap, is close.

“Tessa’s nice. Thanks for bringing me with you all.”

I give a little elbow. “I’m rubbing off on you. You almost said
ya’ll
.”

She pats the small black head bobbing into slumber next to her. “I like kids. I miss being around them.”

“You mentioned your little brother.”

She closes her eyes for a second. “I miss him. It’s hard to talk about.”

I don’t want to push. I never like when people press for details about Peter. It always feels like they’re looking for gossip. “I bet. I lost my husband. Did you know that?”

“Yeah.” She looks at me. “I think Hunter mentioned it. Is your boyfriend now okay with that?”

“You can call him Andrew. I think you know which Andrew he is too.” I smile, try to tell her with my expression that it’s okay.

Her eyes cloud for a minute, and then she smiles. “I recognized him at the pool. But is he okay with your past?”

“You mean with me being a widow? I think he is. He seems very understanding.”

“What about Boise? Is he okay with Boise?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hunter told me you were supposed to move back to Boise after this shoot, but now you’re not going. Do you think Andrew ever really wanted to move back to Boise, live there?”

I’m not following her tone. “Sure. Why wouldn’t he?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just can’t imagine an actor feeling established enough to take a risk with his career like that.”

Huh. This feels a little sore. It’s a dig? Does she mean to be hurtful? “We both love Boise. That’s where we started dating. It’s our special place.” I sound a little defensive, maybe.

“Oh, well then, ignore what I just said. It’s probably a refuge for him.”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

“But I get what we were talking about before more now, knowing about the Boise thing.”

“What were we talking about before?”

Her eyes and nose crinkle, like she’s got a whiff of New York garbage. “You know, how you were worried about finding your purpose. At the museum.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s tough.”

“Well, and if you love Boise, and Andrew needs to be in LA to work, I can see how being disconnected from what you know, and where you’ve worked before…I can see how that would leave you feeling a bit like you’re tagging along.”

“Sometimes.” I shift. I don’t know if it’s because Jasmine is getting heavy as she drifts off, or if the conversation makes me uncomfortable.

“But Andrew’s great. I can tell, you know, from what you say about him. I can tell he’s terrific.” Mari smiles and touches my elbow, and her expression is so soft and full of concern. I like this. I have a new friend and an old friend, and for the first time in a while, I feel safe. Like people care about me. It’s a good feeling.

“You know how you saw us swimming that one time?” I ask her.

“Yeah?”

“I’m supposed to swim. I can’t run anymore. You want to swim with me, until I have to go to Boise? Like every morning?”

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