Previously…
While aiming for a rival, Benji accidentally shot Blake in the arm. After being released from jail into Jordan’s custody, Benji manipulated his father into believing he’d been acting out as a result of Suzanne’s disappearance. Miranda, desperate to get over David, went out in search of revenge sex and wound up going home with Eddie. Stormy and Kelly continued to hide their relationship. Ethan informed James that Sunset Studios was in financial trouble as a result of the twenty-five million dollar loan James had taken out against it. Alex caused trouble on the set of Angel Assassin 2, prompting James to worry over the film’s release. Heather continued to keep Brett in the dark regarding their unborn baby’s chances of being developmentally challenged. David continued to pursue Brooke, who refused to become involved with him.
The heartbeat sounded normal. Dr. Mitchell even went as far as saying it was healthy and strong. These words came as a great source of relief to Heather as she lay on the examination table, shivering from a chill in the air and from the sticky gel and medical instruments that had been placed on her stomach. Maybe Madame Valda had been wrong about her prediction last year. Maybe her baby was going to be all right after all.
“You may deliver early,” Dr. Mitchell said as she wiped the residue from Heather’s skin.
“But I still have another month and a half,” Heather insisted, sitting up on the table and pulling her gown over her stomach.
“Sometimes the fetus is just ready early.” She smiled hopefully. “That’s a good sign. It means she’s ready to start living.”
Heather felt the corners of her mouth draw into a smile. “That is good news.”
“Have you spoken to your husband yet?” Dr. Mitchell began as she jotted notes into Heather’s chart.
“Yes,” Heather lied. She had endured enough lectures about that subject. Not only from Dr. Mitchell, but from Brooke—the only other person who knew what was at stake. The fact that she hadn’t told Brett about the toxoplasmosis and what it could mean for their child was enough of a burden and a source of guilt.
“I would have thought he’d be here with you.”
Heather’s eyes stung with tears. “He’s very busy. He was going to try to meet me here but—”
“Well, at least you have good news for him. Your baby is healthy and strong. Physically at least.”
Nodding along, Heather got dressed and left the room. Standing at the elevator waiting for the doors to open, she wrapped herself in her trench coat and tugged her purse tightly over her shoulder. When the elevator arrived, she stepped inside and pushed M for Mezzanine.
On the way down, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. All she had to do was hold on for a few more weeks. Her hopes were that their baby would be born perfectly normal and she wouldn’t have to burden her husband at all about the doctor’s concerns. And if she turned out to be anything else….well, she had plenty of time to decide what to tell him.
Movie sets were often plagued with accidents waiting to happen. Anything could go wrong at any given time. There could be a malfunction with the lighting equipment, shorts in electrical supplies, misused props, out of control fires, water spills, and any other hazardous materials one could think of.
The makeup trailer wasn’t an area that yielded many accidents, however, or so Brett Armstrong though until the makeup artist for Damage Control wound up in the emergency room. Brett was in his office at Rydell Productions when he learned of the incident with hot molten latex. The majority of the crew was on lunch so he took it upon himself to rush her to Cedars-Sinai. There he waited for the doctor to give him the woman’s prognosis. Immediately, he began to stress over who was going to do makeup for the film if she was unable to return to work. Selfish, yes, but that was the movie business.
Deciding he needed a pick-me-up, he went down to the cafeteria while he waited. Standing in line for an energy drink, he spotted Heather’s OB/GYN a few spots ahead of him. He’d only met her once, and that was months ago. He wondered what she must think about his never being with Heather at her appointments. Strangely enough, it seemed that every time she had one was when he had to go out of town on studio business.
Deciding it was appropriate to at least say hello to the woman, Brett moved through the line and garnered her attention with a smile and a brief wave.
“Dr. Mitchell?”
“Yes,” she asked.
“I’m Brett Armstrong,” he said. “Heather Armstrong’s husband.”
“Oh yes,” Dr. Mitchell said with a friendly smile. “If you’re here for Heather’s appointment I’m afraid you missed it. I just finished up with her about twenty minutes ago.”
Confusion set in almost immediately. “Appointment?” he asked, then shook his head with an awkward laugh. “No, Heather didn’t have an appointment today. I’m sure she would have told me.”
“I thought you were going to try to meet her in my office.”
Brett shook his head. “No, she didn’t tell me anything about having an appointment. Was it a last minute reschedule or something?”
“No, she’s had the appointment scheduled for some time.” The doctor slowly began to realize that Heather had been dishonest with her.
“Strange,” Brett murmured to himself and raked his fingers through his blond hair. ”It seems that I’m out of town every time she schedules them.”
Dr. Mitchell knew it was none of her business so she tried to say as little as possible. Granted, he was her husband and had every legal right to know what was going on, and she had every legal right to tell him, but her personal ethics told her otherwise.
“Well, you weren’t out of town today,” she simply said, hoping that it was enough to get him to realize something was wrong.
“Right,” Brett said in a daze as he tried to piece together a valid reason why Heather would have lied to him. “Dr. Mitchell, is there something I should know about? Is our baby healthy?”
She chose her words carefully. “Your baby is healthy,” she said.
Brett breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. But if everything’s fine then why wouldn’t she want me to—”
“Mr. Armstrong,” she said and placed a warm hand on his. “Talk to you wife. I think that the two of you need to have a dialog, and I can’t be the one to mediate it. But please, after you speak to her, call my office and set up an appointment if you have any questions at all.”
Before Brett could even respond, she’d dropped a handful of coins at the cash register and darted across the crowded cafeteria. He furrowed his brow, uncertain of what it was she wanted him to talk about with his wife if everything was supposedly fine with their baby.
That evening, Stormy and Ethan were playing pool in the game room at the Blackthorne mansion. Across the room, Kelly sat on the sofa leafing through a magazine while she watched with meager interest.
“We should have made this interesting,” Stormy said and chalked his stick as he eyed the table like an animal watching its prey. “What do you say next time we buy in?”
Ethan took his shot, succeeding in maneuvering three balls into three holes. He grinned slyly and leaned against the table. “Sure. Put your money where your mouth is.”
“On second though,” Stormy said with a good natured laugh.
“Yeah, I thought so.” Ethan turned and looked at Kelly across the room. “You want to play the winner, Kelly?”
She looked up from her magazine and shrugged. “Sure. Why not?” She got up and made her way across the room, tossing a mane of black hair over her shoulder. “I should warn you, though, I used to be the champion back at this little bar I went to in Honolulu.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Stormy said and winked.
Kelly reached into her low cut blouse and removed a roll of twenty dollar bills, dropping it onto the table. “And I do put my money where my mouth is,” she said, her eyes a sultry mix of innocent beauty and provocative seduction.
Stormy and Ethan exchanged harried glances just as Leilani entered the room, a feather duster in one hand and a scowl on her face.
“Kelly,” she said sternly. “Can I speak to you please?”
“Sure mom,” Kelly replied, then turned back to Stormy. “I’ll be back. Why don’t you rack ‘em up?”
Again, Stormy and Ethan looked at one another and both smiled in amusement. After Kelly and Leilani were out of the room, Ethan turned to his cousin and began removing the balls from the pockets.
“She’s a nice girl,” he said.
“Yeah, she is,” Stormy agreed and started to rack the balls.
“How long have you been sleeping with her?” Ethan asked.
It took a few seconds for Stormy to register the question, and when he did he broke into a smile and punched him playfully on the arm. “Is it that obvious?” he asked.
Ethan laughed. “Yeah, it is.”
Outside the room, Kelly followed her mother a few feet down the hall into the conservatory. “What is it, mom? We were just about to play a game.”
Leilani looked disapprovingly at her daughter. “Kelly, you keep forgetting that you’re a guest in this house. You are the help, the same as I am. I don’t play games with the Blackthornes, I don’t eat my meals with them, and I don’t overstep my bounds.”
“Mom, they treat you like family,” Kelly noted. “You’re like a mother to Stormy and Miranda, so don’t tell me that that’s not overstepping. Besides, I don’t work here as a servant. I work at the hotel.”
“You’re still an employee of Mr. Blackthorne.”
Irritated by her mother’s unreasonable demands, Kelly planted her hands firmly on her hips and glared angrily at her. “Stormy is nice to me. Ethan too. They treat me like everybody else, just like they do you. I don’t see what the harm is in me having a little fun now and then. Or would you rather I work all day at the hotel and then come home and sit alone in my room until it’s time to get up and do it all over again?”
“No, of course not,” Leilani insisted.
“You don’t have any right to tell me who I can and can’t spend time with. I swear, ever since I came here all you’ve tried to do is push me away. The only thing you care about is me going back to Ke Liu.”
“Kelly, that’s not true. I just think that Ke Liu was a wonderful man and you should have tried harder to make it work. I hate the thought of you living a life of service the way I have. You can do so much more.”
“I still can,” Kelly said defiantly. “I can be whatever I want to be. I’m not going to stay a maid forever, you know. This is Hollywood, mama. I’m going to be a star.”
“How are you going to do that?” Leilani asked.
“How do you think?” Kelly asked, her tone full of conviction. With that, she spun around and ran back into the game room where Stormy and Ethan were waiting.
James called Brooke and told her he was on his way over. They had business to take care of. Today they were signing the final divorce papers that served as the last step in the six month long proceedings. Rather than have Kenny arrange for the papers to be messengered to Brooke in a thoroughly impersonal manner, he asked to do it himself. They owed their marriage that much. After three turbulent years of two marriages—only one of which was legal—of squabbles, affairs, kidnappings, paternity issues, jealousy, distrust and general dysfunction—they were finally free and clear. And as much as he knew it was for the best, that rationality didn’t make it any easier.
“Good evening,” Brooke said with a refreshing smile and gestured for him to come inside.
James smiled graciously and stepped into her town home. He looked around and nodded approvingly. “This is very nice, Brooke. You have a lovely home.”
“It’s nothing like the mansion, but I like it,” she said.
“Is Roz still staying with you?”
Brooke nodded. “Yes,” she said, then added quickly and with a grin, “don’t ask.”
He smiled and withdrew the papers from his pocket. “I’ve already signed them.”
His pronouncement was oddly unsettling to her. Yes, she knew their marriage was over, but for some unfathomable reason she felt hurt that he’d already signed the papers. It didn’t occur to her until just then that he was in just as much a hurry to get on with his life as she was.
“Let me just get a pen,” she said and started toward the kitchen.
“I have one,” he said and withdrew a silver engraved pen from his pocket.
He brought a pen? Another sign that he’d already moved on. She couldn’t help but reflect on the happier times…
A car horn outside the window caught her attention and, thinking it was her friends finally showing up, she tore across the room to peer outside. The corners of her mouth turned upward into a bright smile when she saw James standing next to his Rolls Royce Limousine by the curb.
“I missed you!” he called up to her.
“James, the girls will be here any minute!” Brooke replied, leaning out the window and gazing down at him. “It’s my bachelorette tonight, remember?”
“I know, I know,” James said with an exaggerated sigh. “But can you blame me for wanting to see you even for a minute?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the rehearsal dinner,” Brooke said, tossing her long mane of hair teasingly over her shoulder.
“Okay, I guess if I have to wait…” James said with a sly grin. He was a dashing, sexy man of forty-four with dark hair and eyes, dressed in a black Gucci suit and a pink shirt—open collar and no tie. “I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”
Brooke smiled, blushing a little as several people jogged by her apartment and did a double take at the fancy car parked by the building. “I love you too!” she called back, deciding to ignore the gawking passers-by. After all, she was getting married to a rich, successful movie producer. She didn’t have a care in the world.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” James said with a wink before he got into the back of the car.
Brooke waved ecstatically at him as she watched the limo pull away and drive down the street. With a smile, she retreated back into the apartment from the window and joyously danced around the living room. She was on top of the world. Who wouldn’t be jazzed to be marrying a man like James Blackthorne?
So much had happened since then, Brooke realized as she put pen to paper and slowly scribbled her signature on the divorce papers. After the six months since their separation, she had a difficult time remembering why things fell apart so quickly. All she remembered were the good times. But then reality would set in and she remembered the betrayals.
“I guess that’s it then,” James said as she handed the papers back to him.
She gestured to the kitchen. “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”
He shook his head. “No, but thank you,” he said. “How is Michael?”
“Good. Michael’s good. My mom’s upstairs tucking him in.”
James looked around the living room again. “This really is a nice place.”
She smiled. “I’ve come a long way since that little apartment in Burbank.”
James laughed fondly. “Yes, you certainly have,” he said. “Listen, I know we settled everything already, but are you sure you don’t need anything else? All the money you got in the settlement went to buying this place. Will you be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said proudly. “I don’t want to minimize our marriage to numbers and dollar signs. This is all I need. I was thinking of going back to work anyway.”
James headed for the door. “Well, please know that you can always come to me if you need anything at all. For yourself or for Michael.”
“Ethan’s been very good,” Brooke said with an awkward smile.
James knew they’d made progress when her mention of Ethan didn’t instill anger in him. Maybe it was because they too were no longer together, but he was more inclined to believe it was because they had all grown since last year.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your evening,” he said and opened the door. Turning to her, he put his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and looked fondly at her. “Goodnight Brooke.”
She started to close the door, then paused, calling after him. “James, wait,” she said.
He stopped and turned back, raising a curious eyebrow.
“Your pen,” she said and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said with a smile and took it from her. Slowly, he turned and stepped off of the porch and down the sidewalk to his car.
Brooke closed the door and listlessly put on the chain. Just as she turned, she spotted her mother standing directly behind.
“Why didn’t you stop it?” Roz asked.
“What are you talking about?” Brooke asked and walked to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
“You could have told him you’d changed your mind. All you had to do was rip those papers up and—”
“Mother, I haven’t changed my mind,” she said with irritation. “Please just drop it.”
“All I’m saying is that what I just witnessed didn’t seem like two people who wanted to get a divorce,” Roz exclaimed and ran the kettle under the faucet. “I know the two of you had problems, Brooke, but I also know that there was a time when that man adored you. I think he still does.”
“Mom, stop,” Brooke warned her. “Besides, I think you need to worry about your own marriage and stop focusing on mine. You still haven’t told me what’s going on with you and dad.”
Quickly wishing to drop it, Roz set the kettle on the stove and threw her hands up in resignation. “Fine, I’ll stay out of it.”
The phone rang and Brooke used the welcome distraction to her advantage. When she answered, she wasn’t surprised to hear David on the other end.
“Hello David,” she said.
Roz stopped what she was doing and turned quickly toward her, casting a disapproving stare at her daughter while she listened.
“David, I don’t know,” she said breathlessly. “I told you it’s too soon to—” A pause while she listened to him. He was one of the most persistent people she’d ever known in her life. “If I say yes, will you drop it? Fine, I’ll go. Tomorrow night. See you then.”
“What was that all about?” Roz asked after she’d hung up.
“David Jennings wants me to go to the grand opening of one of his new hotels tomorrow night,” she said.
“Are you going to?”
Brooke shrugged. “I said I would.”
“Do you think it’s wise that you start dating already? I mean, with your divorce just becoming final and your relationship with Ethan ending so badly.”
“We’re not dating, mother. I’m just going as a friend. David and I are just friends.”
Roz bit down on her lip and eyed her daughter conspicuously. She was now more sure than ever that Brooke should go back to James. David Jennings was not the man for her daughter, and she planned to make sure she knew that.
“What did you do today?” Brett asked as he brought a cup of herbal tea into the living room and set it down on the coffee table.
Heather shrugged and nestled down onto the sofa with a blanket. “Not a lot,” she said. “Just hung around the condo mostly.”
Brett looked into her eyes, hurt that she would lie to him, and confused as to why she would do it. “When do you have your next appointment with your OB?”
Heather hesitated, wishing he would drop the subject as quickly as it came up. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I lost that card thingy that they gave me last time. I’ll have to call the service and find out.”
“I can do that,” Brett said and picked up the phone.
Nervously, Heather fidgeted on the sofa and shook her head with a breathless laugh. “That’s okay,” she said. “I know it’s not for a few more days. I’ll just call tomorrow.”
“But I want to make sure I clear my schedule so I can go,” Brett remarked, fully aware that she was stalling. He’d made the decision to give her the opportunity to come clean with him, but it was getting too difficult to continue with the charade.
“Brett, I said I’ll do it tomorrow.” She was on edge, hating the feeling that she was being cross-examined by her own husband.
Finally he decided to reveal the truth, that he knew something was amiss. “I ran into Dr. Mitchell today,” he began.
“What?” Heather asked in confusion.
“Our makeup artist had an accident and I had to take her to the hospital,” he went on. “Dr. Mitchell said that I’d just missed your appointment.”
Realizing she’d been caught in a lie, Heather struggled to her feet beneath her weight and her sore back and ambled across the room in an effort to avoid eye contact with him.
“Heather, what’s going on?” Brett demanded. “Why are you purposefully keeping me out of your pre-natal appointments?”
She shook her head as a tear fell down her cheek. “I’m not keeping you out of anything” she said. “I just….I just don’t want to disappoint you.”
“How would you disappoint me?” he asked and walked toward her. “Nothing you could ever do would disappoint me.”
She wrung her hands together, angry with herself for lying to him but realizing she had no other choice. She couldn’t tell him the truth. Not yet. Instead, a half-truth formed in her mind and she decided to use it.
“Every time I see Dr. Mitchell I get scared that she’s going to tell me something is wrong with our baby,” she said and slowly turned to him. “I can’t bare the thought of doing that to you, Brett. Not after you lost your first child.”
He approached quickly, pulling her into an embrace. “You don’t have to protect me,” he said. “When Miranda lost our baby it was terrible, but there’s no reason to think that there’s any danger with your pregnancy. Is there?”
She closed her eyes and a waterfall of tears came flooding out. This was the perfect time to tell him the truth. She knew it was the right thing to do. If she continued lying to him now, she’d be guilty of the worst kind of betrayal. How could she live with herself knowing that?
“Heather?” Brett continued and lifted her head. “Dr. Mitchell told me our baby is healthy. Was she lying about that?”
She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “No.”
The next morning, James steered his Rolls Royce through the gates at Sunset Studios, waved to the security guard on duty, and proceeded to his parking space at the front of the building.
Stepping out on to the pavement, he passed a studio tour bus and waved with a generous smile. He walked into the building and made his way to his office where Ethan had a stack of ledgers spread out on a conference table.
“Morning, Ethan,” he said and set his briefcase on his desk. “I was wondering where you were at breakfast this morning. You must have been up and out early.”
He nodded and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve been here since five this morning,” he remarked.
“Is there a problem?” James asked, already knowing the answer.
Ethan rolled up his sleeves and took a deep breath. “That loan payment is coming due tomorrow. We have the funds to cover it, but that will mean we won’t have enough to pay the crew for Angel Assassin 2.”
James quietly walked across the room and stared outside at the busy maze of sound stages. He contemplated their options, realizing that he’d taken a big risk in taking the loan to pay his fines to the government. At the time it was his only option. Now they were paying the price.
“I’ll just have to pay the crew’s salaries with my own money,” he finally announced.
“That’s like putting a band aid on a shark bite,” Ethan cautioned him. “It might solve things for this month but what about next month and the month after? You can’t keep doing that forever, James. I wish you would let me help.”
James turned to him and shook his head adamantly. “No,” he said. “This isn’t your problem, Ethan.”
Sighing, he patted his uncle firmly on the shoulder and offered an apologetic expression. “I’m sorry about all of this,” he said. “Once Angel Assassin 2 is released we’ll be in good shape, but that isn’t for months from now.”
“We’ll be fine,” James insisted. “Don’t worry about it. Now why don’t you get out of here. Isn’t today the day you spend with Michael?”
Ethan nodded. “Yeah. I was going to call Brooke and tell her that I’ll have to make other arrangements.”
“Absolutely not,” James said. “You need to spend time with your son. I insist that you leave and go pick him up. It’s a beautiful day. Take him to the park or the zoo or the beach. Do something to get out of this stuffy office. Never take your children for granted, Ethan. Trust me.”
“Thanks James,” Ethan said and shook his hand.
After he’d left, James phoned Kenny to transfer funds from his personal account into the Sunset Studios account, then asked him to schedule a meeting with the lender for his loan. Maybe they could defer payments until the movie was released. It was a long shot, but probably the best bet for staying afloat. Unfortunately, they were already behind schedule on filming thanks to the writer’s strike. Luckily, they’d made some good progress during the past week.
That progress, however, was thrown out the window when Stormy entered in a hurry, his face taut and his expression one of panic.
“Dad, we’ve got problems,” he said.
James sighed. “What has she done this time?”
“No way in hell am I going to let you print that crap!” Alex screamed as she stood with Frank Dunning watching the dailies from footage shot the day before. “Look at that angle! I look like a cow!”
“If you’re about to suggest the camera adds ten pounds, then I say you should take a look at the empty bags of cookies lining your dressing room table,” Frank said with a scowl.
“How dare you!” Alex screeched and planted her hands on her hips. “I have never been in better shape in my life. My trainer just said so this morning.”
“Who’s your trainer? Little Debbie?”
“Why you dirty, no good—”
“What’s going on here?” James bellowed as he walked onto the set and eyed Alex with a look of warning. “I could hear you all the way outside. “
“James, look at this slipshod work,” Alex protested and pointed to the video monitor. “If you let this idiot continue on this way then Angel Assassin 2 is going to bomb before the teaser even hits the screens.”
“I told you,” Stormy singsonged under his breath as he fell in line behind his father.
James rubbed his hand over his face and offered Frank an apologetic smile. “Excuse us for a minute,” he said, taking Alex by the arm and leading her across the room to the craft services table.
“What?” she demanded and picked up a danish from the buffet. “James, did you see the way I looked in that shot? It was the most unattractive angle possible and he did it on purpose.”
“Alex, if you have a problem with Frank or the cinematographer or somebody else on set, from now on I want you to come to me personally. I don’t want to hear another outburst like that. Is that understood?”
She looked at him in awe, angered by the way he talked down to her. “I am not a child,” she seethed. “And I certainly don’t appreciate you treating me like one. You’re not here every day, James. You don’t see what I have to put up with on a daily basis with these buffoons.”
“Alex, you have not worked for a number of years,” he reminded her. “Don’t you think it’s possible that you might have something to learn from Frank and the rest of the crew?”
“No,” she said with an irritated frown.
James ran his fingers through his hair and tried to put things in perspective. He had to get this movie finished on time and under budget. There was a strong possibility that with any more of Alex’s tantrums, that wouldn’t happen. He had to put the kid gloves away and deal with her the only way she would respond to.
“Alex,” he began slowly. “Let me make this very clear to you. This is not the eighties anymore. You are not the coveted femme fatale in high demand. You have not had a critically accepted role for over six years. I want you to think of this role in this film as your comeback. Right now there are no guarantees that people even want you back on the screen. I suggest you use this opportunity to do some soul searching, some homing in on your craft, and some major ass kissing so that this isn’t the last film that you ever star in. Remember, Angie Dickinson hasn’t had a successful role since Body Double. Word has it she was a terror on set. I want you to think about that.”
Before she could react, he turned and walked back over to Frank. Glaring heatedly, Alex threw the Danish onto the buffet and picked up a donut instead. How on earth could her ex-husband—the father of her children—speak to her that way? She had never been more infuriated in her life.
Or more scared.
Stormy was content with the resolution to the day’s first hiccup, so he decided to get some paperwork done in his office. On his way off the crowded set, he caught a glimpse of someone familiar scouting around the studio exchanging friendly conversation with some crew members. After a closer look, he realized it was Kelly.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, glancing around to make sure no one saw them together. “Why aren’t you at work?”
“I’m working second shift today,” she said with a smile, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder and glancing around the elaborate set. “I’ve been meaning to come down and take a look around so I thought this was a perfect opportunity. You’re not mad, are you?”
Stormy looked over at his father to make sure he didn’t see them together, then fixed his eyes on his mother and quickly led Kelly off to the back of the sound stage.
“No, I’m not mad,” he said. “I just thought we’d decided we were going to keep things on the down low for a while longer. You know, until we were ready to go public.”
“I know. But there’s no harm in me coming down here just to look around is there? It’s not like we’re doing it in front of your whole crew.” She looked around in wonderment, thrilled to finally be in the center of the action. This is the Hollywood that she’d always dreamed about. “Wow, this place is amazing. Your mother looks so beautiful in that costume, too. God, I’d love to go to lunch with her sometime and talk about fashion and beauty tips and—”
“Kelly, you’re not making this very easy,” Stormy said, his voice urging her to keep the volume down. “You know I’d love to tell everyone about us, including my mother and father, but I just think that—”
“This place is so exciting,” she cut him off with a wicked smile and inched closer to him. “Seeing you here all professional being a studio exec is so hot. I want you.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Stormy flushed with excitement. “Stop,” he said, prying her away from him and willing himself not to get aroused. “Why don’t I just come by the hotel later?“
“I can’t wait,” she said, pawing at him like an animal. “Movie sets get me hot.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked, leading her back behind a prop wall positioned on wheels.
Once they were safely out of view, she kissed him passionately and ran her hand against his chest. “You know what I’d love?” she asked.
“What?” Stormy asked between hurried breaths.
“If you helped me get a part in the movie,” she said with a clever smile. “Anything would do. A walk-on role or a bit part. Something to show my mother that I’m not just going to wind up a maid for the rest of my life.”
“You’re talking to the right guy,” Stormy said, closing his eyes and throwing his head back as she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her tongue over his nipples.
“Oh God, you’re so powerful,” Kelly said with a giggle. “It’s like you can snap your fingers and make people do exactly what you want.”
“Well, not exactly what I want.”
“What do you want me to do?” she asked with a devilish grin and a wink.
Suddenly, they were both aware that they were being watched. Turning around, the realization that the prop wall had been wheeled away by two crew members, leaving them exposed for all to see. Stormy with his shirt unbuttoned and Kelly’s lipstick covering his face.
After leaving the studio, Ethan went home to change clothes, made a quick stop to pick up tickets for the circus, and arrived at Brooke’s townhouse shortly after lunch. He stood on the porch, his hands in his pockets and a frown on his face when Brooke opened the door.
“Hi,” she said with a smile. “Michael’s almost ready. Come inside.”
“I’ll wait out here,” Ethan said, tight-lipped. The less time he had to spend in the same room with Brooke was better for the both of them. Their breakup hadn’t been a civil one and he still had feelings of resentment for the way it happened. Never in his life had he met anyone as uncertain of their feelings as Brooke Taylor.
Brooke exhaled deeply. “Ethan, don’t be like that. Just come inside and wait.” She left the door open and began racing around the living room picking up things and putting them into a diaper bag.
He sighed and walked into the townhouse. Roz was in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee and Michael was busy crawling across the thick plush carpet in the living room.
“Hello Ethan, good to see you,” Roz called.
“You too, Roz,” he replied, bending down and lifting Michael into his arms. “Hey partner, ready to spend the day with your dad?”
Michael cooed and managed a few impressive da-da’s, laughing when Ethan bounced him lightly in his arms.
“I’m just going to run upstairs and grab his hat,” Brooke said, flitting up the staircase and down the hall to the nursery.
After she’d gone, Ethan turned to Roz and saw her staring at him out of the corner of her eye. “She seems kind of distracted today,” he said and motioned to the staircase. “Everything okay?”
Roz pushed her blond hair from her eyes and sipped her coffee. “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “She’s not very happy with me right now.”
Ethan knew of the strained relationship with Brooke and her mother, so Roz’s pronouncement didn’t come as a shock to him. He would have been happy to leave it be had it not been for her eagerness to explain.
“But then what does a mother know?” Roz continued. “I simply tried to offer my opinion and she snapped at me as usual. I just have her best interests at heart. It’s too soon for her to be seeing anyone.”
The news sent tingly sensations of jealousy and utter devastation racing through Ethan’s veins. Shifting Michael to his other arm, he looked at Roz with a sense of foreboding. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help but ask the question that lingered in his mind.
“Who is Brooke seeing?”
“I really shouldn’t say anything,” Roz insisted, got up from her stool and went to the counter to pour herself a refresh of coffee. “It isn’t any of my business, at least according to my daughter.”
“Who?” Ethan demanded.
“David Jennings,” Roz said, deliberately studying his reaction while stirring a cube of sugar into her coffee.
The stirring of jealousy and devastation grew as Ethan clenched his jaw and stalked across the room. He picked up the diaper bag from the floor and started to the front door just as Brooke came racing down the stairs.
“Found it,” she said, winded from the jaunt through the house. She handed the hat to Ethan and kissed Michael on the cheek. “You can bring him back anytime tonight. Mom will be here but I have plans so I won’t be around.”
“Plans?” Ethan asked and snatched the hat from her. “Right, I wouldn’t want your son to inconvenience your plans, Brooke.”
He started out the door and Brooke frowned, pulling him back. “What does that supposed to mean?”
He shook his head, deciding not to get into it now. As hurt as he felt, he knew he’d wind up saying something he would regret. The fact that Brooke swore up and down that she had no interest in David Jennings when they were dating had been the only saving grace in their breakup. Now, just three months later, she was going out with him that very night. He couldn’t remember ever being so hurt in his life.
“Forget it,” he said, turning and storming down the sidewalk to his car.
Brooke threw her hands up in resignation and turned to her mother. “Did you say something to upset him?”
Roz shrugged and sipped her coffee innocently from the kitchen.
Moonshadows was a brand new beach resort situated on the coast between Santa Monica and Long Beach. Boasting spectacular views of the ocean, a sprawling hotel, and individual cabins lining the beach, it was set to be the premiere property in David Jennings’s portfolio. His father would be proud, David decided. He’d managed to turn an impressive collection of world class hotels started by Royce Jennings into the biggest hotel franchise next to the Hiltons.
On top of that success, he’d also finally convinced Brooke Taylor to accompany him out for an evening. So far their relationship had been a series of coincidences, namely his running into her at the Galleria where she worked several years before. That, coupled with her uncanny resemblance to a childhood acquaintance, had set a rather unusual precedent to the attraction they shared.
“This is not a date,” Brooke had insisted when he picked her up and drove her to the hotel. “I’m only going because you’re so persistent and I haven’t been out for months.”
“I can live with that,” said David as he led her into the ballroom at Moonshadows where a crowd of elegantly dressed guests were gathered. Immediately, they were besieged by the press, clamoring for quotes from David on his bold new venture.
Brooke suddenly felt awkward. Pictures from the media meant she and David would be seen together in every print magazine and online tabloid in existence, not to mention every news station in town. She wasn’t prepared for that. Especially not with the way she’d ended things with Ethan. When he saw the photos he would be devastated. No matter what she did to protest, it would be clear to everyone that she and David were on a date.
“Mr. Jennings, how long have you and Brooke Taylor been seeing each other?” asked a gossip columnist from Image magazine.
David gave Brooke an apologetic look. He should have known that their showing up together would take center stage over the opening of the hotel. Leave it to the Hollywood press to make one thing more of a story than the other.
“I don’t understand you sometimes, son,” James said to Stormy as he looked down on him in his bedroom at the Blackthorne mansion. “You have everything going for you right now. You’re my right-hand man at Sunset Studios, you’ve abandoned your days as the premiere playboy of Hollywood—or so I thought—and you’ve shown some major signs of maturity over the past few months. Why would you want to mess that up by screwing around with Kelly?”
“We’re not just screwing around, Dad,” Stormy insisted, seated on the end of his bed. “I really like her. This isn’t like the other times.”
“Where have I heard that before?” James asked with a skeptical sigh.
“I’m serious. Kelly and I have been seeing each other for months. I haven’t been this serious about anyone since Heather.”
“Kelly is Leilani’s daughter,” James interrupted. “No good can come of this.”
Stormy shook his head with frustration and stalked across the room. “Why? Because she’s the help?” he asked bitterly. “Come on, Dad, this isn’t Buckingham Palace and we’re not the royal family.”
“No, that’s not why. Leilani is like a member of this family. She’s been with us for seventeen years. She practically raised you and your sister. How do you think she’ll feel when you break her daughter’s heart? I’ll give you a hint. She’ll be devastated. She’ll probably leave us, and what will we do then?”
“Why do you assume I’m going to break her heart?” Stormy demanded crossly. “Why can’t you believe that there’s something real between us and that I genuinely care for her?”
“Because I know you, son,” James replied. “You felt this same way about Heather and look what happened. You got married and less than a year later you were cheating on her.”
“It’s nice that my father has so much faith in me,” Stormy said with a pout. “You know, Dad, I had hoped that when we finally told you about us that you would be supportive, and you would want the best for me. Now I see that was just a fantasy. To you I’ll always be the screw up who can’t commit to anything.”
“Prove me wrong then,” James said. “Do one thing that proves you can commit and maybe I’ll sing a different tune.”
“I told you. I care about Kelly. I think I’m falling for her. Why can’t you give me the benefit of the doubt instead of assuming that I’m going to screw it up?”
James ran his fingers through his hair and paced back and forth through the room. “I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but—”
“Then do it,” Stormy said.
James stopped and looked at him, praying that his son wasn’t about to embark on another one of his short-term affairs that always ended in trouble for everyone.
“I thought I raised you right, Kelly,” Leilani said as she stood in her bedroom at the end of the hall. “I thought I’d taught you right from wrong, but now you do this?”
“You didn’t raise me, remember?” Kelly spat hatefully. “Nana raised me while you came to the mainland and worked for a rich family for seventeen years.”
“I’m still your mother,” Leliani said sternly.
“And you have no room to talk,” Kelly said, standing up and approaching her defiantly. “You threw yourself at the first man you met. An American soldier in a bar in Honolulu when you were my age. And look how that turned out? Where is he now?”
“Kelly!” Leilani gasped in astonishment. “Your father is not the issue here.”
“Isn’t he?” Kelly asked, her eyes stinging with tears. “Why do you assume that I’m going to make the same mistakes that you did? At least I know Stormy isn’t going anywhere. What’s the harm in seeing where this thing goes? If you would just forget about my engagement to Ke Liu for one second, you’d realize that maybe I might be happy with someone else. I wasn’t happy with Ke, mama. I am happy with Stormy.”
“But for how long?” Leilani asked in despair. “You jump around from thing to thing. You were in college for a year then you dropped out, you got engaged to Ke but you broke it off, you’ve had ten jobs in the last year…”
“Thank you very much for listing all my shortcomings, mama,” Kelly said and plopped down onto the bench at her vanity where she began to brush her long black hair. “It’s so refreshing to have a mother who has so much faith in me.”
“I do,” Leilani insisted. “I just want you to make the right choices. It’s time that you grow up and become a woman.”
“I am a woman,” she said, turning and looking at her mother. “And I wish that you would let me make my own decisions. I want to be with Stormy and if you can’t see that then that’s your problem, not mine.”
Brett finished brushing his teeth, wiped his mouth on a towel, and turned off the bathroom light before adjourning to the bedroom. Running his hands over his bare chest, he started to the bed where Heather was already neatly tucked him, her back toward him.
“You tired, Babe?” he asked, yawning as he got into bed, pulling the covers over his legs.
Silence followed. Heather stared at the wall, a tear forming in her eye as she thought about the events of the past few days. She had lied more than she’d ever lied in her life. First to Dr. Mitchell, then to her own husband. She knew that he deserved to know the truth. It wasn’t right that she kept the truth about their baby from him. It was time that she came clean, for her sake as well as Brett’s.
“Babe?” Brett asked and leaned over to her. “You asleep?”
“Dr. Mitchell says it’s not a hundred percent certain, but there’s a possibility that our baby might not be developmentally challenged,” she said, deciding there was no better way than just to say it. She did so without looking at him, terrified of seeing the look in his eyes.
Brett froze, struggling to process what she was saying to him. He stared at the wall straight ahead, numb for a minute while he continued to listen.
“I contracted toxoplasmosis before I got pregnant. I didn’t know about it until my second trimester, but by then it had affected the fetus. The blood vessels become clogged and it slows the oxygen flow to the baby’s brain, sometimes causing problems.”
Uncertain whether he should be angry or scared or hurt, Brett continued staring across the room in a daze. His dreams of having a healthy and happy baby were now uncertain.
“She said it might be a few weeks after the baby is born before we detect any abnormalities, and there are tests they can do. There’s a chance the baby will be fine, but—” She paused, turning and facing him finally. “Brett, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I was just so scared about what it would do to you. All I wanted to do was give you a baby. I know how much it meant to you.”
He put his arm around her, stoically silent as she cried into his shoulder. Still numb, he kissed the top of her head and tried to be as strong as he could. The fact that their baby may have challenges was frightening, but the most important thing to him was that it was born physically healthy. He could live with anything else.
Or could he?
The next morning, Miranda stormed through the lobby at Hotel Terranova, pausing and rolling her eyes when Eddie approached from the restaurant.
“What are you doing here?” she asked and stalked into her office.
“I thought you might need a shoulder to cry on again,” he said, cocking his head and looking at her sympathetically.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, leafing through her mail and pushing her dark hair over her shoulder. “I have a lot to do today, so if this is about the other night after we left the Viper Room…”
“It was hot, huh?” Eddie said with a wink and sat down across from her desk.
She rolled her eyes again. “I meant what I said. If you tell anyone what happened that night at your condo, I swear to god you’ll regret the day you ever met me.”
“I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone and I won’t,” he said, holding his hands up in protest. “I haven’t.”
“Good,” she said. “Keep it that way.”
“You were in a bad place and you needed a man to make it all better,” Eddie continued with a sly grin. “I was happy to do my part.”
Irritated, Miranda sat down and picked up the morning edition of the Los Angeles Times. “It was a moment of weakness,” she said, then added with a hateful tinge to her voice, “and I was drunk.”
“Fine,” he said with a shrug. “Then don’t come crying to me again when you see whose picture is on the society page.”
Growing more irritated by the minute, Miranda flipped through the paper and stopped when she got to the first page of the society section. Her eyes narrowed on a picture of David and Brooke, arm in arm at the opening of Moonshadows.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, wincing. “I know it’s a blow, but I thought you should see it before—”
“Get out,” Miranda said softly.
The cocky expression from his face faded and he suddenly saw something in Miranda that he’d never seen before in the years that he’d known her. Hidden behind the rough exterior and the smart mouth was a hurt little girl with glassy eyes and a big heart. Before he knew it, he felt like a heel for taunting her with the news about David and Brooke. Now he wanted to reach out to her.
“Miranda, I’m sorry.”
“I said get out, Eddie.”
Realizing she was in no mood, Eddie stood up and walked to the door. He paused before leaving, glancing back and looking at the look of devastation on her face.
Benji picked Heather up at the condo and helped her into his car parked outside on the street. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, texting Blake a quick message before climbing inside and starting the engine.
“Thanks for taking me to my appointment, Benji,” she said, still forlorned over her admission to Brett the night before. He’d been devastated, naturally, but uncharacteristically quiet. It was to be expected, she decided. She’d had months to come to terms with the possible mental disability their baby may have, whereas Brett was just beginning to absorb the news. He was angry, hurt, and confused. The fact that she hid it from him for so many months only compounded the issue. He didn’t have to say it because she saw it in his eyes while he laid awake for most of the night. She expected that he’d be vocal about their lack of communication once it finally set in.
“I still don’t understand why you’re going to this shrink,” Benji said, peeling away from the curb and heading across town. “Shrinks are bad news. You and I know that better than anybody. Just ask—”
“Going to see Dr. Anderson has been the best decision I’ve ever made,” Heather proclaimed and sat with her purse in her lap. She looked over and saw that her brother was barely paying attention to her, too busy sending text messages while he maneuvered through the busy morning traffic. “Would you put that down for a minute and pay attention to what you’re doing?”
“Jesus, you sound just like Dad,” Benji complained. He looked at his watch and groaned. “I’m meeting Blake at nine so I’ll have to come back and pick you up after your appointment.”
“Is he getting out of the hospital today?”
“Yeah,” Benji replied.
“I still can’t believe you shot him with Dad’s gun,” Heather said, staring absently out the window. Her mind wasn’t really on Blake or her brother or the gun. All she could think about was Brett and their baby. She felt so uncertain about things. Maybe if he’d yelled and screamed at her for keeping the truth for so long she would feel better. At least then she’d know what he was thinking. As of now she had no idea.
A sudden stop sent her lunging forward against the seatbelt and Heather shrieked with a start. “Watch out!”
“Sorry,” Benji said, looking up from his phone and realizing they’d come mere inches from rear-ending a car in front of them. He honked his horn, impatiently trying to get around the convergence of traffic that had built up at a stoplight.
“You know, you could give Dad a break once and a while,” Heather continued after she’d recovered from the shock of the near collision. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s got a lot going on.”
“And who am I to get in the way of things, right?” Benji asked with irritation. “So I screwed up, big deal. In case you’re forgetting, I’m on probation for two years. What about what I’m going through?”
An alert on his cell phone informed him of another incoming text message and Benji quickly flipped it open. He steered with one hand while punching in letters with the other.
“Benji, look out!” Heather cried and braced herself with a hand against the dashboard.
By the time he looked up it was too late. He slammed on his breaks to avoid hitting another car from behind. The tires squealed, spun beneath the hot asphalt, and propelled the car into a 180. They slammed into the side of a delivery truck parked along the street. The drivers’s side door crushed inward and Benji’s head slammed against the window. The force of the impact jarred Heather into the door with a bone crunching blow.
After a few moments of stillness, the airbags deployed. Heather jarred herself awake with a jolt, suddenly feeling pains coming from her abdomen.
“Oh god,” she cried, out of breath. “I think something’s wrong.”
Benji stirred awake and glanced over to her with a look on panic on his face. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face.
“Benji! Something’s wrong! I think it’s the baby!”
Next time….
In a special episode written by a guest author, Brett struggles with the news about he and Heather’s baby. Brooke makes plans to go back to work. Alex causes more problems on the set. Jordan has harsh words for Benji.
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