Not a Fairy Tale: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (20 page)

“I’m sure they’ve contracted someone else for the job already.”

“They haven’t. I asked.”

A deep furrow appeared in Dom’s brow. “I don’t want to work on it. Just drop it.”

She held her back straight and her chin high, but the tears were back, pushing against her eyelids. What had just happened here?

Did Dom not want to work with her? Was he that eager to end this arrangement and move on?

She needed to get out of here, needed to get alone, somewhere she could breathe again. Was it too soon to suggest they leave the party?

Her muscles had begun to seize up again after the morning’s ordeal. And her heart was beginning to seize up too.

Torn with indecision, she smiled and watched the dancers on the dance floor, grateful for the diversion when one of the chief fundraisers stopped beside her chair.

“It’s such a pleasure to see you again,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek.

“Hi, Tony.” She smiled up at him, waving him to the empty seat beside her.

“Tony used to work with my mom,” she explained to Dom.

The older man wrinkled his nose. “Back in the good old days before I got stuck behind a desk begging people for money.”

She laughed. “But you’re so good at it.”

“
You
make me look good.”

“Oh?” Dom asked, leaning forward.

“Nina is one of our most generous benefactors. She has single-handedly paid for the rebuilding of more storm-damaged houses than anyone else I know.”

“Those were supposed to be anonymous donations,” she chided. “Which reminds me, I’d better cut you a check now or everyone will think I’m just here for the free food.”

Tony laughed. “It’s hardly free. It’s hugely over-priced, and I’d far prefer a burger from In-N-Out. But I won’t complain since more than half the extravagant fee everyone’s paid to be here tonight goes to a good cause.” He patted her knee in a fatherly gesture. “You’re looking radiant tonight.”

“I don’t feel radiant. To be honest, I haven’t been feeling well. I’ve been feeling nauseous and tired lately.”

Dom’s hand squeezed hers painfully tight and she frowned at him before turning back to Tony. “It’s probably just stress. I’m waiting for news about a big role.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Well, I need to get back to schmoozing money out of all these rich people. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He kissed her cheek in farewell and when he’d gone, weaving away through the crowd, Nina turned to Dom. “Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“You don’t know?” he asked. His eyes were sharp, no longer preoccupied.

“Know what?”

“We need to talk.”

She nodded. “But not here. It’s too public.”

The urge to throw up was back again. Was this it: the moment when he said it was over between them?

“I need the toilet before we leave,” she said, rising unsteadily from her chair. “Could you please arrange the car? I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

The ladies’ room was too full of chattering women touching up their make-up for her to find the moment’s peace she needed there. At least the wave of nausea passed. She couldn’t be sick with so many witnesses. Her reflection in the mirror appeared more calm and composed than she felt, if a little pale. No one would guess the turmoil churning beneath the surface.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Wendy elbowed her way to Nina’s side. “I’ve been hoping to get a moment alone with you.”

They were hardly alone, but Nina nodded for her to continue.

“I got that information you wanted. A whole file of printouts I’ll bring to you tomorrow. Quick version is that an arthroplasty is basically hip replacement surgery, usually to repair a tear in the hip cartilage. Is your Gran okay?”

Nina’s chest pulled even tighter. “Gran’s fine,” she managed. “Thanks for finding out.”

Dom had injured his hip in Paris. The pain pills and steroid injections.

“Dom and I are leaving now. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

“Having an early night?” Wendy winked and grinned at her. “I wonder if the dishy doctor would also like an ‘early night’?”

Nina attempted a laugh and turned away. The spacious ladies’ room suddenly seemed stifling and airless, and way too full of people.

She paused in the hall outside.

Now she understood why he didn’t want to work on
Revelations
.

The arthroplasty had been scheduled for weeks ago and he’d put it off. For her? Maybe not for her, since he’d barely known her when he’d agreed to train her.

Hip replacement surgery couldn’t be good for a stunt man. It was as good as a career- killer, wasn’t it?

But the pain wasn’t good, either. All those times she’d caught his grimace as he moved, the times his smile had seemed over-bright and too casual.

He should have told her. He should have been honest with her.

But he hadn’t. Even when she’d given him the perfect opening not twenty minutes ago.

So much for that vision of a rosy future for the two of them together. It had never been an option, had it? Because if she’d meant anything to him at all, he would have told her.

He wouldn’t have lied.

He wouldn’t have cut her out.

She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. Once again, she’d been a fool. And she thought Jess was the hopeless romantic?

How many times did she have to go through this? Making friends, dating guys, only to find out that none of it had been real, that they were only using her.

As it had been with Paul de Angelo, and the boyfriend before him, and pretty much every other person she’d known since she’d left hurricane-wrecked Louisiana and started a new life as a new person in Iowa.

People thought the pretty girls, the popular girls, had it all. They had no idea.

That plump girl with glasses and braces and her nose forever stuck in a book might have been happier than Nina Alexander, Oscar nominee and
Vogue
cover girl.

She rubbed her eyes and didn’t give a damn if it turned her into a panda. If only she could undo these last ten years. Go back to the way things were when Dad was still alive, when they’d still been a family. When she’d known what was what and who was who.

But it was too late. The past could not be undone. She’d made her choices and she would stick with them.

Mechanically, she pushed herself away from the wall and began to walk. Down the hall, across the ballroom. People stopped her to say a few words here or there, but no one looked at her strangely, so hopefully her panda look wasn’t too bad.

Without Dom’s hand at her waist the walk was an ordeal. This was how it had been that night after the Academy Awards, before she’d had Dom’s steadying presence at her side.

She lifted her chin and smiled for all she was worth. She was strong. She’d survived a hurricane and its aftermath, losing her home, and the break-up of her family. She could survive one stupid walk across a ballroom without losing it.

“Nina!” She turned to the raised voice, the British accent drawing her attention.

“Hello, Tarquin. I didn’t realize you were here tonight.”

“Yeah, I just arrived. I was in a casting meeting until late, then I wanted to be the one to make the call offering the role of Sonia, so I missed half the party.”

No. Not now. She couldn’t take this now. Dealing with Dom’s rejection was hard enough. Two at once was unbearable.

Her smile slipped.

“No! I said that all wrong. I meant I wanted to phone
your
agent personally. We’ve offered you the role. Hadn’t you heard?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t bring my phone with me tonight.” Then she blinked. “I got the role? I’m Sonia?”

Tarquin swung an arm around her shoulder. “I’ve already made some notes I’d like to discuss with you. Let’s meet as soon as your contract’s signed. My assistant will call your assistant.”

“Of course.” She nodded numbly. She had the role. The one that would take her career to a whole new level. No more rom-com princesses. No more fairy tales. She could show the world, and her family, that she was better than that.

She should have felt joy. Instead she only felt relief.

At least she would have something to keep her busy and occupy her thoughts as she got over Dom.

Because tonight it would end. If he didn’t do it, she would. She had to.

A tear leaked out of her eye before she could blink it back. Great. Now she probably had mascara tracks to add to the panda eyes. “Thank you.”

“Please don’t cry,” he begged, patting her arm awkwardly.

She managed a wan smile. “I’m sorry. I have to go. Dom’s waiting for me. I’ll see you soon.”

“Sure.” Tarquin grinned. “And don’t forget to thank him too. Dom’s opinion carries a lot of weight in this town. He’s the reason the producers finally agreed to take the chance on you.”

They didn’t speak the entire drive home. Nina stared fixedly at the silhouette of the driver’s head through the dark glass, and after a while Dom quit trying to snag her attention and stared out the window.

He’d been an ass. He hadn’t handled this well. He’d been angry and scared and he’d shut her out, and now her walls had gone up again.

The drive took an excruciatingly long time. At last they turned into the street behind Dom’s house. He gave her a hand to help her out the car, waved off the driver, then held the yard gate open for her.

The house was dark and unwelcoming. He’d forgotten to leave a single light on. Sandy waited at the door for them, eager to get out, tail wagging furiously. Nina knelt down to pet her, then Dom let the dog out into the yard, and Nina moved to sit on the sofa, her hands folded primly in her lap, seemingly unaware of the dog hairs now clinging to her voluminous skirt.

“You wanted to talk?” she said.

Now that the moment was here, he had no idea what to say. It had seemed so easy when he’d been angry and the words had buzzed around inside his head like a swarm of bees.

But how could he demand “am I the father?” when she clearly had no idea she was pregnant? At this rate, the story would be halfway around town and in every gossip column imaginable before she woke up to the blindingly obvious.

While he’d already progressed to imagining himself pushing a girl with ponytails the same color as Nina’s on a swing, she hadn’t even contemplated the possibility.

Or refused to acknowledge it.

He sat down on the coffee table across from her and reached for her hands. She pulled them away. He frowned.

“When last did you have your period?” he asked.

Her mouth opened and closed again, like a goldfish. “What does that have to do with anything?” she asked at last.

“Just answer me.”

Looking confused, she closed her eyes and counted. Days. Weeks. Months. She frowned as she opened her eyes again. “I’m late, but that’s not surprising considering the heavy exercise I’ve been doing lately.”

He didn’t say anything, just let the silence stretch as she filled in the blanks.

Nina shook her head again. “I’m not pregnant. I took the morning-after pill.”

“And you were always careful with Paul?”

Indignation flashed in her dark eyes, turning them coal black. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Paul and I weren’t exactly… I mean, we had sex, but we weren’t particularly…active.” Her cheeks flushed a dark red. “We were always careful. And I did a test. After we had that condom fail. It was negative.” She sounded smug at that last bit and his stomach clenched.

The image of the little girl shattered like a pane of breakaway glass in a stunt. On the plus side, if she wasn’t pregnant with his child, then at least she wasn’t pregnant with Paul’s child either.

“And you did a second test in case the first was faulty?”

Chagrin replaced the indignation. “I’ll gladly do it now. I still have the spares Wendy bought.”

He raised an eyebrow and nodded towards the bathroom.

“
That
is what this is all about?” Her brow cleared. “You’ve been on edge all night because of my stupid period?”

She didn’t have to sound relieved. Pregnancy was a pretty major, life-changing event. “I needed to know.”

“You’re not breaking up with me?” There was a catch in her voice. She still didn’t sound or look any happier.

He swallowed. That was the other talk they needed to have. But before they could talk about his feelings, or where this relationship was headed, first they needed to get rid of the elephant in the room. He shook his head. “I’m not breaking up with you.”

He followed her to the bathroom, watched as she dug a brown-paper bag out of a big cosmetic bag. Watched as she did the test. Watched as a pink line appeared.

“See!” She held the stick out to him, triumphant. “Only one line.”

And he watched the horror grow in her face as another pink line appeared beside it. A very clear, very definite, second pink line.

Even he knew what that meant.

Nina threw the stick down. “It must be faulty.” She ripped open the packaging of the last box, her fingers shaking so much he had to remove the stick from the packaging for her.

She did the test again. Not two pink lines this time. Just a smiley face in the little window.

Nina dropped down to sit on the edge of the bath. “I can’t be pregnant. I
can’t
be.” She sank her head into her hands. “This isn’t happening.”

He sat beside her, rubbing gentle circles on her back. He understood the shock she was experiencing right now. He’d gone through the same thing earlier in the evening.

“It’ll take time to adjust, but we can make this work,” he said, at last, into the silence.

With her head still in her hands, she said, “This was just supposed to be a bit of fun. It was supposed to be ‘no strings’.” She hiccupped. “I don’t want to stop acting. I love my job. And I love being famous. I love the doors it opens for me, the access it gives me to experiences I would never have otherwise. And I like being admired, and I don’t care if that’s selfish.”

“You wouldn’t have to give up your career.” He could give his up instead. It wasn’t like he had a choice, anyway.

Nina finally looked up. “Tarquin offered me the role of Sonia as we were leaving tonight.”

Oh.

His hand stilled on her back. That was different.

She could hardly take on such a physically active role while suffering through morning sickness. Fit and determined as she was, and even if she didn’t start showing until principal photography was over, there was still the promotional campaign that would follow, and the sequels to be shot. Those would be almost impossible with a newborn baby in tow.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know how much you wanted the role.”

Her eyes blazed. “I didn’t go through everything these last few weeks to throw it all away at the last moment. This role means too much to me.”

He frowned, confused. “And what about the baby?”

She didn’t say anything. The angry, irrational fire in her eyes frightened him. He’d never seen Nina like this before. It had to be the pregnancy hormones turning her so unreasonable. Not that he’d say it out loud. He’d learned that one the hard way when Moira was pregnant with Eric.

The little bathroom was so still he could hear the crash of breakers in the background.

“I don’t want a baby.” Her words were soft, but they fell into the silence like a jackhammer on concrete. She cleared her throat. “You’ve seen what my life is like. It doesn’t belong to me anymore. My fame has taken on a life of its own. Can you imagine a child growing up with that? The constant scrutiny. Never being able to go out as a family and do family stuff without strangers interrupting and pushing their way into our family circle. People treating him or her as if they’re somehow less special than me because I’m the famous one. It wouldn’t be healthy and it wouldn’t be fair, and there’s only so much I can do to protect my child from that.”

“You wouldn’t have to do it alone. I’d be there.
I’d
protect our child. Together we can make this work.”

She shook her head. “Everywhere I go, I’m a walking target and everyone wants something from me. I get peopled out. When I come home, I want to be alone. I need to be alone. No visitors dropping by unannounced, and certainly no baby demanding what little is left of me.”

He reeled back as if she’d slapped him. Who was this woman sitting next to him? Because the Nina he’d fallen in love with wasn’t this selfish and uncaring. “And what about me? Is there any place for me in this life of yours?”

Slowly she shook her head.

He stared at her, unable to breathe. Then he paced away to the bathroom door and turned, leaning back against it, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re willing to give up everything to make a few movies? To win a few awards? Is that the only thing you care about: to be patted on the back at the world’s most self-congratulatory spectacle by a self-obsessed, self-centered industry?”

She lifted her chin. “You’ve made a pretty damn good living out of this business, too.”

“Yeah, but I can still see it for what it is. Making movies is a great job, but it’s still just a job, not a religion. There’s no point doing it if you don’t have a life outside of work. People who love you. Hollywood is just a town full of tourists, not a dream.”

He swallowed as his words echoed off the walls. Making movies had been as good as a religion to him, too. But all it had taken to show him the light were two little pink lines.

He didn’t need to throw himself off of buildings to be happy. There were more important things in life. Home. Friends. Family.

The irrational fire still blazed in Nina’s eyes. “You can mock all you like, but this
is
my dream. This is as close to the fairy tale that a twenty-first-century girl from Nowheresville can get. I don’t care that it’s not noble or heroic. I
like
being a Somebody.”

“Then when Paul de Angelo handed you the glass slipper, why didn’t you take it? You could be living the life of the princess in the castle right now. You didn’t take it because you’re not that person, Nina. You’re not shallow and selfish.” He hoped. In fact, he was staking his own future happiness on it. “Forget Sonia. Take a chance on me and the baby. Let’s try to make a go of being a family.”

“I am that selfish,” she whispered. “You might be willing to give up everything to raise a child, but I’m not.” She rose from the edge of the bath, pulling herself up to her full height. In the ridiculously high heels she still wore, that height made her imposing. “And you’re only offering these things because your own movie career is over.”

He uncrossed his arms. “What did you say?”

“You were supposed to have surgery weeks ago.”

How the hell did she know about that? Which one of his sisters blabbed? He was going to kill them.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were injured? You shouldn’t even have taken on my training, should you?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Why should I give up everything I’ve worked for this last decade for you? You haven’t even been honest with me. You’re no better than Paul was. It’s all about what
you
want.” She swallowed visibly, and her eyes shone with tears. “How can I even trust you?”

He didn’t have any answers for her. If he was a woman, he wouldn’t trust himself, either. He’d been a player all his life. But with Nina he felt like a better man. She made him want to be a better man.

Especially now when he could see that the selfishness was only a shield against hurt.

“I’m not Paul and I’m not your mother,” he said, laying a hand on her arm. “I won’t leave you when the going gets tough.”

She shrugged away from his touch, crossing her arms protectively across her chest. “It doesn’t matter. The only person I can rely on is me.” She faced him, lifting her chin. “We said we’d end this when it got awkward or stopped being fun. It just became both. In case that wasn’t clear enough:
I
am breaking up with
you
. You and I are over.”

The sparks were no longer in her eyes. She was calm now. Too calm. He’d lost her.

“What about the baby?”

She blinked. He had a suspicion she was trying very hard
not
to think about the baby.

“I’ll take care of it.”

He flinched. He hoped she didn’t mean what he thought that meant.

But he couldn’t reason with her now. Not in the state she was in, and not without making this worse between them. He could only pray that when she’d had a chance to calm down, to absorb this news, she’d see reason.

“My offer is still on the table if you change your mind.”

He let himself out the back door, whistling for Sandy. All he wanted right now was a run on the beach, to clear his thoughts and ease his frustrations. But even if he hadn’t still been dressed in his penguin suit, he wouldn’t have been able to run.

He may not have been convinced he needed surgery a month ago, but now he was. His hip locked up more than ever these days, and even medication was no longer able to keep the pain at bay. At a slow walk he headed along the familiar path toward the pub, Sandy bounding along beside him.

Whiskey wasn’t going to fix either the pain in his hip or the pain in the region of his chest. But it would help numb it.

By the time he staggered home several hours later, Nina was gone. There wasn’t even as much as an empty shampoo bottle left to show she had ever been there.