with Rory and Carson had been awkward would be the understatement of my life. The air was practically crackling with waves of hatred coming from my little brother. Before we’d left Lucie’s flat, I’d taken him aside and we’d had a long chat about how he needed to act, how he needed to go along with it for me so I could continue to work on Carson in my own terms and make him see this was not a good idea. I had every faith that my constant whining, Gloria’s input, and the media attention would eventually wear him down and he would stop this ridiculous façade.
The media had again been waiting outside Lucie’s flat for us to come out. As I’d carried my daughter from the building, Carson’s arm was securely around my waist as he repeated his earlier words about them not being able to print a picture of Sasha or Rory because of the blanket order. Thankfully, as they were shouting their questions at us, Rory had kept his promise and kept his lips sealed.
Carson had been quiet the whole trip and kept sneaking glances at Sasha using his mirror. A little smile had twitched at the corner of his mouth the entire time. By the time we turned onto Carson’s road, my head was aching from stress. The drive to his place had seemed to take forever as Rory sat there in the back, grumbling about not being able to walk to school or pop around to his friend’s now that we lived in a different part of London.
“Jesus, how much money do you actually have?” Rory muttered as we pulled into the driveway of Carson’s impressive house.
I rolled my eyes and, once in the garage, pushed myself out of the monster-like truck, jumping down because the seats were so high. As I pulled Sasha’s door open, Carson had already run around the car and was standing close behind me, watching our every move as I plucked her from her car seat.
“Need a hand?” he offered.
I shook my head. “I’ve been managing perfectly fine for the last two years, thank you.” I didn’t mean it to sound as nasty as it came out; after all, it wasn’t his fault he wasn’t around and I’d been on my own.
Rory tossed a holdall bag full of clothes in Carson’s direction. “Here, you can help me instead.”
Carson’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything in return as he waved his hand toward the interior door of the garage. I headed in that direction, watching as he typed in a passcode to get the door to open.
“You looking forward to seeing your new bedroom, Sasha?” Carson asked, smiling down at her.
She didn’t answer, just turned her face into my neck. Sasha had been quiet for the last hour. She always could be a little shy around strangers. Like me, it took her a little time to fully trust someone, but once she did trust, she let them see every part of her. Carson just needed to keep working on her and she’d let him be part of her inner circle. He looked extremely disheartened by her not answering him, but he covered it with a sad smile.
“All right, Sash?” I whispered, kissing the side of her head. She nodded, gripping her hands into my hair and twisting it around her fist absentmindedly as she kept one eye on Carson. “Daddy bought you a beautiful new chair made out of teddy bears, want to go see?” I asked, trying to help him out a little because the sad look on Carson’s face actually hurt me, too. She nodded against my neck, so I smiled over at Carson. “Maybe Daddy will show us the way?” I offered.
Carson’s tense shoulders seemed to loosen as I included him. He smiled gratefully at me and placed his hand on the small of my back as we walked up the stairs to the house. “I can definitely do that,” he said quietly.
Rory made a strangled choking sound as he stepped into the hallway behind us. “Damn. Big,” he muttered, looking around with wide eyes.
Carson smiled over at him. “Go look around. My house is your house,” he stated, waving his hand in invitation. “TV room is in there. Your bedroom is on the first floor, first door on the right.”
Rory nodded, dropping his bag carelessly as he walked in the direction of the TV room. “You know, Emma, maybe this might work out after all. Live with him for a couple of years, then divorce his arse and take half of everything,” he suggested, his voice serious, as if I should actually consider it.
I frowned at my brother for the mere suggestion. “I’m sure there will be a strict pre-nup agreement. Celebrities usually insist on those, especially if they’re marrying someone like me,” I muttered.
“I don’t want a pre-nup,” Carson chimed in, sliding his hand from the small of my back to my hip instead as he stepped closer to my side. “If you two girls want it, then take it. I don’t care.” He shrugged, looking down at Sasha.
I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth. “How many times have I told you I’m not interested in your money?” I snapped.
He smiled warmly. “Plenty. And that’s one reason why I don’t need one.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Sasha tugged on my hair to get my attention. “Teddy chair,” she whined in my ear, obviously impatient to get to her room.
Nodding, I looked at Carson. “Your little girl wants to see her room. Let’s save this conversation for another time, huh?”
After following him up the stairs and into Sasha’s bedroom, I immediately stalked over to the chair and sat down in it, settling Sasha on my lap. She didn’t let go of me straight away as she looked around with wide eyes. “What do you think? See how cute this chair is? Mummy wants one of these for her room,” I said, touching one of the bear’s noses as I smiled. It was gorgeously designed.
“I’ll get you one,” Carson stated, walking into the room and watching me with a smile on his face.
I rolled my eyes. “It was just a turn of phrase. You don’t need to buy everything I mention a fancy for, you know.”
Ignoring my dig, he walked over to the tall, white-wood wardrobe and pulled open the door. On one side, there were two full racks of clothes in every single colour; on the other, shelves and shelves of teddy bears, dolls and toys. Sasha’s little body jerked as she looked at the array of things inside.
“These are all yours,” Carson stated, picking up a stuffed monkey from the top shelf and doing a monkey-type chatter impression.
Sasha giggled and looked up at me uncertainly. I smiled reassuringly and nodded. “They’re all yours, Sash. Daddy bought them all for you. Go check them out,” I instructed, helping her off my lap as she squirmed to get down.
She walked hesitantly over to Carson and took the offered monkey from his hand. “Sasha’s?” she asked. When Carson nodded, she brought the monkey to her face and kissed its nose before smiling up at her dad. I didn’t need to see inside his chest to know his heart melted at her smile – it was clear on his face.
Sasha immediately turned on her heel and marched over to me. “Mummy, up!” she ordered, taking my hand and tugging. “M’key chair!” she announced, setting the stuffed monkey in the space I’d just vacated.
I chuckled and sat on the floor instead, watching as she methodically made her way back and forth from the wardrobe, plucking out the toys one by one. She looked up at Carson each time as she asked, “Sasha’s?” checking they were really hers before she marched over to the chair and arranged them all in one big pile.
By the time she was finished inspecting every inch of her room, the place looked like a bomb had exploded inside it. Carson was grinning from ear to ear, probably because Sasha had already been won over by his gifts and was now accepting of him and no longer shy. When my tummy rumbled, I looked at my watch to see it was after five.
“Do you mind if I make some dinner?” I asked nervously.
Carson frowned. “You don’t need to ask my permission for stuff like that. This is your home now, Emma.”
I sighed. “It’s not home; it’s just a place where I’m currently living because you told me I have to.” As I pushed myself up from the floor, I looked down at Sasha as she emptied the contents of a ‘match the card’ game onto the floor. “Want to stay up here with Daddy, or come down and help me cook?” I asked.
“Cooks!” she answered, pushing herself up as well but not letting go of the ‘tickle me Elmo’ toy that she seemed to be favouring. Sasha loved to help me cook. Usually, she had just an empty bowl and spoon to bang around with while I cooked, but it was good enough for her.
As the three of us walked out of the room, Sasha’s chubby little hand slipped into Carson’s. He looked down at her hand in shock, and then the biggest, most spectacular grin stretched across his face. It appeared that Sasha had now accepted Carson into her inner circle, and he couldn’t have been happier about it judging by the look on his face.
I WOKE TO THE SOUNDS of dramatic crying through the expensive baby monitors Carson had purchased. I groaned and pushed myself up, sleepily trudging from my room into Sasha’s. My eyes stung and my head ached. I hadn’t had much sleep last night. On top of the house and street being unusually quiet compared to my flat, I also didn’t like being in a different room to my baby girl. It felt wrong and was something that was going to take me a long time to get used to.
From the sound of her cries alone, I already knew there was nothing wrong with her. You could hear the differences when she really meant it. This one was more a, I’ve-just-woken-up-and-am-already-fed-up-with-being-in-my-cot cry. I was used to this one early in the morning. Clearly Carson wasn’t, though.
As I reached into the cot to pick up Sasha, he came pelting into the room in just a pair of navy, long-legged loungewear trousers which hung dangerously low on his hips. He still looked half-asleep as a worried frown creased his forehead. “What’s happened? She okay? Why’s she crying?” he asked, stepping to my side quickly and looking at her worriedly.
I smiled at the concern I could see on his face. “She’s fine. She just woke up in a strange room, that’s all,” I said, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.
He blew out a big breath, raking his hand through his messy hair and causing it to stick up at the front. “Ugh, that’s not a nice thing to wake up to,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“You’ll get used to it,” I replied. As he stepped back and smiled at Sasha, picking up her dummy she’d dropped on the floor, I let my eyes wander over him. I bit back a groan of appreciation as the muscles rippled in his stomach and arms as he moved. My mouth watered with the strong urge to lean in and lick his chest while rubbing my scent over him like a cat. He looked damn fine in the morning. Better than I even dared imagine, actually.
He looked up then and caught me mid-inspection of his body. A sly grin crossed his face. “You can touch it if you want,” he offered playfully.
The blush crept up on me unexpectedly. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” I replied, shaking my head and fighting to control the girlie giggle trying to escape my lips. He grinned that boyish grin, causing the dimples that made my heart stutter. “You want some breakfast or something?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I think I’m gonna go grab a shower to wake me up.”
The thought of a shower automatically made impure thoughts run through my head as I imagined the water trailing down his body, dripping off him. The shower in my room is plenty big enough for two… maybe I need a shower, too…
I shook my head to rid myself of the dirty thoughts and blinked a couple of times when I realised I was standing in the middle of Sasha’s bedroom and not in a hot, steamy shower rubbing a soapy washcloth over Carson’s body. The disappointment hit me hard.
AFTER BREAKFAST, I dressed Sasha and then left her playing in her cot with a couple of dolls, while I went for a quick shower and dressed myself for university today. Once ready, we both headed downstairs. Carson was sitting at the breakfast bar eating a cinnamon swirl left over from the day before. He was dressed in loose-fit jeans and a fitted white T-shirt, and his feet were bare. He grinned at us as we walked in.
“Daddy!” Sasha cried excitedly, suddenly squirming in my arms. I set her down, watching as she hurried to his side and held her arms up to him. He laughed and hooked his hands under her armpits, hoisting her onto his lap. Immediately, she twisted and took his cinnamon swirl from his plate, chewing on it messily.
Carson laughed incredulously. “And here was me thinking you were excited to see me, when all the time you were plotting to steal my breakfast!” he teased, poking her in the ribs and making her giggle.
I laughed at the adorable sight and headed to the fridge, pulling out butter and ham. “Okay if I make some packed lunch stuff for today?” I asked, turning back to Carson. He raised one eyebrow, and his jaw tightened. I sighed, already knowing what he was thinking. “Don’t ask permission, Emma; this is your home now,” I muttered, trying to do an impression of his deep, throaty voice.
“Exactly,” he confirmed, taking a sip of his tea as he wrapped his free arm around Sasha, holding her securely on his lap as she ate his cake.
I nodded, getting to work making lunch. “Don’t suppose you know the tube route to my uni, do you?” I asked absentmindedly. Today was my first day back there after all this blew up; I didn’t really want to be late because I was lost on the tube.
“I can drive you,” Carson answered. “If you tell me what time you finish, I’ll pick you up after, too.”
My stomach clenched at the kind gesture. “Are you not working today then?”
“No, I called and explained the situation. I have a few days off. I can’t get out of the meetings I have scheduled this weekend, though, so I’ll be going away on Thursday morning and not coming back until Sunday night.”
He was going away? “Oh,” was all I could think to say.
“I’m going to Italy,” he continued.
“That’s nice.”
He cleared his throat. “You, er… want to come?”
Come? To Italy? Hell yeah, I do! But it wasn’t possible. “I can’t. Sasha and I don’t have passports.”
He frowned and nodded slowly. “Oh. Well, we’ll have to rectify that, I guess. Won’t get it sorted by Thursday, though.” He pursed his lips in thought. “Maybe next time I go away?” he offered.
I shrugged noncommittally. Why would he even want us to go with him anyway? Surely he’d have more fun on his own living his single life than having his supposed-fiancée there and his two-year-old daughter?
“I’ll get someone to rush you through some passports before my next abroad race. There should be enough time because I only race every other week, and next weekend is actually in England. I shouldn’t need to leave the country again for another three weeks, so that should be plenty of time for someone to arrange some passports for you two,” he mused. “Next weekend, I’m racing at Silverstone. It’s my favourite track. Maybe you could come and watch? You’ve never been to one of my races before,” he offered, seeming somewhat hopeful about it.
I gulped, not wanting to go because I hated that he had a dangerous job, but also knowing I needed to go so we could show a united front. It wouldn’t look very good for him if I kept avoiding his races, and I didn’t have a single reason why I couldn’t go.
“Um… okay.”
“Great.” He seemed rather pleased with my answer.
“JUST IGNORE THE PAPS. Say ‘no comment’, and remind them they’re not allowed to print pictures of Sasha,” Carson instructed as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, glaring out the window at the group of photographers that had followed us to my school from his house.
“Okay,” I agreed, picking up my bag of books and swinging it onto my shoulder. As I gripped the door handle and pushed the door open, Carson placed his hand on my leg.
“Emma?”
I turned back to him, noticing he looked kind of nervous. “Yeah?”
“Kiss me goodbye?” he requested, leaning over the middle of the seat toward me.
I gulped and my eyes immediately dropped to his lips. Not actually needing to be told twice, I closed the distance between us and crushed my lips against his roughly, kissing him fiercely. Deep down, I knew he only wanted this because the photographers were probably busy taking shots of us kissing in the car, but I actually couldn’t have cared less. With Carson’s lips against mine, nothing else mattered in the world. He moaned in the back of his throat and brought his hand up, gripping the back of my head and holding my mouth to his securely.
Of course, I wasn’t the one to break the kiss because I never wanted it to end. Instead, he pulled back fractionally before kissing me again, softer this time. I smiled against his lips, loving the intimacy of the move. His nose brushed against mine in a little Eskimo kiss before he pressed his forehead to mine.
“Have a good day,” he whispered.
I couldn’t open my eyes. I was still lost within the bliss of his mouth on mine. When I traced my tongue along my bottom lip, I could taste him.
“Mummy?”
I gulped. Sasha’s little voice brought me out of the little romantic haze I found myself trapped in. “Yeah, we’re going, beautiful. Say bye to Daddy,” I said, clearing my throat as I pulled back and smiled sheepishly at Carson.
“Bye, Daddy!” Sasha chirped, already pressing at the button on her car seat to release her seatbelt.
“I’ll be here just after three then, all right?” Carson said before twisting in his seat and playfully tugging on Sasha’s foot. “Be a good girl at nursery.”
Carson had offered to have Sasha for the day today, but I had just felt it was a little too soon. Although she liked him, spending the whole day with her this soon would probably be a little awkward for them both. They needed time to adapt, and Sasha actually loved her crèche and her little friends who went there.
As I helped Sasha out of her car seat, I swung her onto my hip and pulled up her hood so it covered her face. The paparazzi immediately started asking me questions and walking alongside me. I just stayed quiet the whole time, keeping my gaze firmly focussed on the door of the building, counting the steps until it would be over. Carson had already assured me they wouldn’t be allowed to set foot inside the building, some code of privacy or something schools and stuff had. They had to ask permission to set foot on campus grounds – and they wouldn’t have that.
Once safely inside the building, I went to the next window and peeked out, seeing Carson drive off. I breathed a sigh of relief that it was over for a while. Hopefully by the time I came out of class at the end of the day, they would have lost interest and be gone.
The nursery Sasha went to was a little colourful wing of the building, which was especially for students who had children. There were only two nursery nurses who worked there, and an assistant. They only had about twelve children aged between zero and four. This place was a godsend for me and the sole reason I applied here in the first place.
As I stepped through the door, the two mothers I saw every other day – Katherine and Simone – both stopped talking midsentence and looked at me in disbelief. I forced a smile and set down Sasha, taking off her jacket and hanging it on her peg with her lunchbox before watching her run off to the kitchen/home play area to talk gobbledygook with her friend, Scarlet, just like every other day.
I cleared my throat and walked up to the pair who now had their heads together, whispering and trying not to look at me. “Hi. Good weekend?” I asked politely. “Did you get that assignment done you were worried about, Simone?”
Simone pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. “Barely managed it.” She shared a meaningful look with Katherine and then turned back to me. “We should really go. See you around,” she stated, waving goodbye to the nursery nurse who had just stepped out of the bathrooms with one of the little boys from the crèche.
I nodded, hating that they looked at me with so much distaste and didn’t even have the decency to try and disguise it. I had known both of these girls for over a year; Simone I knew for a year and a half. I saw them every day, laughed with them, chatted. They knew me. But yet they were now looking at me with distain and clearly couldn’t get away from me quick enough. It actually hurt.
“Okay. Want to grab a coffee or something at lunch?” I asked, hoping I was wrong and they hadn’t read the papers, that they weren’t looking down their noses at me and I was just being paranoid.
Katherine’s nose wrinkled unconsciously. “We’re busy, sorry.”
Nasty bitch! So much for the common bond we’d made over the last year that she’d been dropping her little boy off for! “Oh, with non-lap dancers I suppose,” I muttered, nodding knowingly. She didn’t answer; she just shrugged, clearly not even feeling guilty. I sighed and turned away, walking over to Sasha. I already knew people would react differently to me today, but I wasn’t expecting it to come from people who actually knew me. I could hear them whispering behind me, but I didn’t look back as they left the room, letting the door swing closed behind them.
As I got to Sasha’s side, I bent and kissed her cheek, listening to her prattle on to her best baby friend in a language I had no hope of deciphering. “Mummy has to go to her lessons now. I’ll see you later. I love you.” She broke her chatter long enough to kiss me back, and then was frying up some fake eggs in the plastic kitchen.
When I got to the door of the nursery and twisted the safety lock to open it, the nursery assistant called my name. I stopped, turning and smiling at her. Hilda was a lovely, jolly, older lady who Sasha adored because she wasn’t afraid to get down on her knees and be silly with the kids. “Hi, Hilda,” I greeted.
She smiled awkwardly. “Hi, Emma. Umm… Cindy would like a word with you,” she said, nodding over her shoulder. When I looked in that direction, I saw the two nursery nurses talking heatedly.
“What about? Is something wrong?” I asked, letting the door click closed behind me.
Hilda cleared her throat, looking down at the floor as she shrugged. “I don’t know. She just asked me to ask you to speak to her if you came to drop Sasha off today. We weren’t even sure you’d come after… you know…” she said.
‘You know’. Yes, I knew exactly what this would be about. They’d seen the papers, and I was now about to be judged on it and my choice of profession. I suppressed my groan and nodded. “Sure, I have time quickly before class.” I didn’t actually have much time to spare, but I’d have to make time. I followed Hilda to the back of the room again, seeing Sasha still playing with her friend.
Cindy looked up as I approached. She didn’t smile. Her eyes were tight, as were her lips which were pressed into a thin line. “Oh, Miss Bancroft, I’d like a word in the office,” she stated, waving her hand towards her poky little cubicle in the corner that constituted an office just because it had a desk and a telephone.
The casual use of my title when she usually called me Emma alerted me to the fact this was going to be worse than I first thought.