This woman was nothing like I’d anticipated.

Elizabeth Lawson was a vision. Not that I’d expected her to be anything else, but she was somehow… more. I’d seen my share of models and actresses, plenty of sexy bartenders and exotic dancers too. I was, in many ways, accustomed to their beauty. Their svelte, willowy bodies. Long, toned legs. Picture-perfect makeup and hair at all times. Everything about them was carefully sculpted, arranged just so.

But this girl was different. Standing there just past the threshold, she was wearing a baggy pair of pajama pants and what appeared to be a tanktop just hauled out of the bottom of a laundry bin, with her hair in a loose ponytail and her face completely devoid of makeup. I could smell the fresh scent of her, and judging by the dampness of her locks, it was obvious she’d just stepped out of the shower not long before my arrival.

Half-dressed and looking more than a little pissed at me, she was more glamorous, more intensely beautiful than any other woman I’d ever had the pleasure of being with. That made me wish all the more that I could remember what we’d done together. God willing, we might just get to make some new memories.

“Mind if I come in?” I asked, flashing a charming smile I’d used a thousand times to get girls into the sack. “I think we’ve got some things to talk about.”

“You’re damned right we do,” Elizabeth said, her scowl deepening as she moved aside to let me cross the threshold. The door shut behind me and her anger only seemed to deepen. “You’ve got a hell of a lot of explaining to do. And don’t call me Lizzie if you want to keep breathing.”

I could feel my smile faltering. From the tone of her voice I could tell that she wasn’t exactly thrilled with this situation—though I couldn’t blame her, honestly.

Unless this girl was one hell of an actress, that threw Tessa’s theory about her being some kind of scheming gold-digger right out the window. I felt the muscles in my shoulders loosen just a little. Maybe that would have made things easier, had she been heartless, but it was nice to know she wasn’t.

“Well…” I began, trying my best to come up with some way to spell out the situation that didn’t leave me sounding like a complete idiot. But before I could even get out a second syllable, the door burst open again and Tessa pushed her way in behind me.

“You’re not going to say another word, Julian,” she said, slamming the door in an overly eager photographer’s face.

“Who the hell are you?” Elizabeth asked, narrowing her eyes as Tessa strode into the center of the room.

“I’m the person who’s about to change your life,” Tessa replied, letting out a little laugh.

“I think my life’s been changed plenty, thanks,” Elizabeth said, holding her hand up to stop Tessa from continuing on. “All I want is for things to go back to normal—which means you both need to get the hell out of here. Forever.”

“Come now Lizzie,” I said, trying to sound appealing. “We know this situation isn’t precisely ideal, but if you hear me and Tessa out, maybe we can—”

The way Elizabeth turned her gaze on me stopped me cold, and were it possible, I think steam might have billowed from her nostrils. Her face flushed with color, her hands clenching—I knew immediately that I’d done something terribly wrong.

And then I remembered what she’d said to me at the door.

Oh, balls.

“Don’t ever call me Lizzie,” she said, her voice just barely audible over the sound of my own heartbeat. This woman was utterly terrifying when she was mad—even at a whole foot shorter than me.

“Sorry, love,” I replied, doing my damnedest not to sound as frightened as I was. I was used to dealing with women who were a mite less dangerous than this one was, and a lot more willing to strip down to their knickers at the snap of my fingers. Seeing a girl like this was not something I was at all accustomed to… and hell, it was almost refreshing.

“No offense meant.”

“Shut it, Jules,” Tessa hissed at me, her gaze as withering as ever. I’d learned over the years that it was best to let Tessa deal with things like this, mostly from her constantly reminding me as much.

“Ms. Lawson,” Tessa began, a thin smile stretching her lips, “Do you think maybe we could speak for a moment, alone?”

She motioned toward the corner and I became suddenly aware that Elizabeth had company. This tall one looked a little happier to see me. Her cheeks flushed red as we locked eyes.

“She is staying. There isn’t a damn thing you can say to me that you can’t say to her,” Elizabeth said angrily.

Tessa turned to the tall woman in the corner as if noticing her for the first time. “And you are?”

“Jennifer Crane,” she answered, folding her arms over her chest. “My friends call me Jenna or Jen.” She smiled. “Which means you can call me Jennifer.”

Tess just gave her a little nod. “We understand what a shock this must be to you Elizabeth. That being said, we think that perhaps we could turn this… happy accident to our mutual benefit.”

“Happy accident? What in the hell are you talking about?” Elizabeth asked. “There’s no way that I’m doing anything except filing for a divorce or an annulment! What ‘mutual benefit’ do you think there is to any of this?”

“Well,” Tessa said, taking a breath and steadying herself against Elizabeth’s shouting, “there is the matter of financial compensation. We’d be willing to negotiate a sizable settlement when we do deem a divorce to be prudent to our goals.”

“Your goals?” Jen asked, cocking a brow. “What does that even mean?”

Tessa blinked impassively. “I’m sure you’d find it fascinating. Although, I do believe I was talking to Ms. Lawson here. Or rather, Mrs. Bastille.”

The way Elizabeth flinched when Tessa mentioned my last name hurt a little. Was I really so unappealing to her? And why? Every other woman I’d met looked at me like I was the juiciest steak they’d ever lain eyes on. But not her. Not Elizabeth. I rubbed at the back of my neck. Was this why she’d run out on me in Vegas?

“You’ll have to leave,” Tessa continued, examining her nails. “I won’t continue this conversation any further with a fourth party in the room.”

“She’s my friend!” Elizabeth protested, drawing Tessa’s attention again. “And the only one I have in this room. She’s not going anywhere.”

Tessa squinted faintly behind her glasses. She was usually so good at this. Either her dismissals cowed whoever they were directed at, or she was able to manipulate them into a state of calm submission some other way. It looked like she’d finally met her match in Elizabeth.

“I’m not prepared to speak about sensitive, perhaps even legal, matters in front of someone who’s not directly involved.”

Elizabeth held her gaze. “Then don’t. You know where the door is.”

Silence fell over the four of us for a long moment. Tessa had a point—we were discussing subjects that were better kept between as few people as possible. You know what they say: two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead. But on the other hand, Jen seemed so important to Elizabeth, and that immediately put me on her side of things. Maybe it was the way she didn’t let Tessa—or anyone, it seemed—push her around that turned me on so much. Whatever it was, I’d developed a sort of instant fondness for the girl.

“What’s more important, Tess,” I ventured, “that we all pull out our dicks and measure them here, or that we make this girl who has so much riding on her cooperation feel just a teensy bit more comfortable?”

Tessa seemed ready to rebuke me. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged. There was a look of consternation on her face, one that made her frown lines all the more prominent. I couldn’t help but smile. Ah, so this was what my manager looked like when she’d been outsmarted. Brilliant.

She turned to Jen. “Just so long as you understand that whatever is said here, whatever deals are made, none of it leaves this room.”

“Deals?” Elizabeth asked, brow furrowed. “Evidently, Mr. Bastille and I got drunk and married in Vegas. That’s not exactly what I’d call a point of negotiation. What could you possibly get out of all this?”

“Some good press,” Tessa stated matter-of-factly, nodding at me. “Mr. Bastille and I are looking to increase his presence in America, and having a bona fide scandal is the perfect way to get the ball rolling—and when the two of you eventually divorce, it’ll make for an even bigger news story. You two go your separate ways with your pockets significantly heavier.”

“You don’t really seem like you want to be married to me,” I interjected, watching Elizabeth’s expression flicker. “I get that. But think about how much this’ll pay off for you if you just… play along. You must have things you need paid for, right? Would a few months of pretend marital bliss be so bad in exchange for a huge settlement once it’s all over?”

I watched as the gears turned in her head. She was considering the offer, considering what we’d both said. But to my surprise, she didn’t look particularly happy about it. She glanced at her friend, Jenna, who gave a shake of her head that made her ebony curls bounce. Now she was the kind of girl I usually fell in with. Why couldn’t I have chosen someone like her, instead of the one woman on earth who senselessly hated my guts?

Well, senseless if you didn’t count the fact that I’d married her in such an inebriated state that I didn’t even remember it. Or the fact I’d forgotten her name, probably just as quickly as I’d learned it. Or there was also the whole thing where, in the wake of said wedding there were now scores of paparazzi camped out at her door.

All right, so maybe she had a few reasons…

“Listen,” Elizabeth said at last, “I didn’t want any of this. I still don’t. I don’t care about any money or… or some publicity stunt. I just want to get back to my life and my job and get these goddamn reporters off my lawn. So if you can just both…”

A cell phone buzzed. I checked my pockets, but mine was still on airplane mode. Tessa glanced at hers, but I could tell by the look on her face it was no dice. Jen went to her purse on the couch, but came back empty-handed.

“That’s mine,” Elizabeth said, looking down at her screen. A small, relieved smile curled the corners of her lips, and I wished I knew what a full one might look like.

“Finally!” she said, pushing past both me and Tessa as she walked down the hallway toward what must have been her bedroom.

Tessa shook her head and walked a few feet away into the kitchen, dialing a number on her own cell phone. There were definitely people she needed to call, and my lawyer would be the first no matter how this little meeting went.

“Sorry about that,” Jen said as I made it my somber duty to hold up the wall. “Liz has been waiting for that call all day.”

“Something important?” I asked, flashing my usual grin—only this time, it seemed to have the desired effect.

“Yeah—I mean, I think it might be,” Jen stammered, beaming like she’d just won the lottery. Well, at least someone here likes me, I thought. “Liz hasn’t been feeling well for the last couple of days, so it’s probably her doctor.”

“Nothing too serious, I hope,” I said with a frown.

Jen shook her head, those pretty ringlets of hers bouncing again. “I don’t think so. Stomach bug, probably.”

The two of us stood there in silence for what seemed like forever, Jen idly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. It reminded me of that event Tessa had tried to make into a regular thing at my shows—meeting a fan before I’d gone on, before they’d even gotten drunk. It had just ended up being two people in a room feeling awkward. I was almost relieved when she opened her mouth again.

“I feel really stupid saying this, but… I’m a huge fan.”

Nervously, she chewed her bottom lip. I couldn’t help but give a chuckle.

“It’s always nice meeting a fan,” I said. Hopefully, she’d forgiven me for my blunder in Vegas—the one that didn’t involve a marriage certificate. And if I was lucky, she wouldn’t start asking me about one of my—

“Was I Wanna Feel You really about dating that supermodel back in 2007?” Jen asked, eyes all aglow. “Because I keep trying to tell my friend Sasha that it was about someone from back before you—”

“It was a long time ago,” I interrupted, kindly but firmly. “Honestly, I forget who I wrote it about.”

That was a lie; I remembered exactly why I wrote that song. Back in those days, I’d started to lose some traction in the industry—fans started dropping off, concerts weren’t sold out anymore—so Tessa sold me on the idea of writing a bunch of songs about a girl who got away. The whole album was pure bullshit. That’s about the same time I’d taken up drinking as a hobby. It was easier to do things you didn’t want to do when you couldn’t actually feel yourself doing them.

“Oh,” Jen said, her face falling slightly like I’d just told her that Santa wasn’t real. She recovered quickly enough, though. “Well, what about Give Me Some More? Who’d you write that one about?”

I tried to give her that panty-wetting grin again, hoping to brighten her mood. I hated disappointing people, especially fans, but how much better did it make it to lie to her about why I wrote that garbage?

“That one,” I said, putting on a wistful look in the hopes I could fool her into thinking I was reminiscing. “That one was about a girl I’d met when I was still just sixteen.”

“That’s so sweet!” she cooed, stars in her eyes again.

“I wasn’t always the man I am today,” I said, shaking my head. “That girl’s probably more deserving of the praise than I am.”

Jen’s eyes widened. She started to smile, but all the air was sucked out of the room as Elizabeth joined us in the living room again.

“Jesus, hun. You look like hell,” Jen said, rushing over to Elizabeth’s side. She wasn’t wrong—Elizabeth’s face was utterly ashen and her eyes were glazed with the kind of thousand-yard stare I hadn’t seen outside of combat veterans. “What’d the doctor say?”

For a few moments, Elizabeth didn’t speak. Her knees were locked and trembling, and were it not for Jen’s support, I think she might have toppled right over. I took a step closer. The least I could do was catch the poor thing if she fainted.

“Are you all right?” I asked her, dread coiling in my stomach.

Elizabeth raised her eyes to me and I searched them, seeking some kind of understanding. All I saw in Elizabeth’s gaze was an indistinct, animal fear and a deep well of sadness. I braced myself for the worst.

“No,” she said at last. “No, I’m not all right.” Her lower lip trembled and a sob wracked her shoulders. “I’m pregnant.”

The breath left my lungs all at once. Maybe I had been preparing for the worst… but I certainly hadn’t been prepared for that.