Chapter Twenty-Two

They took a few more minutes together alone on the busy sidewalk before going back inside. This time, with her hand firmly in his, Wilder led Bailey back upstairs to the floor occupied by the DN. He gave her arm a little swing as they passed the receptionist’s desk. He took great glee in watching the woman’s eyes go wide a second before she picked up her phone and snapped a photo.

Bailey glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. “What was that about?”

“Someone leaked the story. I just figured I’d cover our bases.”

“You think . . .” Bailey turned around again, nearly stumbling over her feet. “Won’t that make Devon mad?”

“Probably. I don’t care.” He stopped suddenly and held on to her tight to keep her from falling flat on her face. “Do you?”

“Well . . .” She pursed her lips and considered the question for a good few seconds. “I suppose not. I just . . . are you sure about this?”

“I’m sure I’m crazy about you. I’m sure that life isn’t worth living if you’re pretending to be somebody you’re not. I’m sure I’m tired of being bullied into doing something that isn’t right. And I’m sure I’m willing to risk everything to be with you. Because, Bailey Honey, I’m not just crazy about you. I l—”

“Wilder.” Devon stepped into the hallway with Waverly following closely behind. He glanced at their linked hands and acknowledged it with a raised eyebrow. “Ms. Meredith. Just who we were hoping to find. Could you spare a couple of minutes to chat?”

“As a matter of fact—”

“Wilder,” Waverly interrupted. “We need to talk. She darted a nervous look at Devon, then Bailey. “Just the two of us?”

“I don’t—”

“Of course,” Bailey said. Wilder rounded on his heel, ready to tell her they were in this together, but she squeezed his hand to silence him. “Before there was you and me, before there was Waverly and Devon, before there was Playing House, there was you and Waverly.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No matter what happens between you and me, Waverly and Devon, and your TV show, there’s still going to be you and Waverly. There will,” she insisted, when he gave a dubious expression, “because there’s a little girl who needs you both. No matter what.”

She was right, like usual. Even in his anger, he couldn’t forget about Virginia. It’s why he’d kept his emotions in check for so many years. It wouldn’t do anyone any favors if he suddenly unleashed years of anger in a few spiteful words.

“Okay.” He nodded, then faced Waverly. “Let’s talk.”

“Can we take the conference room?” she asked Devon.

Devon eyed them both cautiously, but nodded with a stiff jaw. “Of course.” He opened the door and encouraged them to step in with a sweeping gesture. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Wilder started to follow, but turned to Bailey at the last minute. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Go.”

He kept his eyes on her until Waverly closed the door behind them, blocking his view. He stood motionless for a moment, willing himself to hold on to the frenzy of anger and confusion warring through him. If today could be over. If he could just fast-forward through whatever had to be said with Waverly and then Devon, then whoever else had to be included, he’d be forever grateful. Then he could find Bailey and tell her what he should have said a long time ago. Then he’d ask her what she wanted next, and he’d really listen. Then together, they would decide what to do next.

Before that conversation, he’d have to get through this one first. And because there didn’t seem to be a fast-forward option available, he’d have to man up and just do it.

Once they were alone in the conference room, and the door was closed behind them, Wilder wasted no time. “What is this,” he asked coolly, motioning to her stomach, “doing on the news?”

“I can’t keep the pregnancy quiet much longer. I could start showing any day. With the book and the new season, people were bound to notice and start asking questions. Devon thought it was better to stay on top of it.”

“So you leaked it?”

“The network did.”

“Okay . . . So when the network leaked the news, when the two of you decided it was time to make an announcement, you decided to do it without giving me a heads-up?”

“Again, Devon thought it was for the best.”

Devon didn’t know shit, but Wilder stopped short of saying it out loud. “And you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you think it was better to blindside me?”

“Well . . . I didn’t really think about it much.”

“Jesus, Waverly. Do you care about me or my feelings at all?”

“I know you’re surprised, but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s what we’d have to do anyway when we sign on for another season.”

“You think I want to do another season?”

“Of course. This is what we do. It’s our job. Our ratings are better than ever and store sales are through the roof. Why would we stop now?”

“You assume I’d want to keep working with you after this?” He clenched his fists at his side and had to remind himself of Bailey’s words. That no matter what happened, he and Waverly were forever linked through Virginia. “You have to be out of your mind.”

“You want out of the show? To do what? To go back to hammering two-by-fours for minimum wage? Or do you think you can get solo and get the same kind of ratings and sales? Because let me tell you this: you’re nothing without the brand—my brand.”

He’d struck a nerve with her before. By all appearances, it was still stinging and she was ready to inflict pain back on him.

“The brand. Of course. You mean the one you left Bailey and me to manage while you’ve been cozying up with Devon?”

“You’re hardly in a position to call me out for dating someone else.”

“That’s not—”

“Look at what’s going on in your own bedroom. You’ve been sleeping with my design assistant. Our employee. If that isn’t a conflict of interest—”

“Leave her out of this.”

“Why?” Waverly put a protective hand over her belly. “You stand there slut shaming me—”

“I’m not—”

“And you’re accusing me of, well, I’m not actually sure what you’re trying to say. But remember this—”

“Oh, this should be good—”

“You’re the one who changed the game plan. Not me.”

He shook his head. “What plan?”

“And for what? For her?”

“This isn’t just about her. But since you refuse to leave her out of this, how could you be so inconsiderate of Bailey? After everything she’s done for you—for us.”

“It’s not like she was doing it out of the goodness of her heart. She got a paycheck, and whatever else she takes from Devon.”

That gave him pause. “What do you mean?”

“Devon is a businessman. He knows how to deal with savvy career climbers. I’m sure they’ll come to terms.”

“She’s not an opportunist.”

“Are you so sure about that?” She plopped down on a chair, running soothing motions over her belly. She might appear at ease, but her eyes said otherwise. They looked ready to cut if given the chance. “It didn’t take her long to get herself on camera.”

“That was necessary. You were gone and we were behind schedule. Renee practically begged her to do it. And I’ll remind you, that only happened after you went AWOL.”

“Are you sure that’s how it happened? Because it wasn’t much later that she hopped into your bed. Can you level with me on something that I can’t quite wrap my brain around?”

“What?” He couldn’t quite keep the venom out of his voice.

“In this moment, are you thinking with your dick or your head?”

His eye twitched. “Neither.”

“I suppose you’re going to put on some lover boy act and say this is about love and passion and following your heart.”

“It wouldn’t be an act.”

“Whatever you say. You used to be so rational, so easy to understand. Now . . . you’re someone who’s left his libido in charge.”

“Waverly,” his already chilly voice turned to solid ice. “You should be careful.”

“Or what? You’ll quit the show? We both know you’ll never do that.”

“Why not?”

She arched an eyebrow. “The same reason you haven’t quit before.”

There it was. The underlying threat that had carried them through each season. The one neither of them ever spoke about explicitly—at least, not to each other. He’d always known she would make his life hell if he quit, but she’d never actually said it. He needed her to say it now.

“And why exactly is that?”

“You don’t want the bad press.”

“To hell with the press. I don’t care—”

“You might not care about what people say about you, but you care about what they will say about the people you do care about.” She never flinched, and he was reminded of why so many people found Waverly intimidating once they got to know her. “A lot will come out in a custody hearing.”

It always came back to Virginia and what he’d do for her. She was right. They both knew it, and they both knew he’d do anything he could to keep this from hurting her. As he stared at Waverly glaring at him, he wondered how he’d ever loved her. Was there any bit of that woman he’d loved left in the person trying to coerce him?

If he allowed himself, he was almost certain he could hate her.

“I’m curious about something.”

“What?”

“Someday, when Virginia is old enough to understand all of this, what are you going to tell her?”

“About?”

“About how you cared so little about her father that you turned him into a spineless yes-man. About how you used her to make me do whatever you felt like.”

It wasn’t entirely fair. While she’d used Virginia, he’d allowed her to do it without putting up a fight. He was as much to blame as she was, but he didn’t feel like playing fair right now.

“I’m tired. Tired of moving around. Tired of the cameras. Tired of jumping when you give the order. But mostly, I’m tired of living a lie. I just can’t do this anymore.”

They wouldn’t come to any terms or resolutions today. Not while they were both so angry and unwilling to compromise. He moved toward the door. With his hand on the door, he glanced over his shoulder. Waverly was still breathing heavily, silently fuming.

“Look, we both need to take a little time to cool off.”

“You’re right.”

“And while we do, you might ask yourself if all of this is really worth it. You might try to figure out if your heart is even in it anymore. When you figure that out, let me know.”

He didn’t give her time to answer. Instead, he slipped outside. Leaning against the door, he breathed in, giving himself a moment to collect himself. That hadn’t been easy, or particularly productive. But it had felt good to get years of frustration off his chest.

After a moment, once he was feeling more himself, he pushed away and went to find the only person—the only thing—in his life that made sense.

***

While Wilder and Waverly disappeared behind the conference room door to come to an arrangement, Devon invited Bailey into his office. She considered refusing him. She didn’t particularly want to talk to him. Or anyone for that matter. It wasn’t even noon, and she was already emotionally drained for the day. Plus, she’d downed three hot dogs, which wasn’t her best move. But because he was still technically her boss, and because it would have been immature to throw a fit, she’d followed him into his office.

She surveyed her surroundings the way she would have any potential project. She started with the focal point of his office—the desk. The asymmetrical walnut wood masterpiece had probably set him back at least five or six thousand dollars.

Following her gaze, he said, “It’s Italian.”

She was right. At least five thousand. Though oddly enough, it appeared to be made out of American wood and leather. The light weathered finish screamed West Coast chill, which didn’t particularly match the man now seated behind it. He’d bought an American-style desk from Italy. Wilder and Felix could have custom-built him one exactly like it over a weekend for a fraction of the cost. But this was show biz. He probably had a reputation to uphold. How could he look the other executives in the eye if he didn’t have the same fancy office suite as all of them?

The man in question studied her as closely as she did the desk. Yet his voice was cool, almost bored when he spoke. “We hope you understand how much we appreciate your discretion with this . . . situation. We’re prepared to show you just how much we appreciate the way you’ve handled everything.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that a fact?”

The smirk stayed firmly in place. “We have a couple of proposals for you.” Even from behind a desk, he could grandstand like no one she’d ever seen before. “We’re prepared to set you up with your own construction crew and production team to develop a new TV show for the DN or one of our sister networks. It’s a developmental deal, which doesn’t guarantee your show will make it on the air, but we’ll have a vested interest in making sure it does. We’re impressed with the work you’ve done this season.”

A developmental deal with the most popular design channel in the world wasn’t a bad offer for someone who was working a crappy entry-level job, with no potential, a year ago. It was basically a Cinderella story for a prematurely washed-up designer.

It was a generous offer, but he didn’t need her to acknowledge it. They both knew the stakes.

“I imagine we could also set you up with your own blog or website. Your team could help you with the updates, but it would give you a solid brand platform for expansion. Especially with the power of the Design Network behind you.”

She’d never imagined herself as a brand. Even during her months working on the show, she’d never considered what it would be like to have it all for herself. But it would be pretty exciting. She could do something like The Basics with Bailey, which would focus on easy DIY home design. Or maybe they’d do something more specific, like creating beautiful, but functional living spaces. She wasn’t sure what she’d call that show, but she was only two minutes into her developmental deal meeting.

“What else?”

He stroked his chin, still watching her with those hawk-like eyes, like he was waiting to pounce and prey on any weakness she might show. “If you’d rather not continue your association with the network, which we can certainly understand given how challenging this has been, we’re prepared to offer you a bonus.”

“A bonus?”

“You put more work into this season of Playing House than your contract stipulated. It’s only fair we rewarded you, financially, for your efforts. It’d be equal to what we’d invest if we kept you in the DN family, but you’d have the option to spend it however you like. Maybe you’ll want to start your own design firm back in Texas? I don’t know. It’s up to you.”

She wasn’t a business expert—her focus had always been on the creative side—but she was pretty sure these were buyout offers. His proposed payment for getting her to revoke any claims on Wilder with as little fuss as possible and out of the public eye.

A year ago, she never would have imagined any of this. She never would have wanted her own show or do-it-yourself website. It never would have occurred to her to set up a business. Not when she was still so new and had so much to prove.

She never would have expected to fall so hard for a man and have him used as collateral. Not when she’d always sworn against being the kind of woman who let a man affect her thoughts.

Yet here she was with possibilities. Part of her—the struggling designer—wanted to take one of the offers. But she couldn’t. No matter which one she chose, she’d still be giving up a piece of herself and a part of her heart.

What good was having a heart when you were missing a giant chunk of it?

“Okay . . .” She cleared her throat. “I have to ask you something.”

“Certainly.”

“You leaked the story to the media. Didn’t you?”

“I might have had something to do with it.”

“Okay. Do you love Waverly?”

“I don’t—”

“Please.” She held up a hand to silence his protest. “Let’s be honest with each other if we’re going to do this.”

His frown remained in place, but he nodded. “Sure. Yes.” The words came out quick and stern, but in a blink, he let out a heavy breath. Like he’d been holding on to it for some time. For an instant, his eyes lightened. Like admitting it out loud to someone had unleashed a heavy weight from his chest. “I love Waverly.”

“And the baby?”

“The baby, too. I love the baby.”

“If you love that woman, then how can you let her pretend to be someone else’s wife?” She paused, holding her breath to avoid inadvertently letting out a sob after all of this. “If you love your child, how can you let someone else play its father?”

“It’s only temporary—”

“Nothing is temporary. Not when you put it on TV and the Internet.” Her hands flattened against the smooth wood of his desk. “You basically run a channel for God’s sakes. You of all people should know nothing goes away, no one forgets. What happens when your baby is old enough to run a search engine? What about Virginia? There’s no way she can completely understand what’s going on. You’re fucking up two kids’ lives because of some stupid show no one will care about in a few more seasons.”

His frown was back—and this time his face turned red. He sputtered without making sense. Interspersed with the nonsense, she was able to make out key phrases, like “how dare you” and “coldhearted bitch.” She let him take a few jabs, because he was angry. Just like she was. Maybe it was petty, but she wanted him on her level. She was spoiling for a good fight.

Shakily, Devon poured himself a glass of water from a crystal pitcher. He swallowed half of it, before setting it down and meeting her gaze.

“Okay, I might be putting business before my personal life. But aren’t you asking Wilder to jeopardize what matters most to him if you get him to quit and move back to Texas with you?”

“I haven’t asked him to do anything.”

“Maybe not, but he wants to give it all up for you, whether or not you’ve asked. If he gives up the show, his business, he’ll also be giving up his only tangible link to Virginia.”

“I don’t—”

“Because I can assure you, he won’t find it an easy fight to get more than two weeks of visitation a year. Even getting that far will be a challenge. I’ll personally make sure the case stays in the courts until Virginia is in high school.”

Bailey sucked in a breath. “You’re blackmailing me.”

“Ms. Meredith, I would never. I’m just explaining how difficult things might be for you and Wilder if you make any rash decisions. Particularly without considering the ramifications. This isn’t blackmail. It’s a sincere warning. Because when the time comes, who is he going to choose? You or his daughter?”

They stared at each other. Now he was the composed one. Suddenly, she wasn’t so keen to fight.

Bailey opened her mouth to say something—anything—but a light rapping at the office door drew their attention.

Devon rose to his feet. “Our guest is just in time.”

She frowned and was about to ask what guest when the door swung open. A man with silver-streaked hair and a belly that bulged out of his smartly cut suit entered. Her stomach dropped to her toes.

The man met her glare and swallowed hard. “Bailey.” His voice cracked.

“Dad.”

Devon ushered her father forward, giving her a chance to inspect him more closely. She supposed the suit and silver streaks gave him a somewhat dignified air. Wasn’t that just unfair? How could a man who’d lived as hard as her father look dignified? He paused just shy of the other chair. He nearly sat, but instead inched closer to her. He reached out a hand. “Bailey Honey—”

His use of the endearment was too much. She jumped out of her seat and ran to stand behind it to put something physical in between them.

“No. I didn’t sign up for this.” She looked between Devon and her father, pain spreading through her chest, threatening to erupt. “I didn’t sign up for any of this.”

For the second time that day, she ran away, leaving her father calling after her while a smirk spread across Devon’s face. She ran all the way out of the office, frantically pressing the elevator buttons, willing it to come faster. She no longer cared about making a dignified exit. There was no chance of it. She’d already had her dignity stripped. All she could do now was escape before the tears consumed her.