Three months later
THINGS HAVE BEEN A LITTLE easier these last three months. I still miss Cohen, but shortly after I found out about the baby, he was able to get a message through e-mail that he would be home soon. Of course, his soon was in the next few months, but that was better than the unknown timeframe we had been working with since he left.
With the push of strength that his short e-mail gave me, I felt like I could face the world. We still didn’t know exactly when he would return, but we knew it would be soon.
Things at work have been easier, too. When I got back after my fall, Sway was predictably in his extreme mothering mode. He would only let me work half days, and those days that I did work were always light. No coloring or heavy treatments. I was restricted to cuts and the like. Actually, now that I think about it, he hasn’t let me do a color in almost a month. Every single time, he intercepts my client.
Devon wasn’t too happy about losing his star drama maker, but he worked it in as me being too depressed to work because of my lover having broken my heart.
Whatever.
Surprisingly, Don’s been the annoying one this time. He seems to think my sole purpose in life is to make his job easier by making sure I do things for ratings alone. He wants certain shots, or for me to do one of the lines he has written to give the show more drama, or the one time he asked me to fake a fight with Stella and fake slap her.
I don’t fucking think so.
Mark’s actually been the voice of reason this time. He joined me for lunch in the breakroom a few times before they left to go back to California, and I like to think we had some sort of a friendship. I gave him some pointers on how to win over the girl he’s been dating. I guess you could say I have a soft spot for the guy now.
Of course, they haven’t been around for almost two months. There was apparently a big issue with Devon’s production team back home. Some big-time embezzlement stuff with the higher-ups, and until they could recover some funding that was stolen, they had to pause filming. Last we heard from Sway was that today would be their first day back. I am looking forward to seeing them. I hope that Mark was able to use some of my tips to get closer to his girl.
Unfortunately, one thing that didn’t stop in the last three months was the weekly flower deliveries. They picked up about two weeks after the letter that was found on my car. So far, they’ve been impossible to track, always paid for with a prepaid Visa, and the order placed online. Maddox, the IT guru at Corps Security, has been struggling to actually nail down a location since whoever is actually placing the orders is smart about covering his tracks. So far, the orders have been placed in different locations all over the globe. Well, according the IP addresses, that is.
Needless to say, things have been a little on edge with no answers.
Between Lee and my brother, there has always been someone sleeping at our house. Dad had what already was a top-of-the-line security system replaced with one I still needed a manual to figure out. He’s gotten even worse since I started showing. It’s like my belly’s growing—the sign that the baby is in fact very real—kicked his protective tendencies into overdrive. That tangible sight was all it took. He went as far as to steal my car keys two weeks ago and demand that I let him pick me up for work from that day forward. That was short-lived and got him in the doghouse with Mom for almost a week.
Never a dull moment with him.
Another thing that has changed is my new friendship with Megan. I really feel terrible about my first impression of her when I thought that she was dating Cohen. She’s become a huge support and go-to person for advice. Chance told me that my friendship and the bond she can give me over my pregnancy has given her something to focus on, and he thinks it’s helping her heal. She has her moments, but I think he’s right.
“What are you going to wear today? Planning on showing off that adorable little bump for the cameras?” Megan asks from where she’s lounging on my chaise lounge in the corner of my room.
I look over at her in the mirror I’m using to fix my makeup. She has Molly, her adorable four-year-old daughter, bouncing on her feet with a smile dancing across her beautiful face.
“I think so. Now that I’m over that weird ‘I’m not fat—I’m pregnant’ stage, I find myself wearing the tightest things I can find just so I can show it off.”
“Dani?” I hear Molly say in her singsong voice. She sounds like a little angel. “Can I play with your jewsree?”
“Sure thing, tink.” I ruffle her blond curls when she skips towards my dresser.
“You know she’s going to destroy your jewelry box again,” Megan laughs.
“Eh, let her have at it. I moved all my valuable pieces after the last time. I swear she broke my heart with those tears. I almost told her she could have my grandmother’s hand-me-down pearls!” I tease.
“Tell me about it. I would probably give that girl anything she wants with just the smallest tear. God help me, she’s spoiled rotten.”
“Nah, she’s just well loved.” I give her a smile and pull on my tight, black dress. It hugs my belly perfectly, and the pencil skirt makes my legs look great. I’ve been putting on a little weight in my thighs, but now that I look closely, I just look curvier. My breasts, on the other hand, have really benefited from my pregnancy. I actually have cleavage without having to use a damn good expensive bra to get. “How are you doing, Megs?” I ask, pulling on my black silk blouse.
Today is the second birthday of her late husband since he passed away. It’s a testament to how far she’s come since the sad girl who was at Cohen’s going away party. She’s smiling today when I fully expected her to be locked in her house, crying.
“I’m doing a lot better, Dani. Really, I am. It gets easier every day that passes. I still miss him like crazy, but I’m trying to follow your lead and see the beautiful things in life and focus less on the things that I can’t change. I was a mess when he was deployed during my pregnancy with Molly. I still don’t know how you’re able to wake up every day with such a positive outlook.”
I look over at her with a small smile. “I don’t know if it’s so much of a positive outlook or the knowledge that, regardless of what life throws at me, I’ve been blessed with what life I’ve lived. I can’t spend my life worrying about what might be or what could have been. I lost a lot of time with Cohen. We had one brilliant, eye-opening night together, and it might sound ridiculous, but if that was the last night I ever have with him, I’ll cherish it forever.”
She gives me a nod, and I know she understands. We’ve talked about her holding on to her happier memories and letting go of the hard ones. She understands where I’m coming from.
I know it sounds stupid. One night of us being an “us” was all it took for me. I could have had an hour and the outcome would have been the same. He’s the other half to my heart. It’s been like that for as long as I’ve known him, and no time frame could change that.
I look over my bed at the photo I had blown up and framed in a huge display of just how much I miss the man.
The image my mother gave me months ago—the one of Cohen and me sitting on my parents’ dock almost twenty years ago. The one that proves that we’ve been building this connection for longer than we both could even imagine.
I spend a little more time with Megan and Molly before I have to head into work. After hating the cameras in my face for so long, it’s going to be weird embracing them today. Megan was right. Now that my bump is one hundred percent recognizable, I want the world to know about my little baby.
“Hey, Sway,” I say when I walk into the salon.
He spins on his solid-gold—with glittered embellishments on the heels—stilettos and gives me a big smile.
“Oh, darling girl, come and let Sway rub that belly! My lord, I love babies. Stella!” he screams, and I watch her wince.
I swat his hands away when he tries to open the top buttons of my blouse.
“Yes, Pops?” she responds with an eye roll. “God, leave her tits alone! Sometimes, I wonder if you’re not really straight.”
“Don’t you give me that ’tude! I’ll go get your dad next door and have him remind you that you’re supposed to be sweet to me. I’m just trying to make sure little mama gets her tips. She’s got four male heads to work on today.” He gives me a wink.
“I’m always sweet to you, you weirdo.”
I laugh at them and move around Sway and into the madness of the salon. Looks like a full house today, too. All eight stations are busy—minus Sway’s and mine, of course.
“Where are the cameras at, Sway?” I call over my shoulder as I head to the breakroom to throw my purse in my locker.
“On the way, little mama.”
I manage to get myself in order and a good head start on Mrs. Cartwright’s highlights—without Sway seeing me doing color—before I hear Devon bang his way through the door.
“Ah! If it isn’t my favorite home away from home! Are my little bees ready to buzz today?”
I roll my eyes in the mirror, causing Mrs. Cartwright to giggle.
“Hey, Dani,” Don says from right over my shoulder. “We’re going to need you to look over these story lines.”
I spin on my amazingly kickass black heels and look down at Don. Yeah, down at him. My heels make me maybe right at five foot five and he’s still shorter.
“I’ve already told you, Don. I don’t do fake. If you want someone to beef up your show, then hire an actor.”
“Holy shit, did you swallow a beach ball?”
Oh no he did not.
I might be rounder and my belly might be a very noticeably pregnant, but I am not that big!
He’s looking at me with the strangest look on his face. As if he’s mad about me being pregnant.
“What did you—” I stop talking when I hear a crash in the front and turn my head to see what happened. Mark is bent over to help the cameraman who looks to have tripped and dropped his equipment up.
“Son of a bitch, Troy! Do you have any idea how expensive those cameras are?” Don yells and walks away from me.
“God, what’s up his ass today?” Maddi says, sidling up to my side. She drops a makeup brush and bends over to get it before giving me her attention. Her hand, as usual—it’s always her first reaction when she’s near me—goes to my belly for a small rub. “Maybe he’s worried about the camera adding ten pounds and you looking like a whale,” she smarts, and I give her a shove.
“Shut up. Stop using my paranoia to mess with me.”
“Incoming,” she says oddly and moves back to her station.
I give Mrs. Cartwright a look before glancing up in my mirror and seeing Mark walking over.
“Hey, Mark,” I say with a smile.
“Dani. Uh, you’re pregnant?” He’s looking at my stomach like it’s about to jump off my body and smother him.
“It would appear so, Mark,” I laugh. “I didn’t get a chance to share the news with you before you left.”
He clears his throat, looking pained.
So weird. “Everything okay?”
“What?” He shakes his head. “Oh, sorry. Just a lot on my mind. Things back home were crazy. That girl I was telling you about? Yeah, not sure if it’s going to work out. She wanted . . . well . . .” He points to my stomach, and it hits me. She wanted kids and he must not have.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mark. Don’t worry. There’s tons of fish in the sea. Hey, how about we grab lunch today? Catch up and all that?”
The whole time I am talking, his eyes keep wandering back to my stomach. Damn, the guy must really have an issue with kids.
“Probably not today. Lots of stuff we need to catch up since we were gone for a while. Hey, did Don talk to you about the story lines we want to try and hit with this round of filming? They would probably jack up the drama, good for ratings and all that.”
What the hell? He knows how I feel about that crap.
When I don’t answer, he looks down at my stomach again before sharing a look with Don and walking away without another word.
So. Freaking. Weird.
I look over at Maddi, and she looks just as confused as I am. She shrugs one shoulder and then turns back to the young girl she’s giving makeup tips to.
I return my attention to my job. It isn’t long before I realize the day is wasting away and I still haven’t eaten a thing.
“Hey, Maddi? I’m going to order some Chinese. You want in?”
I walk around and get orders from a few more people before placing the call. If I don’t eat soon, I’ll most likely take off my arm between clients. I would rather just go out and get it myself, but Dad was clear that I’m not to leave the salon alone—for anything.
I am in the middle of cleaning out my brushes and wiping down the area in front of my mirror when I hear the door ding and I look up to see the blessed food delivery.
“I could give you a kiss. I’m so hungry,” I tell the young Chinese man.
He doesn’t say anything, just roughly shoves the heavy bag in my hand and thrusts the receipt in my hands. I sign it, add the tip, and shove it back. Maybe a little harder than I intended, but damn. What’s it take to get a little friendliness?
“Have a nice day,” I mumble.
Of course I’m ignored and he’s right out the door a second later.
I look around, thinking that maybe I have some sort of “don’t talk to me” vibe since there isn’t anyone near me except for our receptionist, Kat.
“I’ll be in the breakroom if anyone needs me. I think I have about forty-five minutes before my next client gets here.”
“Sure thing, Dani.”
I drop the bag down in the middle of the breakroom and make quick work of pulling off the staples and opening the large, brown bag. Expecting to find our lunch order, I’m momentarily shocked by what I see inside. Then, when what I’m looking at sinks in, I jerk my hands back towards my body.
I feel like I’m drowning. The sound of my blood pumping ferociously through my body is making my ears cloud. My eyes tear up and my vision gets foggy. I must be screaming something fierce, because the next thing I know, the door is slamming open and Sway, along with half of the other stylists, come barreling in.
Sway grabs my shoulders and tries to get me to talk through my hysteria. “Child! Good heavens. What has gotten into you?”
I go slack, and I feel him adjusting his grip to keep my body from falling to the floor.
“Stella? Talk to me, ella-bella!”
I focus on Stella over Sway’s shoulder, and the look of terror on her face does nothing to help my panic. I start to gasp and struggle against Sway. I have to get out of here.
“Someone go next door to CS and get some help.”
I don’t hear anything else after that. My body decides that it’s had enough and just shuts down. My cries silence, my tears dry up, and I just go slack.
My focus stays straight ahead, but I don’t see anything. My mind is too busy focusing on what I saw inside that bag.
The baby doll snapped apart with red letters against the torso.
Their words forever branded in my head.
An image I will never, as long as I live, forget.