Bombshell (Hollywood A-List #1)(89)

“I think it’s best if I stay behind.”

“With Nicole?”

“You should take her.”

“I’m working all day.”

“Your mother will go. She ag—”

“What the f*ck is going on?”

This was bad. Very bad. I was bailing, and I was the worst kind of coward. But as perfect and beautiful as he was, as much as I admired what he’d gone through in life to get where he was, I couldn’t see past the lies.

“You denied her. It’s just going to eat at me. And you know what? Keep it a secret. Never tell her. Let Paula put it in the papers now before Nicole can understand it, then never mention it again. By the time she finds out, she’ll love you so much.”

He straightened his hand into a plane and thrust it in my direction.

“This is bullshit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You do this now? We got one foot on a plane and this is what you come up with?”

The world got quiet, and he was at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Nothing existed but the hard words between us.

“Just take her,” I growled. “She’ll be fine. She’ll get used to it without me. I’m not necessary here—”

“No, you take her. The two of you wait for me. I’m sorry, teacup. You’re not turning your back on us. Maybe she’ll be all right without you, but I won’t. We’re smack-dab in the middle of something good, and I’m not gonna let you go so easy. I f*cked up too much already. I f*cked up when I denied her the first time, and I f*cked up not telling you my trouble. I f*cked up taking your phone. I f*cked up trying to hide the newspapers. I’m going to f*ck up again. I know I am. And I’m asking you to stay with me and let me f*ck up. Let me try again and again. There’s no one else I want to f*ck up with. There’s no one else I want to apologize to. There’s no one else I want to be better for. It’s you. I’m going to be better for you, and if you leave I’m afraid I’ll never have a reason to stop being a f*ckup.”

“Nicole has to be your reason to stop.”

“She is, I just . . .” Hands out, as if handing me an explanation. “I’m afraid. With her I’m afraid I’m going to screw up. I’m not afraid with you. I can do it with you. You make it possible.”

In his outstretched hands was my power. I could accept it or deny it. I could trust him and myself. Trust that I had the power to build something with him that I’d always wanted. A family of my own.

Or I could do what I’d always done. Run from the difficulty. The vulnerability and discomfort and stay on the outside looking in. I was safe there, but if I was being honest with myself, I was also miserable.

“I know I’m a shithead,” he said. “But this shithead loves you.”

He did. He loved me.

I had a physical reaction. My heart expanded to fit the room. It grew to fit a feeling of worthiness and belonging. He loved me and he knew it.

His love changed nothing. I loved him and I knew it, but I wouldn’t be able to fit myself into his life or understand the lies he’d told. And my heart shrunk back down, folding into itself like a bird tucking its wings in after a short flight.

“I love you,” I said. I didn’t have to say it. I shouldn’t have, because it was irrelevant. “But I don’t think that’s enough.”

He was still in the tunnel. The rest of the world, the airport, the VIP lounge had fallen away. So when Erma’s voice cut through the tunnel, I was startled.

“Where’s Nicole?” she asked.

Brad’s attention snapped away to his mother, then around the room.

“What do you mean?”

“She was right here looking at you. Then I went to put the napkin in the garbage and—”

“Shit.” He scanned the room from window to window, and I did too, checking behind the buffet, around the donuts, at the floor where a trail of crumbs and sprinkles ended a foot away from where Brad and I had been standing.

“Not here,” I said.

“Nicole!” he called. Everyone looked, but no little girl came.

“They have to close the lounge,” I said, pointing to the concierge. “Now.”

Brad ran to him. I pointed to Erma. “Check the bathrooms.”

“Okay.” She went to the bathrooms, and I went through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

She was probably fine.

But Brad was famous and wealthy. He was the target of crazy people for simply existing. His security team didn’t come to Arkansas with us because he felt safe, but that didn’t mean word of his location didn’t get out. The right opportunity with the wrong person nearby could spell disaster.

“Did a little girl come through here?” I shouted to the kitchen staff. The banging of pots and shouting of staff ground to a halt. I didn’t wait for an answer. They’d let me know if they saw anything. I scanned the floor, paced to the back exit. It was open. There were elevators. A stairway with an alarm. Huge hampers with linens.

She could be in a hamper or two stories below. Shit shit shit . . .

I upturned the hamper. It was too light to have a little girl under the tablecloths, but I checked anyway.

“Hey!” A male voice from down the hall.

I stood and looked. Security.