Love Thief: The Greystone Family: Stolen Hearts

Chapter 31

Chapter

Thirty-One

Ihear on the grapevine Grace and Lauren are back in London. I chuckle to myself, even I knew they would not reign long with Kell and co. The women were always totally deluding themselves. They actually thought they could satisfy them, him. Barking mad. I’ve seen the pictures. Every day a new woman, shiny, shiny. Looks like they’re back to their old ways.

I don”t have much time to consider anyone else’s actions as I’m running between jobs in London. Tommy accompanies me. Well, when I say running, it’s more a cross between a waddle and a stroll. Tommy carries my bags and has been so attentive. Making sure I eat, making me finish work at a reasonable time. I even heard him on the phone to Lori, my assistant, about where and how she books my appointments, making sure I have time between them to get up and move around. He’s always staring at my ankles. Checking for fluid. I’ve even spotted a pregnancy book in the glove box of the car.

When I ask him about it, he just smiles and states, “I need to be prepared for any eventuality, and now you have an extra two for me to take care of. I need to be triple prepared.”

The sun beats down and the city is so hot and humid. I’m shedding layers on a daily basis. I’ll be in my underwear around town soon. Heels have been consigned to the depths of my wardrobe, and I practically give an orgasmic sigh as I push my feet into my comfiest trainers at the start of the day.

“I could go for a jog now,” I joke with Tommy as we head to our next destination. I’m meeting my designer, Carrie, for coffee and a cake. She’s got lots to tell me about her exploits in Italy. She’s been in and out of Europe since the spring. The bonus for me, she has lots more contacts for materials and some amazing art works.

Tommy raises his eyes to the heavens as Carrie screams when she sees me, drawing every eye in the packed coffee shop.

“Marcus fucking Russell, Evie? You, my love, are the darkest of horses.”

Carrie is a few years older than me, in her early forties, but I know she’s harmless when it comes to Kellen. He’s not really her type. And I”m sure she has a huge crush on Tommy.

She looks at him now and states, “Actually, I take that back. He is the darkest of horses.” She smiles coyly at him.

Tommy just shakes his head and sighs out, “I’ll stay towards the back, Evie. Yell if you need me.”

Before I can accept his suggestion, Carrie pipes up, “Don’t you worry, Tommy, I’ll be the first to grab you if we need you. Can I get you something sweet?” She flashes him a brilliant smile and may even bat her eyelashes a bit.

I feel a bit scared for Tommy, and by the looks of Tommy’s face, so is he.

“No, it’s fine. You grab that table, I’ll fetch your drinks. Sit, Evie. You’ve been on the go since ten this morning. Get her to eat, Carrie.”

“You know I like to be in charge, Tommy. I”ll sort her out.”

She then practically picks me up, hugging me again. “I’ve missed you so much. You’ve turned into a jet-setter since you got married and knocked up by a fucking rock star.” She’s shouting again. “Marcus fucking Russell. No wonder James is the most glorious looking kid ever. And now these two.” She puts her hands onto my stomach.

Another one with wandering hands. The onslaught of handsy people. I roll my eyes, but grin. Her enthusiasm for anything is infectious. I love working with her, and going out with her. But she’s always so busy, jetting all over the world, finding gems for people”s interiors.

We settle in the corner of the coffee shop. Carrie likes to be near the windows, but on a hot day, I’ll be baking alive. So I drag her into the cool shadows.

The tables are full around us, people on laptops, reading. Two girls are chatting about a man one of them is involved with, who clearly, by the sound of him, is a total douche.

I love the vibe in this coffee house. They never move people on. You can stay and relax, as long as you don’t take the piss, and buy one coffee for the day. And I totally love the lemon muffins. My citrus craving has taken hold, and I’m sating it with a healthy number of lemon muffins. I’m sure it’s at least four of my ‘five a day’ fruit and veg recommendations.

Tommy is helping me in this endeavour and drops our drinks and muffins (plural) for me on the table. I grin up at him. “Thanks, Tommy. One is just not enough these days.”

He grins and takes a solitary stool near the door and under an air con machine. I’m a bit envious.

Carrie takes a quick sip of her iced chai latte then starts to talk. I learn all about Leo. Tall, dark, handsome—every cliché, she has it at her fingertips. She only just drops her voice to a normal level when she starts in on all the exciting positions he twisted her into.

I see Tommy wincing across the room. Good thing about Carrie, she likes to talk about herself. And I’m glad to give her the room to do so. I definitely don’t want her shouting my story out to the coffee shop crowd. I have to endure a few cringe moments when she won’t let it go about his piercing until I confirm or deny it. She claps her hands in glee when I nod.

“I fucking knew it. I heard loads of stories about him. I’ll bet most of them are true. In the past, obviously. I mean, come on. Who in their right mind passes you up? And carrying his kids? Bella, he will be back in London in the flash of an eye. You look glorious. I know they say pregnant women glow, but Evie Greystone, you are lighting up this dull city.” She’s on a roll.

I get tears in my eyes, and Carrie jumps up and comes around the table to hug me.

Maybe it’s just because her mouth is so close to my ear, or maybe it’s just Carrie, but everyone in the shop hears the plans she’s got for me. “Let’s go shopping. I’ve got a lovely few shops to show you. We can stroll down this high street. I can stop and drink champagne at all my favourite places. They always have a bottle in for me.”

“I’ll bet they do. You spend a fortune with them.” I laugh with her.

“Quality, Evie, always go for quality. Bit like my men. No point moving from one to the next. If you get a good one, make sure you keep him keen. Works every time.”

I grin at the irony of the every time, as she’s advocating fewer men. But I know her. She takes no prisoners. And if you’re not prepared for the full experience, get out of town.

We finish up the muffins, and set off to stroll arm in arm down the high street. Tommy trails behind us, Carrie desperately trying to engage him in some salacious chat.

“Excuse me, but are you Evie Russell?”

We’re just about to enter one of my favourite shops in London, when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn to find two younger women I’m sure were also in the coffee shop.

“She sure is. Do you want her autograph?”

I look helplessly at Carrie, who is like a dog with two tails at us being stopped.

“Yes.” I smile tentatively at them. I’m not quite sure what to expect anymore.

“You look a lot prettier in real life,” one of the girls states. “Those pictures on your friend’s blog don’t do you justice. I’d have a word if I were you.”

I work to keep my smile genuine at the mention of Lauren. Have a word. Ha! I might if I ever actually intended to speak to the woman again. But I don’t, so…

“Is it true you cheated on Marcus Russell?” the other one asks.

“Err,” I look around for Tommy and he moves closer to me. “No, it isn’t,” I say quietly. I hate having to talk about this sort of stuff to strangers.

“So why is your so-called friend saying the babies aren’t his and you cheated on him?”

“Because she’s a fucking liar, and no friend of ours.” Carrie says loudly with gusto. “Don’t believe a word that woman writes. She’s just jealous. She wanted to date Marcus, and he didn’t want her.”

I’m trying to shut Carrie down, nudging her arm and moving us nearer the doorway. But she seems determined to fight my corner.

“Well she lives with him. She posted photographs this morning of him and her at his house in Malibu. So maybe she knows the truth, and you’re just trying to take advantage of a tortured soul. Poor Marcus, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

Her friend looks amazed at her. And tries to pull her arm to shut her up.

“She doesn’t live with him. He threw her out, she’s back in London,” Carrie counters, fully red in the face now. “So if she’s posting that shit, she’s an even bigger fucking liar.”

Tommy moves in to my side, and I see the Lauren disciple curl her lip.

“Oh yes, Lauren said you had security, now you’re saying you’re carrying his babies. Why don’t you come clean and tell the truth. Dragging poor Marcus through the mud, no wonder he’s always out, drowning his sorrows.” She actually looks like she believes everything she’s saying. “Lauren told me in her private group chat that you’ve got a history of seeing other people. She’s getting proof. She’s going to share it with us.” She looks at her friend, who has gone pale.

“Shut up, you’re embarrassing us.” She’s trying her best to tug the friend away.

“I’m not. She ought to be embarrassed, flaunting herself all over town. Everyone will know she’s a liar. Then you’ll have to come clean and give him back everything you’ve taken. All his money, his houses. You expect us to believe you own all that yourself? Lauren told us you never mentioned one word for all the years you were her friend. And all of a sudden you trick poor Marcus and you’ve got loads of property. You’re a joke.”

Tommy steps in front of her as she moves closer to me, her face twisted into an angry snarl. I’m shocked, and saddened. How do people get so worked up over people they don’t even know? Or deserve the emotions she is clearly giving him.

Carrie drags me into the kitchen showroom, and Tommy stops the woman entering behind us. The security from the shop join Tommy on the pavement and they hussle the two women off, one running away, the other being dragged away shouting.

“Well that was unpleasant.” Carrie, the master of the understatement. “What a weirdo. Looks like Lauren has created more mini Laurens in London. Proof, what proof? And what’s all this property shit? You’ve owned them for years. Don’t they even know you? What the hell is that woman chatting?”

I sink into one of the comfy chairs in a kitchen display and strip off my jacket. I feel a bit nauseous. Tommy comes in, takes one look at my pale face, and asks for water and biscuits. Carrie asks for champagne.

I sit and let Carrie wash over me. Let her take me out of this shitty reality, into Carrieville. Eventually I start to laugh. Carrie has the whole showroom in hysterics. But she’s bartered for two new kitchens, and when I tell her I need a new kitchen for John Clayton the DJ, she’s on it.

We spend the best part of the afternoon in there, we’re both in heaven. Even Tommy sighs, saying, “Most people spend hours in clothes shops, you two spend the afternoon in kitchen showrooms.”

I’m calm and feel more like myself. Thank goodness for friends who are on my wavelength. I definitely subscribe to Carrie”s quality theory on that front. Quality over quantity.

We head out to go in search of yet more lemon muffins. We’re arm in arm again as we pass shop after shop, window shopping, and Carrie is talking, again.

I see a blur of colour in my peripheral vision, coming out of a small side street that’s more of an alley, moving fast. I hear Carrie shout and feel Tommy brush past my arm as I’m spun towards Carrie. She pulls me tightly against her body as Tommy grabs and wrestles something or somebody to the floor.

“They’re not his. You will not take him to court. You don’t deserve him, or his money. Lauren’s confirmed she’s got proof you cheated.” It’s the woman from outside the kitchen shop, and she’s screaming at me, struggling with Tommy to get to me, as he’s more or less sitting on her. “He can’t have children, it’s on the internet. You’re a liar.” The racket she’s making is drawing a crowd as Tommy phones Jonno.

“Call the police, Tommy,” I beg him. As my predicament hits me, my legs start to buckle and Carrie is the only thing holding me up.

“I got you. No one touches you on my watch. Take deep breaths, Evie. Breathe with me, my lovely.”

Carrie starts to take bigger breaths, as clearly I’d started panting with lack of oxygen and not noticed. A shop owner comes out and beckons Carrie to fetch me inside as Tommy restrains the screaming woman on the ground.

She’s getting louder, not quieter, as a police car pulls up. She’s spitting bile and hate my way. Clearly seeing me has triggered her. I just want to go home. She doesn’t quieten, so she gets carted off before Jonno can get here.

Oh god, this will be all over the papers, internet, entertainment sites.

Tears are streaming down my face as the realisation hits me—she wanted to push me into the road. She wanted me dead, to get rid of the imposter babies. I sit and I sob into Carrie’s arms.

Tommy comes and picks me up as a car pulls up. He lifts me into it, and we all head to Greystone house.

How could it have got to this? Words are the most dangerous thing on this planet. How could Lauren do it? Incite such hatred, weaponise people. And for what? I’m at a loss. I want my family, I want my husband, but he is not going to come. Will he even know what’s happened? He’s busy in oblivion, can’t get out of the place. I want him to come home. Oh God, how am I going to get over this?

Jonno, Carrie, and Tommy spend the rest of the afternoon calming me down. I just need to go home and chill, don’t dwell on what might have been. She was stopped, don’t go any further. Maybe now Lauren is back in the UK this will all die down. Surely she can’t still want him if he’s kicked them both out. But the voice in my head says, ‘You do. You still want him. So will she.’

I just need to keep a low profile. Yes, that’s easy. I’ll finish up in London and head to Devon. Obscurity here I come.

My plans for a low profile evaporate upon walking in the door to my London dockland apartment, where I find Kasey sitting with his best mate, Carter Maywood—Hollywood superstar, leading man, impeccable dresser—and Carter’s boyfriend, Gary.

“Evie, darlin’,” Carter croons in his very Texan drawl, “this place is superb. Would it be too much trouble if we stayed? Kasey is ravin’ about it. And you.”

I look around, wondering how to make it fit, and what am I going to do with them all? “Of course, Why not? I’ll get a room sorted for you both.”

“Kitten, is it okay? Are you sure?” Kasey asks.

He’s driving me a bit mad with the Kitten, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I get the impression he loves being part of our family, although he’d never say it of course.

I go to find Carol, my housekeeper, and tell her two more are staying.

“Evie, you’re a regular hotel, love. You need to say no,” she tells me.

“I know, but they’re Kasey’s friends Carter Maywood and?—”

“Carter Maywood is staying here?” I think she’s going to faint. “I’ll get him anything he wants. Where is he?” I point towards the living room, and she bustles off at a speed never seen before to help Carter ‘get settled.’

Wandering back at a more leisurely pace, I ask what they want to do for dinner. I vote for a quiet night in.

“Well, I think your husband needs a taste of his own medicine, darlin’,” drawls out Carter, “so we’re goin’ out. Kasey here has told me all about Vincenzo’s, so I’m gonna meet the man, then I’m coming to Devon to meet Marsh.”

“Kasey!” Honestly, the man takes liberties. Inviting people to Devon without asking me, he is a menace, and an exasperating one at that.

“What, Kitten? It’s great publicity for the yard. Marsh will love it. Well, Pinky definitely will,” he says, batting luxurious lashes over his stunning navy blue eyes at me.

I can’t stay annoyed with him for long. He means well, and only has my interests at heart.

“I thought you both wanted to lay low, not crank it up. You’ll not be able to go there unnoticed if it’s packed with celebrities all year round.”

“Oh, Kitten,” says Carter—Oh, God, not him as well—“you must be the only person we know who tries to keep us out of the limelight. Everyone else is trying to shove us in it.”

Before we head out, I’m treated to a full makeover courtesy of Gary, who is a wizard at hair and makeup. Has recently started his own makeover show.

“You have the most amazing eyes, so unusual. Has anyone ever told you that?”

I nod and whisper, “My husband.” My overactive tear ducts are back on form and crank up the pipes.

“Hey, don’t cry. I love your husband. Those two are just jealous of his looks,” he tells me.

I smile, feeling perfectly comfortable around him. He’s funny and easy going, making gentle fun of Kasey and Carter. He picks me out a dress I never would have chosen at twenty five weeks pregnant, but he pairs it with other stuff in my wardrobe, and it looks chic and sexy. “I feel amazing,” I tell him, “thank you so much.”

“Anytime, Kitten. You are so gorgeous. And you look amazing pregnant. You need to show it off. Let other ladies see how wonderful they can look.”

His eyes are appraising me, the honesty shining through, and I know I look amazing. Even better, I feel amazing, confident. But I’m also not sure if I’m being sized up for an appearance on his new show.

I try to keep my smile steady, but I bristle at him calling me Kitten. It’s too familiar. Kasey and I are going to have words.

We hit Vincenzo’s to a storm of paparazzi. Tommy is protecting me, and the boys have not bothered with caps or glasses tonight.

Kasey takes me in his arms, and says, “Own medicine, Kitten, don’t forget.” I smile for the cameras.

Vinny is kissing me all the way to a booth. “You are my favourite for life. My mamma is loving the signatures. I can get Carter’s and Gary’s now.” He goes off smiling at all the diners, and I feel invisible as the waitresses are glued to my friends.

“The usual, Evie?” they ask me. I nod, then back to Kasey they go.

Our night is funny, chatty, and with Carter, very bawdy. My phone is ringing. I take a breath in when I see the name on the screen. Xander.

Pain lances through my chest. Please let Kellen be alright. My mind spins on. Oh God, he’s died of a drug overdose, or choked on his own vomit. Xander wouldn’t ring unless it was urgent.

“Xan, is he alright, is he okay?” No one says anything. “Xander, can you hear me, is Kell okay? Are you okay?” My attempt to play it down fails and all eyes turn to me at the panic in my voice. “Xan, oh my God, it is bad. I’ll come, I’ll get a flight, what is it? What’s wrong?” I’m practically screaming into the phone.

“It’s not Xander, it”s me, Kitten.” His cool voice hits my ears, my nerve endings starting to come alive.

I close my eyes and flop back into my chair. “Are you both okay?” I finally get out.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” His voice sounds husky, low, and my lady parts yawn and start to sizzle. He pauses for a second, then goes on. “Just wondering why you’re out with Kasey Becker and Carter Maywood.”

It’s my turn to be silent for a minute. “You’re kidding me, right?” I ask him. “That’s why you’re phoning me?”

“Is that him?” Kasey’s imperious tone is one of triumph as he snatches the phone out of my hand. His face is smug. “Why don’t you fuck off back with a model, Marcus. What’s up? You”re done with her already? It’s like mid-day there, no one on their knees for you?” Kasey is snarling into the phone.

I hear Marcus snarl back, loudly. “Pass the phone back to Evie and stay the fuck away from my wife.”

“Your wife! Your wife! That”s a joke. If you want to claim her as your wife, start treating her like one.”

He goes to hang up, but I snatch the phone back. He waves his hands at me, mouthing, ‘medicine.’

And I hang up.

I’m in shock. He’s phoned because I’ve popped up on the web, out with these three, and Carter is gay, which the whole world knows.

Kasey is smiling at me. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist you with us. He’s so predictable. Evie, you really need to stop being nice to him.”

The phone is ringing again, FaceTime this time. Oh boy. Kasey looks, smiles and nods. “You look amazing,” he says, and I answer.

“If you’re shouting, Kellen, I won’t pick up again.”

“Why are you out with them?” he complains.

“Next question,” I say, and Carter puts his thumbs up.

“You look beautiful, Kitten. I miss you.” I can see him staring at me, and my anger rises like a phoenix from the ashes.

“Are you high? You know where I am, the whole world knows, and thanks to your bitches, I’m getting hassled. Someone tried to push me over today. Push me. I’m twenty-five weeks pregnant, and they tried to get rid of an imposter’s baby. Sort it, Kellen.” And I hang up. Again.

Kasey is gawking at me.

Carter gives me a high-five. “Our work here is done,” he pouts.

“She never needed help.” I look up to see Jonno standing next to me at the side of the booth.

“Rehab for you again, Jonno, stalker section,” I tell him and he grins. “This is my brother, Jonno Greystone.” I introduce him to Carter and Gary. Kasey, he knows.

He smiles at them and then his face turns stony as he says, “Who tried to push you over? I’ll get Lily in tomorrow, and I’ll speak to Tommy.”

“Tommy stopped her before she got to me fully, but she was going for it. I think I need to get out of London, go to Devon. I’ll come for site visits that I can’t do via Zoom. To be honest, that’s so few and far between, I may as well go. There is nothing so important as these two.” I touch my stomach.

“Can we all come to Devon?” asks Carter, eyeing Jonno’s muscles.

“Yes, if you want, I’ll make the arrangements,” I say in a daze.