Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
EMMA
T he cab ride back to my hotel took longer than I’d expected. I was used to New York traffic, but it had nothing on Los Angeles.
My thoughts consumed me as I replayed every minute detail from seeing Charlie again.
It had not gone to plan.
The door clicked shut on my hotel room and I almost sagged against it in relief. The room screamed ‘generic hotel chic’ — all sleek lines and muted colours, about as personal as the ER room they’d put me in in New York. Nothing like the organised chaos of my New York apartment, with its overflowing bookshelves and the ever-present scent of fresh flowers. I missed my space. I could have really done with my safe haven right then.
I tossed my purse onto the bed, watching it bounce slightly on the too-firm mattress before I collapsed onto the edge of it. My hand unconsciously drifted to my stomach, a habit I’d developed scarily fast.
Was it aware of anything yet? Could it sense my stress? Did it know how close it came to not having a father? If I were aware of something like that before I’d even experienced the world, I’d have been upset.
“I know things are a bit crazy right now,” I whispered, feeling slightly foolish but pushing through. “But I’m going to figure this out, okay?” Maybe this talking thing wasn’t so bad after all. “It’ll all work out for the best in the end.”
In the meantime, I needed to do something with my racing thoughts.
How did everything spiral so quickly? A week ago, I was just an insanely overworked wedding planner. Now? Now I was… what exactly? Soon-to-be roommate of a Hollywood agent who probably thought I was trying to pull a fast one on him but was too nice to say anything?
The shrill ring of my phone cut through my pity party, making me jump. I contemplated rejecting it, desperately needing a minute to breathe without honking cars surrounding me. Then I read the caller ID and decided that being alone with my overactive imagination was the last thing I needed.
“Hey,” I answered, aiming for nonchalant and landing somewhere between mildly hysterical and one step away from a full-blown meltdown.
“Emma! Finally! I’ve been on pins and needles here. How did it go? What happened? Did you tell him? What did he say? Are you okay? Do I need to hop on a plane and come kick his ass?”
Lila’s rapid-fire questions hit me like a welcome tidal wave, washing away some of the loneliness that had been creeping in. Her familiar voice engulfed me, grounding me.
“Whoa, slow down, Speedy Gonzales.” A shaky laugh escaped me, but I shot to my feet, unable to stay still and talk about the mess my life had become in less than a week. “One question at a time. My brain can only just keep up with my own thoughts right now, let alone your interrogation.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “I’m just worried about you, Em. You’ve been radio silent since you left, and I’ve been imagining all sorts of scenarios. Most of them end with me having to dispose of a body, by the way.” She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “I’ve got a guy. If you need one, that is.”
I snorted. “As much as I appreciate your willingness to commit murder on my behalf, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. At least... not yet.”
“Ooh, ominous. What happened?”
I took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to even begin. How do you sum up a day that felt like it lasted a lifetime? “Well, I told him. About the baby, I mean.”
“And? How did he take it? On a scale of ‘fainting Victorian lady’ to ‘cool as a cucumber’, where did he land?”
“Somewhere between ‘deer in headlights’ and ‘man who just realised he left the stove on’,” I said, the look on Charlie’s face when I’d dropped the bombshell fresh in my mind. “For a minute there, I thought he might actually faint. Or throw up. Or both.”
“Men,” Lila scoffed, her eye roll practically audible through the phone. “Always so dramatic. You’d think we were telling them we’re growing a second head, not a baby.”
“Says the woman who threatened bodily harm not two minutes ago.”
“Hey, that’s different. I’m being protective, not dramatic. There’s a very important distinction.”
I laughed, some of the tension in my shoulders easing.
“So, what happened after the initial shock wore off?” Her tone shifted from playful to serious. “Did he step up? Please tell me he stepped up. Because if he didn’t, I wasn’t kidding about that disposal guy.”
“He did.” I sank into the armchair by the window, my legs too weak to hold me up. “Though I’m still shocked he didn’t ask for a paternity test. For all he knows, I could be anyone, pretending to be something I’m not.”
“Oh, honey.” Lila sighed, her tone softening. “Is that what you’re worried about? That he thinks you’re trying to trap him?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
“Maybe? I don’t know.”
“Men are idiots sometimes. Especially when they’re caught off guard.”
“Maybe.” I couldn’t keep the doubt out of my tone. I squeezed the throw cushion.
“Emma Jane Sullivan,” she said, her tone stern and reminiscent of my third-grade teacher when she caught me doodling wedding dresses instead of paying attention to maths. “I’ve known you for years, and I can say with absolute certainty that you are the least opportunistic person I know. You’re practically a saint.”
“You would say that.” I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t be my best friend if I were a snake.”
“You’re right. I have good taste in people, and you’re good people.”
I grunted at her confidence.
“My point is anyone who spends more than five minutes with you knows you’re not capable of that kind of deception. You can barely lie about liking someone’s ugly bridesmaid dresses without breaking out in hives. If Charlie can’t see that, then he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you or this baby. Hell, he doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you.”
Her words wrapped around me like a warm blanket. But the nagging voice in the back of my mind refused to be silenced completely. “But what if?—”
“Enough with the what-ifs.”
My mouth snapped shut at a tone I’d only ever heard her use with service providers who dragged their feet.
“Now, tell me what really happened. Is he going to help, or do I need to book a flight and bring my baseball bat?”
I stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling and sighed. The popcorn texture mocked me, each little bump a reminder of how far I was from home.
“He is. He also insisted I move in with him.”
“Good. Maybe he’s a decent guy after all. Colour me surprised. I was all ready to hate this guy, and now he’s being all responsible and shit. I don’t know what to do with my murder energy now.”
It took me a second to realise she’d pulled a one-eighty on me.
Then I laughed. It didn’t last long, I had too many fears crowding in and shouting for attention.
“I barely know him. What if we end up hating each other? What if he resents me for turning his life upside down? What if he snores, or leaves the toilet seat up, or has a secret collection of creepy clown dolls? How am I meant to raise a baby with a total stranger?”
“Hey, hey. One step at a time, okay?” She spoke slowly, almost like you would when trying not to spook a wild animal that could easily rip out your throat. “Right now, you need a place to stay that isn’t going to bankrupt you, and he’s offering. Take the win, Em. We can worry about the creepy clown dolls later.”
I shuddered, even knowing she was joking. Nobody liked clowns.
“I’ve got your back.”
“How are they doing?” I asked, guilt eating at me for not checking in sooner. Some perfectionist I was, letting the pregnancy brain make me forget about my clients. “The brides, I mean. Are they okay with the changes? Has anyone threatened to leave scathing Yelp reviews?”
“They’re fine.” Her voice crackled through the phone, warm with amusement. “Everyone bought the story about you having to go to Florida to look after your sick aunt. They were all very understanding and so far, no one’s talking about replacing you.”
“My aunt?” I raised an eyebrow, even though she couldn’t see me.
I almost laughed. The last thing Aunt Ginny would want was me putting a kink in her routine.
“I’m sure she’d love to know she’s being used as a cover story.”
“Anyway, everything is on track and you don’t need to worry about anything.”
“Thanks, Lila.” My body sagged into the mattress, the tension seeping from me for the first time since I woke up to the news a week ago. “Words can’t express how grateful I am for your help.”
“Anytime, babe. That’s what I’m here for — bad jokes and unwavering support.”
We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, and I found myself wishing she had come with me. I could have used one of her bone-crushing hugs right about now.
“So,” Lila said after a beat, her tone turning serious again. “Back to Charlie. What’s the plan? When are you moving in? And more importantly, how fancy is his place? I need details, woman. Paint me a picture of this Hollywood hotshot’s bachelor pad.”
“Tomorrow, I guess.” I sighed, the reality of my situation crashing back down on me. “He said he’d have the guest room ready for me. As for how fancy it is, I have no idea. Knowing my luck, it’ll be some ultra-modern monstrosity with more glass than walls and furniture that looks pretty but is impossible to actually sit on.”
Now that I’d uttered the words, I regretted it. A place like that would be a nightmare to child-proof and I’d just jinxed myself with the universe. Shit.
“Wow, he’s not wasting any time, is he?” A hint of approval crept into her voice. “That’s a good sign. It means he’s taking this seriously. He’s not just all talk.”
“Yeah, I guess, but what if he’s only doing this out of obligation? What if he doesn’t really want this baby, or me, in his life?”
“Is that what you’re really worried about? That you’re forcing yourself into his life?”
I nodded, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t see me. “It’s just... he suggested we keep things platonic.”
“Maybe he’s trying to be respectful? I mean, think about it. You show up out of the blue, tell him you’re pregnant, and that you need help. Maybe he’s trying to show you that he’s not expecting anything in return for his help. That he’s not some creep who’s going to take advantage of the situation.”
I blinked, considering this possibility.
“Or maybe,” she continued, her words coming in a rush as she warmed to the idea, “he’s as scared as you are. Maybe he’s worried about screwing things up, moving too fast. I mean, you guys are kind of doing this whole relationship thing backwards, aren’t you? Baby first, then living together, then... who knows?”
Lila had a point.
“But what if?—”
“No more what-ifs,” Lila cut me off. “You’re driving yourself crazy with all these hypotheticals, Em. The only way you’re going to know for sure what Charlie’s thinking is to talk to him. Use your words, like we taught the flower girls at the Patterson wedding.”
I groaned, throwing an arm over my eyes. “I know, I know. You’re right. It’s just... I’m terrified. Like really terrified. What if I’m making a huge mistake? What if this all blows up in my face?”
“Stop. I can play this game too. What if you’re not? What if this is the start of something amazing? What if Charlie turns out to be the best thing that ever happened to you? What if this baby is the beginning of your own fairytale?” She took a deep breath and her silence spoke volumes, screaming at me to calm my jets. “You’ll never know if you don’t give it a chance.”
I sighed, knowing she was right.
“I’ll try.”
The conviction in my voice was a lie. My mind was still racing with all the possibilities, all the things that could go wrong. What if Charlie’s house was a bachelor pad nightmare? What if he expected me to be some 1950s housewife? What if?—
“Good, but I’m not buying it. You’re still spiralling.” She chuckled, the sound frustrated but in a loving way. “You’re going to be fine. It’s all going to work out, and if it doesn’t, you have a best friend with connections who will make sure it’s all fine.”
“I know. Thank you, Lila. Really.”
“Anytime, babe. Now go get some sleep. And call me tomorrow after you’ve moved in, okay? I want all the details about Charlie’s place. I bet it’s disgustingly luxurious. Like, ‘gold-plated toilet paper holder’ levels of extra.”
I hoped not. Imagine raising a baby in that.
“I will. I’ll give you the full MTV Cribs tour rundown.”
“You better. Night, Em. Love you, you neurotic mess.”
“Love you too, you bossy weirdo.”
I dropped the phone on the bed and hauled myself back to my feet. I wandered to the window, looking out at the unfamiliar Los Angeles street. The city sprawled out before me, so different from the New York cityscape I was used to. It was beautiful, in its own way. Different, but not necessarily bad.
Like my life.
Maybe different didn’t have to mean disaster. Maybe it could mean opportunity.