A Scandal So Sweet

Eleven

Summer Wallace Dumps Billionaire For Movie Star.

Summer felt sick to her stomach as she sat up straighter in her bed to turn the page of the newspaper.

She’d tried to phone Zach, but he wouldn’t take her calls. She had to tell him about their lost little girl even if the timing was awful and the news killed whatever remaining tenderness he felt for her.

“When will the thirty-one-year-old actress make up her mind…”

There was an awful picture of Zach and Hugh together. Two more shots showed Zach entering the theater with roses, and there was one of him looking furious as he dumped the gorgeous bouquet on his way out.

Why did the headlines always have to mention her age and remind her that her biological clock was ticking? Why did every headline have to remind her that Zach would never marry her? That she would never have his darling black-haired children.

She felt a rivulet of perspiration trickle down her back. Then a hot sensation of dizziness flooded her. Cupping her hands over her mouth, she lurched to her feet and ran to her toilet where she was violently ill.

When she was able to lift her head, she opened the window and gulped in mouthfuls of sweet, fresh air. Then she put the toilet lid down and sat, holding her head in her hands.

The episode of nausea was the third she’d had this week. Since her stomach was often queasy during rehearsals and she’d been so busy, she hadn’t really thought about it. Until now.

“Oh, no,” she whispered as comprehension dawned.

Slowly she arose and stared critically at the reflection of her white face in the mirror.

She was pregnant. Since she’d been pregnant before, she should have recognized the signs. Her breasts were swollen, and her period was late. She had the oddest cravings at the strangest times. Like that other night when she had to have a corn dog and a tomato and a pickle and nothing else would do. She felt lethargic, different.

Great timing. Just like last time.

Zach had left her. And she hadn’t even told him about their little girl yet. He wouldn’t be happy to learn the truth about their past, nor would he be overjoyed that they were going to have another child.

Then there was the not-insignificant detail that she was starring in a play that was going to open in less than three weeks. One where her character was not pregnant and the director and cast were on the verge of a collective nervous breakdown if things didn’t start coming together soon.

Zach had been swimming laps in his pool behind Thibodeaux House for an hour, so it was time to get out.

He wanted to forget Summer, to go on with his life. So, he’d ignored her calls; ignored the pain he felt at her loss.

He would get through this. He would. Not that it would be easy.

As he toweled off, he heard furious shouts and scuffling out front.

At first he thought it was the press and paid no attention. They’d been stalking him all week, ever since they’d caught him with Jones the day of the interview. Then he recognized the hateful voice.

“Let me through, damn it,” Thurman Wallace yelled at Zach’s security team. “I’ve got something to say to Torr, and I won’t go until I say it.”

Pulling on a shirt without bothering to button it, Zach strode to the front of the house. “Let him in,” he said.

When Wallace stepped through the gate, Zach smelled the hot stench of liquor on the man’s breath.

“Say your piece and leave, Wallace.”

“You think you’re something, don’t you, you arrogant you-know-what, coming back here, to my town, getting everyone on your side because you’re rich… Taking up with Summer again… Using her like a…”

“Watch your language. Say your piece. Then get the hell off my property.”

“It wasn’t all me, wanting to bring those charges. You think she wanted you back then, but she didn’t. She thought you were trash, same as I did.”

“Shut up about her.”

“If she’d cared for you, why did she kill your baby?”

“What the hell did you say?”

“You got her pregnant. I had to send her to New Orleans before she started to show so nobody around here would know about her and ruin my good name.”

“I don’t believe you! Get out of here before I throw you out!”

When Wallace didn’t move, Zach started toward him. “Get out of here now, or you’ll be sorry!”

Wallace took one look at Zach and ran for his life.

Zach sank to his knees and thought about a younger Summer, pregnant and alone in New Orleans. Whatever she’d done, he’d never believe she’d deliberately killed their baby. But she hadn’t told him about it, had she? So, how could he trust her?

All doubt that he had made the right decision in leaving her vanished.

The sudden certainty hurt.

God, how it hurt.

Billionaire And Actress Had Secret Baby!

The ugly headline screamed at Summer, shattering her heart into a million tiny pieces.

Gram had warned her about the awful story that Thurman had sold to the tabloids. In spite of the warning, Summer was still shaking as she laid down a wad of cash for all the newspapers on the rack at the tiny grocery store a block from her apartment.

Folding them, she plunged them into her bag, put her sunglasses back on and ran outside where she dumped them in the first trash bin she saw. It was a hollow gesture since there were hundreds of thousands on similar racks all over the country. Everybody would see them when they were in the check-out lines.

How could Thurman be so filled with hate? How could he have sold such a personally heartbreaking story? She felt brokenhearted, betrayed and mortified at the same time. But most of all she hurt for Zach. This was no way for him to discover the truth.

Until now, she’d held on to a fragile hope that Zach might be missing her as much as she missed him, and that given time, he would change his mind and come back to her.

Thurman’s story extinguished all such hope.

She felt like weeping, not just for herself, but for the baby she was carrying.

Then a reporter sprang out of nowhere and called her name. When she turned, he took her picture.

“Gram, I’ve got to talk to Zach.”

A week had passed since Thurman’s story had hit the stands. Zach was still refusing to take her calls. His secretary was impatient whenever Summer called his office and left a message. So she’d called Gram, hoping for her help.

“But I thought that he and you…that it was…over,” Gram said.

“It is,” Summer said softly. “I’ve called him so many times, and he won’t talk to me. But that’s not the worst. Gram, I’m pregnant. I don’t know how it happened…because we were always careful.”

“It was meant to be,” Gram said in her know-it-all way.

“No,” Summer replied, knowing Gram couldn’t be right. “What this means is that in spite of everything that’s wrong between us, I’ve got to talk to him.”

“Nick told Moxie Brown, who told Sammy, who told me that Zach has fired the contractor he’d hired to remodel that old Thibodeaux place and has put it up for sale. Nick said that big gambling boat of his is arriving at the end of the week. So, Zach’s coming to town to inspect it.”

Summer let out a breath. Finally, she’d caught a break. Once the play opened, she’d be doing eight shows a week. It would be very difficult for her to take time off. Paolo would pitch a fit, but maybe she could sneak in an overnight trip home.

She couldn’t make the same mistake she’d made the first time they’d broken up, when he’d put up roadblocks and she’d given up on telling Zach the truth about their little girl.

She had to see him one last time-to tell him face-to-face about the baby they’d lost and this precious baby that she was carrying.

Their baby.

Summer barely glanced at the chain-link fence covered with No Trespassing notices meant to keep out the press. And her. Nor did she take note of the large sign over the gate that blared in big red letters, No Admittance. Employees Only.

Hunched over, with a pink pashmina covering her hair, Summer rushed past a uniformed man.

“Ma’am, you can’t go in there. Ma’am…”

Running now on her ice-pick heels, Summer ignored the burly individual in the hard hat and brown uniform as she sped toward the dock where Zach’s magnificent floating gambling palace was now secured.

“Ma’am!”

What luck! There he was.

Every muscle in her body tensed. Then she forced herself to let out a breath.

Holding a clipboard and pen, Zach stood in the middle of a dozen men. His stance, with long legs spread slightly apart, reminded her of a large cat who looked relaxed but was coiled to spring. His face was hard, and he was talking fast. The other men, their heads cocked toward him, held clipboards and pens, too. Those standing beside him were frowning in frustration as they wrote furiously in an effort to keep up.

“Zach,” she cried, pink heels clattering as she ran farther out onto the dock.

She wore a soft pink dress. The bodice clung and its skirt swirled around her hips. Once he’d accused her of dressing to be desirable. Well, today she’d given it her best shot. She’d gone shopping and had deliberately picked a sexy dress for this confrontation.

All the men stopped talking at once. She let her pashmina slide to her shoulders.

Jaws fell. Zach spun, then hissed in a breath at the sight of her. Even though his eyes went icy and hard, she’d seen the split-second spark of attraction her appearance had caused. She’d caught him off guard in front of his men, exposed his vulnerability, and she knew he hated that.

Grief that he was hers no longer, that she couldn’t run into his arms, slashed through her like a knife.

He didn’t look as sure or confident as he had the last time she’d seen him. His face was thinner; his eyes shadowed.

“Get her out of here,” he ordered, his frigid voice radiating antagonism.

“Sorry, Mr. Torr. Ma’am, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” the burly man said behind her.

She had only seconds before she’d be forced to go.

“Zach,” she cried. “I’ve got to talk to you.”

“Too bad. I’m in a meeting.” Slamming on a pair of dark glasses, he turned away.

The burly man grabbed her arm and began to tug her gently in the direction of the exit. “Please, ma’am…”

Frantic, she struggled to free herself. “Zach… You’ve got to listen to me.”

The man’s grip hardened. “Come on, ma’am.”

“Zach! Please!”

His face tight and determined, Zach tapped his pen against his clipboard and continued to ignore her.

She didn’t want to tell him like this-not when he was surrounded by other people. She didn’t. But what were her choices?

“Zach, I’m pregnant!”

Zach had selected the elegant office onboard his ship as a place where they could be alone, but the space felt cramped and airless to Summer as Zach subjected her to a thorough, intimate appraisal. Never had she found his arresting face more handsome, but when she searched its hard, angular planes for a trace of sympathy, she found none.

His eyes were so intense and cold, they made her feel almost faint with grief.

“Zach…” For a second, everything in her vision darkened except his face, which blurred in swirling pinpricks of light.

His hard arms reached for her, steadied her, led her to a chair, where she gulped in a sweet breath of air.

“Are you okay?” he demanded.

“I-I’m fine.”

He stood over her, watching her carefully to make sure.

“Zach, I didn’t want to tell you the news like that…in front of your men…when you were so furious. But I had to tell you face-to-face. I didn’t want to leave a message with your secretary, or for some reporter to accost you with questions because I was having our child.”

“Oh, really? You didn’t bother to tell me the last time you were pregnant. Are you eager to share this child with me since I’ve got money now? And when do you intend to tell the press, so as to heighten your box-office draw? Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t bring the hounds with you today.”

Again Zach’s eyes had become emotionless. She felt as if her heart were freezing and dying. It was as if, instead of her, he saw some cruel, cunning stranger.

She took a deep breath. “No… Why would I… You can’t, you can’t believe I’m that low.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I want to protect our baby. And I have my own income, I’ll have you know. So, money is the last thing I need from you.”

“I’ll set up an account and do what’s necessary. But the less I see or hear from you, the better. In the future, my lawyers will talk to your lawyers. I’ll want to see our child rather frequently, I’m afraid. As you know, I’m sorely lacking in close family. And as I distrust the mother, I’ll need to be as big an influence in his life as possible if he’s to have a fighting chance. And I repeat, I will see to it that these matters are arranged so that we meet as infrequently as possible.”

“I-I know how you must feel…finding out the way you did…about our first baby. You must think me truly awful…”

“No! You don’t know how I feel! You couldn’t possibly imagine.”

For a moment his hard face was expressionless. Then he shook his head. “You don’t understand me at all.”

“I know I didn’t stand up for you the way you wanted me to when my stepfather brought charges against you. You thought I went along with him, but I didn’t. I loved you. I still do.”

“Don’t use that four-letter word. You say it too easily. All it’s ever been for me is a one-way ticket to hell.”

“Zach, I was sixteen…pregnant…terrified…of him and of the accusations, of all the ugliness. I was so confused. Hysterical, really.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he said in a weary, defeated tone.

But it did matter to her, fiercely. She’d thought she’d learned to live with her regrets, then he’d come back into her life and made her love him again. Being with him right now, when he was so distant, knowing that he was shutting her out forever, made her want to confess everything, to finally share all the regrets she’d carried alone for so long.

She’d organized a funeral for their first baby, had attended it by herself in the rain. Her mother, who would have come, had been too ill to leave Bonne Terre. Gram had been caring for Summer’s mother, and Tuck had been too young to be of any comfort. Summer had stayed in the cemetery until she’d been drenched, until the last clod of dirt had been thrown, until a compassionate grave digger had plucked a single white rose from the funeral wreath she’d bought and handed the dripping blossom to her.

“Press this in that Bible you be carrin’, cher. And go home. You can’t do any good here. The little one, she’s in heaven now.”

Summer had placed angels on the grave.

Somehow she swallowed her tears when she came back to the present. “I went to Houston when I was nearly five months along. I tried to talk to you, to find you, but you wouldn’t see me.”

“Because I knew you were manipulating me.”

“But I tried to tell you about the baby. I really tried.”

“Not hard enough apparently. You could have told somebody else… My uncle, maybe. He would have gotten the message to me. But you didn’t.”

“I was out of money. I wasn’t feeling so well. I-I thought it was no use, so I went back to New Orleans. I-I lost the baby the next week. I was all alone. I wanted you so desperately. I never wanted you with me more.”

A muscle in his carved cheek jerked savagely, but when he spoke, his voice was low, contemptuous.

“You didn’t do anything deliberate to bring about that unhappy event, did you?”

“What?” His words hit her like a blow. Once again his face swirled in blackness. If she’d been standing, she would have fallen. Only with the greatest effort did she manage to catch her breath.

“No.” The single word was a prayer asking him to believe her. The single tear that traced down her cheek spoke the truth.

Not that he could see the truth, blinded as he was by his own fury and sense of betrayal.

“You damn sure know how to deliver a line.” His low voice was hoarse. “I’ll give you that. You need to remember that little trick for the stage, sweetheart. It was very effective.”

“Okay. I understand,” she whispered. “You’ll never trust me again. Or forgive me.”

“You’ve got that right. The sooner we finish this conversation, the sooner we can get on with our separate lives. I said I’d help you with the baby, and I will. You don’t look well. I want you to take better care of yourself this time. Cut back on your schedule. You can’t possibly do eight shows a week. I’ll pay for the best doctors…anything you need. And I want to be there when you deliver. Not for your sake, but for the baby’s.”

She nodded, feeling crushed at his efficient tone.

“I love you,” she murmured. “I’ll always love you.”

“Then I’m sorry for you because it’s over between us. I consider myself a stupid fool for getting involved with you again. Usually I’m smart enough to learn from my mistakes. Nick tried to warn me you were nuclear. He was right.”

“I’m so sorry I’ve caused you so much pain…”

“Sorry never cuts it, does it?”

Ravaged, she stood up. Then turning from him, she fled.

Outside, the sunlight in the trees was as dull as old pewter, and she was deaf to her favorite song playing on her car radio.

She didn’t want to go back to New York and work onstage, work with people. She wanted to curl up somewhere in a dark room and cry.

Then she remembered Gram’s tin of chocolate-chip cookies on the shelf above her fridge. She would go back to Gram’s and confide in her. Her grandmother would take Summer in her arms as she had after Summer had lost Zach, her mother and her little baby girl, and, for a brief spell, she’d feel better. Then she’d stuff herself on her grandmother’s cookies until she fell asleep.

Slowly, she’d gather enough courage to go through the motions of living. She’d pack her suitcase and set her alarm. Tomorrow she’d dress and drive to the airport. Then she’d return to her lonely apartment and get back in her old routine and try to forget Zach all over again.

It wouldn’t be possible, but she’d try just the same.

The memory of her soft, pale face with those unshed tears tore at him.

“I can’t do this. Take over for me,” Zach growled as he slammed his clipboard down on a table inside the casino.

Roberto and his men watched silently as Zach stalked past them, the rows of slot machines and then the gaming tables. Outside, the air was thick and oppressive with the scent of rain. He looked up and saw threatening black clouds moving in fast. A fierce gust ripped across the bayou.

Perfect weather, he thought, as the first raindrop pelted him.

No sooner had he slammed the door of his Mercedes, started the engine and roared out of the parking lot, than it started pouring. Not that the rain kept him from whipping violently across the narrow bridge and skidding onto the main road. A truck honked wildly. Brakes squealed as it surrendered right-of-way.

Zach took his foot off the accelerator. No use killing some innocent motorist. Summer damn sure wasn’t worth it.

It was going to take a long time for his love, or rather the illusion of who he’d believed she was, to die again.

Maybe forever.

She’d looked so damn pretty in that soft pink dress that had clung to her slim body, and so desperately forlorn with those damp blue eyes that had shed that single spectacular tear at exactly the right moment. She’d shredded his heart all over again. It would probably thrill her to know she’d nearly had him believing what he saw and felt instead of what he knew to be true.

His gut had clenched, and his heart had thudded violently. He’d wanted to grab her, pull her close, soothe and console her, kiss that tearstained cheek and those beautiful, pouting lips…just one last time. He’d wanted it so much he’d almost lost control.

Then he’d remembered she was an actress, who’d dressed to entice him, who’d played her role perfectly despite her vows never to act when she was with him.

He remembered all her lies of omission about the baby. What part of their relationship had ever been true? What was he to her? Another circus act in the three-ring show she put on for her adoring fans? Did she need a man in her life to complete the picture of her as America’s number-one sweetheart? Acting was a highly competitive career. What sin wouldn’t she commit to stay on top?

He thought of all the magazine-cover stories he’d seen about actresses with their adoring babies and husbands. Were any of those heartwarming stories truthful? Weren’t they all just fodder for fools like him, who, deep down, wanted to believe the dream?

Had anything she’d said today been real?

Whether it was or not, she’d damn sure shattered his heart and sent him to hell and back all over again.