Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Then again, maybe it was easier this way. Simpler for me and for Suzie. My feelings for her were too strong, they defied all explanation, and I wasn’t ready for that. It wasn’t as if I could give up my career and live in Jackson’s Ridge for the rest of my life. Could I?
No. My career was in Los Angeles, and if the album was successful, I would be on tour for a year or more. Suzie deserved more than that and she wouldn’t accept the tiny crumbs I could offer her.
It was better this way, for everyone.
The helicopter ride was short, and by the time L.A. came into view, I had pushed down all thoughts of Suzie and Jackson’s Ridge, focused solely on getting into the studio to lay the new tracks for the next album.
That was it.
Nothing else.
No one else.
Suzie
After a quick stop at the market after work, I rushed home to get ready for my date with Gavin—starting with a long hot bath that gave me plenty of time to think about what to say to him. I had never been pregnant before, not even a pregnancy scare, and my insides flipped at just how he would react.
I shoved that thought aside and let the rose-scented water wash over me until my shoulders relaxed and all the tension fled my body. Well, not all the tension; my mind raced with all the planning that needed to be done for a baby, including making room in my home and my life for the newcomer. But by the time I stepped from the tub, mostly refreshed and relaxed, I felt better about things.
With a robe wrapped around me to stave off the unexpected chill, I headed to the kitchen. I decided on something simple for dinner, something Gavin had mentioned was his favorite. Steak and pasta. It was a simple meal for an extraordinary man with simple tastes, and it was so perfectly Gavin. With the steak marinating and the red sauce simmering on the stove, I headed back upstairs to change into something simple yet sexy.
Fifteen minutes before Gavin’s expected arrival, I took one final look at my reflection, appreciating the way the deep red dress hugged my curves and gave me an hourglass figure that I did not possess in real life. I paired the dress with black glasses and fuzzy black slippers, because I didn’t want to look as if I was trying too hard.
Satisfied with my appearance, I made my way back to the kitchen to taste the spicy tomato sauce, drop the pasta, and whip up a quick salad. All the pregnancy books and baby blogs stressed how important it was to eat right, with lots of fresh fruits and vegetables. I could indulge in a little steak and pasta without feeling guilty, because salad was healthy, right?
“Five minutes to go.” I hopped up from the kitchen table and turned on the broiler to heat up for the steaks, figuring we could eat and talk right away. If Gavin didn’t run for the hills, maybe there would be a little bit of naked fun afterwards.
Eight o’clock came and went with no Gavin—and worse, no word from him.
Eight fifteen.
Eight forty-five.
Nine twenty.
Still no Gavin, and I was starting to worry. The simple answer was that he’d gotten so caught up at the studio that he’d ignored all sense of time and place.
At ten o’clock, I was officially worried and, yes, a little angry, and I reached for my phone.
“Hey, you’ve reached Gavin. Leave a message.”
“Gavin, it’s Suzie. I hope you haven’t gone crazy in the studio and overtaxed your voice. Call me.”
No matter how long I stared at the phone, it never lit up. It never rang. Gavin didn’t call or text or show up, and sometime before eleven, I popped the steaks in the oven and ate my weight in spicy pasta, which I regretted before midnight rolled around thanks to an awful case of heartburn.
And heartache. As I stuffed the last few spoonfuls of pasta into my mouth, I made a decision through my tears and my pain, and my inevitable anger. Gavin didn’t need to know about the baby. It wasn’t to punish him as much as it was to protect me and our baby. The fact that the moment he’d been cleared to sing again, he’d blown me off, meant that I had been right all along. We were just a fun little fling, and it was over.
So, no, I wouldn’t tell him about the baby. I would raise this baby on my own, without him, and Gavin could go on living his free-wheeling, world-traveling, rock-star lifestyle.
Without me.
Without us.
With that settled, it was time for me to start planning my future as a single mother. My brief affair with a rock star was over, and while I ate too many double chocolate cookies with white chocolate chips, I browsed online marketplaces for adorable, gender-neutral baby clothes, snagging a dozen onesies at a discount, several pairs of knitted booties from an online craft shop, and a small package of receiving blankets. That was all I was committed to buying in my heartbroken state, but my shopping cart now contained a diaper genie, bottles, pacifiers, a breast pump, a crib and a mobile for said crib.