An Illicit Pursuit (20 page)

“Hey, are you upset?” I yank my hand free and
examine Adam’s face for a hint of anger. His face is hard, his eyes
flaming fire, and I feel a little part of me dancing with
satisfaction at his jealousy fit. “He was just kidding,” I say
softly.

“Yeah, Adam,” Jack says, walking toward us.
“Why would I want to steal your girl away?”

Your girl?
Everyone talks as if we’re
together already.

“Kids, no fighting!” Grace yells.

I raise my hand to grab Adam’s and fall into
step beside him, forgiving his anger in a heartbeat.

“Have fun,” the rest of the Garnetts call
behind us.

Adam opens the door of his BMW and ushers me
in. His eyes lock on mine as he hurries around the car, rendering
me so still that I can’t even buckle up. He’s in full on flirting
mode, and it’s apparent he won’t end the night without at least
getting a kiss from me. Since the abortion, any feeling of
sexuality has escaped me, with no sign of it coming back. I feel
tender and sore between my legs and worse in my heart.

As much as he may try, he won’t be getting
much from me for some unforeseeable time.

Taking off his jacket, he places it in the
backseat then settles in the driver’s seat, glancing at me every
couple of seconds. I can’t help but smile at his
over-attention.

“It’s nice to see you smile again,” he says.
“I’ve been worried about you. You haven’t looked your normal self
since that injury. I’m glad your hips are better now.” The way he
stresses the word ‘hips’ sounds, as if he’s meant something else.
He must have been sensing my problem is something entirely
different.

“It’s nice to be able to smile again.” I curl
my lips wider for a bigger grin. “It’s all thanks to you and your
family.” Which is true. I would be a lost cause if I had to go
through the breakup with Zach and then the abortion without them.
Simply being there, distracting me would have been enough, but each
of them, even Eleanor, has been generous with their attention and
care of me. Not to mention Adam’s superhuman qualities when it
comes to pampering.

He turns on the engine, pulls out of the
garage, and eases into the street. I’d probably have sex with him
tonight if the abortion incident hadn’t happened. I have little to
no doubt that he’s a hurricane in bed, attentive, and giving, but
ruthless, and selfish, too. A dangerous combination.

I watch his large hands, dark and veined,
while they maneuver the steering wheel, and imagine them rubbing my
breasts with the same skilled caress.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna watch that crappy
movie again,” he jokes.

“Hey, thanks to that crappy movie, I’ve got
my contract.”

“Thanks to your part, the movie will break
the box-office records.”

I roll my eyes, unable to stop grinning. Oh,
well, maybe I should just accept the truth as it is about the
movie. I didn’t write the script or directed the movie. I did my
part as best as I could, so I shouldn’t take the possible low
ratings of the movie personally. Particularly now that I have my
contract.

Miranda managed to delay the whole
album-recording schedule for two weeks so I could heal from the
abortion. Which I think is super nice of her. She’ll be at the
premiere party, too, and I’m pretty sure she’ll swoon over Adam.
Probably, a lot of other women will. I’ll have to make sure to not
leave him alone even for a minute throughout the night.

“Why did you get so hard at Jack’s comment?
He was clearly joking,” I ask, trying to get a reassurance from him
about my insecurities of losing him tonight.

“I know he wasn’t being serious. The other
day I told him about the way that jerk of a producer who wanted to
get you under contract was looking at you. Since then Jack has been
trying to stir me up with stupid remarks about you.”

I scowl. “Which producer was looking at me
and how?”

“Harvey Duke. Haven’t you noticed? Well, he
was eye-groping your…” He doesn’t say the last word, instead
motions his eyes toward my chest.

“Most definitely not.” I cross my arms over
my chest to cover my cleavage, which suddenly seems too
exposed.

“Hey, I know pretty girls like you attract
all kinds of jerks, but I am who I am. I flip out easily when it
comes to the girl I like.”

From the feel of the heat on my cheeks, my
face must be the color of a ripe tomato. I can imagine some girls
feeling too much under pressure at the sight of the green-eyed
monster, but I never mind a healthy dose of jealousy. But, what
isn’t clear to me is, being an overly attractive and otherwise very
confident man, how he can feel insecure about other men around
me.

I can’t work up the courage to speak. Yes,
he’s said it now at least a hundred times that he likes me, and I’m
willing to give it a try, too. But I don’t want him getting hurt if
I can’t start over and give myself to him the way he deserves.

Adam pulls the car up in front of the movie
theater and hands the car key to a valet before opening the door
for me. I hold his hand to get on my feet in the most decent way
possible, given the tightness and the shortness of the dress.
However, Adam apparently sees our tangled hands as an opportunity
to have his claim on me as my date and doesn’t let go of my hand
even for a second.

I’m taken aback by the number of cameras
directed at me and other guests on the red carpet. I try my very
best to look cool and relaxed while relaying my mini speech,
previously dictated by the publicists of the movie.

I spot Miranda chatting with Carmen Piana at
the entrance to the movie theater and wave at them. Miranda’s grin
grows wider by the second as Adam and I approach her. I introduce
Adam to Miranda and Carmen and scan around while they exchange
pleasantries.

“Pat,” a familiar voice startles me, and I
look harder to locate where it’s coming from.

Oh, my goodness! It’s Zach.

He stands at the other end of the red carpet,
behind a group of fans. He points with his chin toward the back of
the theater, and I excuse myself, saying I’ll sign autographs and
hurry after Zach.

Zach looks half the weight he had the last
time I saw him, with the same dark circles under his eyes, deep
lines creasing his forehead. His shirt is wrinkled, his yarmulke
barely hanging on his head. The sight of him, so broken and
crushed, hits me like a blow to the chest, overwhelming me with the
emotions I’ve been trying to suppress since the minute I was
wheeled out of the surgery room of the abortion clinic.

“Zach, what are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t believe you wanted to break up
with me. I came to see it with my own eyes. So, I guess it’s
true.”

I swallow the burning lump in my throat. This
isn’t what I wanted him to see.

“Is that the guy?” He gestures toward the
movie theater. “Adam? The one you’ve been cheating with behind my
back, when I had to deal with my sick father and then the
funeral?”

“Zach, no. It’s not like that. I didn’t… Oh,
God, how can you…? I love you, but I don’t want to stand between
you and your family. We’re too different. We don’t belong to the
same world.”

“You’ve noticed it just now?” A painful laugh
tears from his throat. “After five years of taking what you wanted
from me, now you realize I’m not as fun as the other men, that I
don’t party or drive fancy cars?”

“Zach, no.”

He lifts his hand, palm toward me, for me to
stop, and I comply. “I shouldn’t have believed you. It was clear
what he wanted in his texts, and apparently you’re giving him just
that. Never in my life had I thought you’d betray me like this. I
thought you loved me like I loved you. I could have given the world
to you just to make you happy. To see your beautiful face smile.”
Tears start flushing out of his eyes, and his voice breaks. “For
God’s sake, I chose you over my family, my own parents. I loved you
so much I’d have cut my ties with my mother if that was what you
wanted. I’d have done everything for us to work. I’d rather be
blind than see you in the arms of another man. I’d rather die than
seeing you turning to a piece of dirt.”

That would never work, would it? Him ignoring
his promise to his father to stay with me? Could we be happy
together? Knowing the answer wouldn’t change anything now, though.
Not after what I did to our baby.

Seeing him suffering because of me hurts
every fiber in my body. I wish I could smooth those deep lines on
his face, kiss away the tears coating his cheeks, and tell him, no
shout for the whole world to hear, that my heart never belonged to
another man, that I’ve only been Zach’s.

Instead, I remain silent, accepting all the
blame he’s throwing at me.

“Oh, god. I don’t know,” Zach continues. “I
have no idea how I can live, knowing that you lied to me, to my
face, and went after another man. Why, Pat? Why? Why would you do
such a horrible thing to me? Was everything a lie? Have you loved
me at all? No, don’t answer me. I don’t want to hear any more lies
coming out of your mouth. Here, take this with you. I don’t want to
have anything that you touched.” He slips his hand into his pocket
to pull out a paper, my letter, then throws it toward my feet.

His words, his tears, have me paralyzed to
the level that I can’t even look down at the paper that contained
my raw emotions for Zach.

He smirks, probably judging my stillness as a
proof of his accusations. “I guess it’s time to say goodbye and
wish you happiness and all. But, don’t think for a second those
guys will care about you the way I did. They’ll just use you the
way you used me and drop you when they’ve taken what they want.
’Cause nobody, believe me, nobody will love you like I did. Now
it’s over. You ripped away the only heart that truly beat for you.
Congratulations!”

Oh, God, what the fuck did I do? Everything
would have been so different now if I’d waited a little longer for
deciding about the abortion. But, I couldn’t have been faster to
get rid of the miracle of life God gave me.

I bend down, because it hurts—everything
hurts—and hug my empty belly, willing my baby back, wishing the
emptiness will fill with joy again.

It’ll never be the same. Ever.

I, Pat Stevens, killed my own baby and the
only love I’ve known.

Four years later

They say time heals the scars. I say screw
the time and change your attitude.

Since the day Zach left me, I’ve become a
whole different person. I stopped acting like I was a good girl and
became my egotistical, coward, and opportunistic true self. I’ve
always been a bitch; I just hadn’t accepted it.

For crying out loud, I held hands with Adam
and ate sausages while everything was still good between Zach and
me. I coaxed Zach into having sex with me the day of his father’s
death. I killed my own baby within the three hours of finding out
of its existence.

Who does that?

Well, me, the devil with the face of an
angel. That face managed to fool even me into thinking I was good.
As soon as I got my mind onto the right track and gave in to my
evil inclinations, though, something inside me loosened and I felt
elevated with relief. And not just emotionally, things started to
brighten up financially, too.

Fortune favors the ruthless. I’m the best
example of that.

My first album stormed onto the charts and
stayed top for weeks. Within six months of having my album on the
market, I earned so much money that I bought a house in Hollywood
much bigger than the Garnetts’ home.

Hundreds of relatives, classmates from high
school, friends from church, and neighbors I hadn’t even met lined
up at the door of my mother’s home to ask for a piece of my
success, my money. I wasn’t aware I knew so many people, yet they
all knew exactly what they wanted from me. Free concert tickets,
capital to start up a tow business, tuition help, donation for
church, money to pay the medical bills of an injured wife.

Hell, I didn’t cause the injuries to that
person, why should I pay for her medical bills? If I was my old
self with the delusion of being good, I’d personally visit the
injured lady’s home to hand her a check with lots of zeros on it.
But that’s not how I function anymore. I not only ignored all the
shameless requests, but also convinced my mother and Gordon to sell
their house and move to LA to live close to me in an apartment I
bought for them.

My egotistical evilness boosted my success. I
have no doubt about it.

The day I mercilessly fired my first personal
assistant, Eric, who had a newborn baby girl only two days old, I
was offered three million dollars to appear in a major national
commercial. Eric sued me—of course—and won two-hundred grand as
compensation, but what was that amount compared to what I made in
one-day sweating behind the cameras for the commercial?

A famous but declining singer, who was also
deep in debt, begged me, literally on her knees, for me to compose
songs for her next album, so she could rise back to the top, where
she used to be for so long. I didn’t think twice before I called
security to escort her out. I’m not the one for charity causes, and
life rewards me generously for my stinginess. That same week,
Miranda broke the news about the request for my appearance at Super
Bowl half-time.

As if the evil forces were personally
mentoring my wellbeing.

The Garnetts might have liked me in the
beginning, when I had no money and no place to go, but now they
adored me. Adriana dumped her crappy catering service in LA and
opened up a four-star restaurant in the heart of Manhattan, thanks
to the startup capital from yours truly. Not to mention the gratis
promotions her restaurant receives every time I show up there.

Nikki is testing the waters of the music
industry, again thanks to my connections and the songs I gifted to
her. Eleanor’s husband, Ryan, took over the duties of my previously
fired assistant and spends his time buttering me up and getting
yelled at, all for a salary three times higher than he’d have
received had he worked in a company with his crappy university
degree. Dr. Garnett had a problem with a psychopathic female
student of his, and I intervened and paid the girl enough money to
cover her full tuition under the condition of changing to another
college.