One Night with a Star (Second Chances Book 2) (3 page)

“Oh, now you’re going to come back around at exactly the moment when I don’t want you here,” she snapped at him as he approached her chair in the shade.

“I have a right to see my son,” he said.

“Yeah, I get that,” she fired back, “but could you wait until I don’t have one tit hanging out?”

Simon grinned. “Why would I?”

The sheer volume of his cockiness made her want to smack him…and laugh. Damn him. He was brash and charming in a sort of in-your-face British way that she couldn’t help but like. But that did not mean she didn’t want to castrate him.

“If you have a problem with breastfeeding in public, then you and I are going to have words, mister. It’s perfectly natural and in no way sexual. So wipe that smug grin off your face and act like a human, okay?”

If anything, his grin grew. But only for a moment.

He cleared his throat, thrust his hands into his pockets, and glanced down, shamefaced. “This is hard to take in,” he said.

“No shit.”

“Jenny, a lot of things were going on in my life last year. A lot. But I would have been her for you if you’d told me,” he insisted, serious now instead of teasing. “Aside from that, I had a right to know.”

He did, and the guilt of it choked her. What else could she have done than what she did, though?

“I wasn’t willing to risk it,” she told him truthfully.

“Risk what?”

Rejection. Humiliation. Abandonment.

“The press would have been all over it. I didn’t want the limelight on me while I was pregnant, and I don’t want it on Daniel now.”

“I had a right to know,” he said. He was too calm. Hopefully it was the guilt talking.

“You did,” she admitted. “But I didn’t tell you. Too late to go back and change it. And now, if you don’t mind, we genuinely don’t have time to deal with this now.”

As if to prove her point, Spence jogged over from the porch stairs. “Simon. Time to go down,” he said.

“Right, mate. I’ll be right there,” Simon answered.

Jenny frowned. “Go be a best man. Leave me alone.”

His grin came back. “Love, leaving you alone is what caused this mess in the first place.”

“No, Simon,” she lectured him. “Unprotected sex is what caused this mess in the first place.”

He took his hands out of his pockets in a gesture of surrender, then turned to go.

“This is not over,” he told her as he caught up to Spence.

It wasn’t, and she knew it. Now that the truth was out, it wouldn’t ever be over.

The day was turning into a thousand things that Simon definitely hadn’t expected. He had a son. He was a father. Shit. He had no clue how to be a good father. His old man had done the best he could, but he’d been beaten down by a system that had him with his nose to the grindstone from sun-up to sun-down just to make sure his boy-o had everything he wanted. Come to think of it, he had a good example for a father. In some ways. That didn’t mean Mr. Mercer’s lad couldn’t improve on the things that his father lacked.

Still. He had a son.

“You okay?” Spence asked him. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder at the front of the chairs that had been set up on the beach. The minister stood under an arched trellis decorated with gauze and sparkling sand dollars a few feet away. A string quartet was set up further up the beach.

“Yeah,” Simon answered.

“No you’re not,” Spence called him out.

“You’re right. I’m not.”

“I can’t say I blame you.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I wouldn’t be standing here, about to marry Tasha if I had. She’d have killed me.”

Simon let out a breath. “True enough.”

He didn’t blame Spence at all. He only blamed himself. But if there’s one thing the last year had taught him, it was that blame was as useless as a rubber sword. He couldn’t change the past, he could only look ahead.

As if on cue, the musician’s launched into a new song, and the bridesmaids started up the sandy aisle. Simon’s heart squeezed in his chest as he watched Jenny come down the stairs from Sand Dollar Point and cross the beach to the aisle between the chairs. The woman was born to be on a beach. Her long hair was as golden as the sun, and her skin seemed to absorb the light. He remembered what it felt like to touch that skin, to run his hands along her curves and to kiss those lips of hers. Nothing had ever been so divine.

“If you get a hard-on at my wedding, so help me God, Simon, I’ll kill you,” Spence whispered, leaning closer.

A second later, he straightened and sucked in a breath as Tasha appeared at the top of the stairs and made her way down on her father’s arm.

“What’s this about a hard-on, mate?” Simon teased him.

The reality of the situation was enough to set him to rights. Jenny had made it to her spot across the aisle from him. She wore a genuine smile for her friend now. Her eyes flickered across to Simon as she turned to watch the bride approach. There was something there, something more than scorn or anger, which she had every right to.

What would have happened if he’d called? Suddenly, that was the only thing he could think about. What would have happened if he hadn’t had his head so far up his ass that he couldn’t see the amazing woman right in front of him? Contrary to what she might think, he did not get tired of her and bail. He still wanted her in the morning after that night together. He still wanted her now.

Tasha made it to the front of the gathering of her friends and family and took Spence’s hand with a smile that came from heaven itself. Together, the two of them faced the minister, and Simon shifted into place by Spence’s side. He caught a flash of pink as Jenny did the same on Tasha’s other side. What would it have been like if he hadn’t left? Maybe it would be him and Jenny standing there in front of a minister, saying beautiful things to each other and making promises in front of God. Maybe.

Maybe not. He hadn’t left because he felt like it, he’d left because he’d had to. The journey of the last year had been the most valuable of his life. If he’d stayed and wooed Jenny back then, chances are that not only would they not be in the place of the bride and groom, he would have spent this day passed out on some hotel room floor, or worse. He’d done what he had to do. Now what he had to do was make Jenny see that.

The minister finished his words to the couple, and Tasha and Spence faced each other. The wedding party turned, and Simon found Jenny watching him.

“Spencer Thaddeus Ellis, do you take this woman, Tasha Helen Pike, to be your lawfully wedded wife,” the minister recited the vows.

A twist of something dark and painful flashed through Jenny’s face. Simon felt it in his soul. He smiled at her, telling her it would be okay, she would get her turn. Only, his show of support brought tears to her eyes. She forced a smile, as if pretending they were happy tears, but for Simon, that one break in her otherwise very cool façade was a dagger in his chest. He’d caused her a lot of pain while trying to sort out his own. Only a fool or an asshole would inflict pain like that, and back then, he’d been both.

He wasn’t that man now. His whole life in the past year had been about second chances. Hell, the show he’d signed on for was called Second Chances. Well, this would be his. As the minister continued with the vows, asking Spence and Tasha to commit themselves to each other until death did they part, Simon made his own vow. He would love, honor, and cherish his son, even if he hadn’t been there for the first part of the boy’s life. And he would fight to make things right with Jenny, no matter what it took.

As the minister finished his questions to Tasha and Tasha answered, “I do,” Simon echoed the sentiment in his heart.

I do. I will.

Chapter Three

There was a marked difference in the level of party involved in Spence and Tasha’s reception up on the lawn around Sand Dollar Point and the vast majority of the benders Simon had been on in recent years. It was amazing what an appropriate occasion, a little bit of moderation, and general happiness and good will could do to make people feel relaxed and celebratory. He hung around the edges, though, watching everyone else but feeling out of place himself.

Being in large groups of people that he didn’t know had never bothered him before. Sure, he knew Spence, but at the moment Spence and Tasha were making the rounds, talking to all of their guests, hand-in-hand. He knew Yvonne, but hanging out with your agent was a bit like tagging along with the teachers on a class trip. Benjamin Paul was sitting at Yvonne’s table, involved in some lively discussion or another with her. Ben had directed several episodes of the first season of Second Chances—which they’d all finished filming a few months back—but he was closer to Spence than to Simon.

And then there was Jenny.

Simon watched her, hands in his pockets, as he ambled up to the bar that had been set up on the south lawn. Jenny was magnificent in every way. The breeze had picked up, blowing the golden curtain of her hair across her back. She laughed with Spence’s sister, the two of them instant best friends. Best of all, she carried Daniel on her hip the way that some women carried a designer clutch. Daniel was part of her, a bonus, not a burden. His heart squeezed tight at the thought. His son.

“What are you looking at?” another guest standing at the bar asked him.

Simon blinked away from Jenny to take in the man. His tone was a shade too offended for a casual question. Still, there was no reason why he shouldn’t be honest.

“Jenny,” he said. “The most beautiful girl in the room. Well, the lawn.”

The man narrowed his eyes. “That’s my girlfriend you’re staring at.”

Simon had the sudden urge to clench his fists and maybe put them to good use. He stood straighter, sizing up the competition. The man standing next to him was average height, average build, with close-cut hair and a weak jaw. His suit looked expensive, but it didn’t fit well. He held half a glass of wine like he was clutching a television remote. There was nothing about him that Simon couldn’t top on a bad day. So why the hell was Jenny with this bloke instead of him?

The thought was ridiculous and unproductive. Simon smiled and held out his hand. “Simon Mercer.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve seen your films. Neil Brenner.”

They shook. Neil’s handshake was like a vise. The man clearly felt he had something to prove.

“Do you know Jenny?” he asked, even more on the defensive.

“Yeah,” Simon admitted. “We met briefly last summer when Spence was staying here. I came up for a few days.” And that was the end of that story as far as he was concerned.

“She never mentioned you,” Neil said.

Simon shrugged. “I don’t see why she would.” Except that they had spent a fabulous night together which had resulted in the beautiful boy in her arms right now. Nah, not worth mentioning. Not to this charming specimen of humanity.

“That’s not my kid,” Neil said, pivoting to lean against the bar.

Again, the urge to punch the man.

“No?”

“No,” Neil said. “She won’t tell me whose it is.”

“I see.”

“Jenny and I have known each other since middle school,” he went on, “but we just got together in March. I think there’s something there.”

“Do you now?”

“Can I get you anything?” the bartender interrupted.

Simon glanced at the man, seriously considering. A good, stiff drink was called for right about now, but he hadn’t dared touch a drop of alcohol since he started his soul-searching last summer.

“Soda,” he said.

“You don’t drink?” Neil asked him.

“Not tonight,” Simon answered.

Neil snorted a laugh as Simon took his soda from the bartender. “Not even after your buddy Spence paid for a full bar and wine that most of us couldn’t afford if we won the lottery?”

How the hell had Jenny end up dating this first-class jerk?

“Why should you care, mate?” he asked aloud.

“I don’t,” Neil insisted. “It’s just the wasted expense of it all pisses me off.”

“Is that so?”

Neil glanced to him. “I’m an accountant. I think about these things. The money would be better used elsewhere.”

“Ah.” Simon searched around, looking for someone, anyone else that he could talk to.

“You know, the thing I can’t stand about you celebrities is that you treat the rest of us like we should be grateful that you show up places and treat us. Like we can’t be happy without you,” Neil started. “Like none of the rest of us are good enough and you know it all.”

Simon arched an eyebrow. “Looks like you’ve been enjoying a little too much of that expensive wine already, friend.”

“Buddy, you have no idea,” he said and downed another swallow from his glass. He pushed away from the bar, but turned back to Simon. “Stop ogling my girlfriend, okay? I’m tired of you guys elbowing your way into my business.”

Simon saluted Neil with his soda, but the second Neil’s back was turned he muttered, “Wanker.” He would have settled for just sitting there feeling awkward. Now he had to contend with the fact that he wanted to rip Jenny’s boyfriend’s face off and shove it down his neck.

He took a drink of his soda, finding it entirely unsatisfactory, and walked away from the bar. It looked like there was nothing else for him to do but join the table full of arrogant, entitled celebrities, like Neil Brenner apparently thought he should.

“Hello all,” he said, sinking into a chair at the table beside Yvonne. “Lovely wedding we’re having, isn’t it?”

“Simon, sweetheart.” Yvonne leaned over to kiss his cheek. She’d evidently had her share of the expensive wine, but like everything else, she still managed to command everyone around her.

“Simon.” Ben nodded to him. He then did what Ben did best and went right on talking about whatever thoughts were in his head that he believed everyone should know. “So I should be able to direct at least six of the episodes, but the company is going to have to work around my Broadway gig.”

“Oh honey, I’m sure they will,” Yvonne said. “Everybody loves your work.”

“What’s this?” Simon asked. He hated talking shop most days, but the table wasn’t charged with the same sense of do-or-die that usually accompanied Hollywood chit-chat.

Yvonne leaned back in her chair and looked at him like he was a three-year-old. “You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Simon, you need to start checking your email and answering your calls more often. Second Chances was picked up for a second season.”

A burst of relief cut through all of the tension that the wedding had sparked in him. “That’s fabulous. Does Spence know?”

“Does Spence know what?” Spence himself asked. He and Tasha had made their way over to the celebrity table to greet their guests.

“That the show was picked up for a second season,” Simon said.

“Of course I knew,” Spence laughed. “Didn’t you?”

“He doesn’t answer his calls,” Yvonne said. She stared at Simon. “And you think I need to give you more space. Honey, if I gave you anymore space, you’d be living in an igloo in Newfoundland year-round.”

“It wasn’t an igloo, I was in a B&B near St. John,” Simon said.

“Whatever it was, you’ll need to find a place to live around here,” Spence said. “A steady filming schedule, months in the same place. With any luck, it will last for years.” He raised Tasha’s hand to his lips and kissed it, beaming with love and contentment.

Simon glanced past the happy couple to find Jenny. She had moved to the side, still holding Daniel in her arms, and was now talking to her idiot of a boyfriend. He wasn’t happy about whatever she was saying to him, and at the moment, Jenny looked like she would rather be somewhere else. The only thing that stopped Simon from getting up and marching over there to tell Neil to get lost was the fact that if Neil annoyed Jenny enough, maybe she would do the telling off for him.

Yes, let the wanker bother Jenny until he made her crazy. That would only help Simon’s cause.

“The problem is long-term filming,” Ben had gone on, serious about business as only Ben could be.

“How do you mean?” Tasha asked.

Ben shifted to look up at her as he explained. “Season one was only eight episodes long. It was a mid-season replacement. The fact that it has done so well is spectacular, but it raises a question about our location for the nursing home bits. We’ve been filming on location at Twin Pines, an assisted living facility up closer to Portland.”

“I know,” Tasha said, leaning against Spence and smiling up into his eyes. “I was so happy when the producers chose a spot close to home.”

“Yes, well,” Ben went on. “It worked for a few episodes, but we were picked up for a run of twenty-three episodes for season two. That’s a lot more invasive to the staff and residents at Twin Pines than eight episodes. It could be trouble.”

“Trouble can always be worked out,” Yvonne said. She reached for her glass. “I think for now we should toast to a promising future for us all.”

“Hear, hear,” Simon seconded, raising his glass of soda. “To Second Chances.” For the show and for him.

The group of them toasted with more commentary and fanfare. Simon peeked across the lawn to Jenny once more. She was still talking to Neil, but she glanced over in his direction. Simon smiled and raised his glass to her. Jenny was saved from having a reaction as Daniel grabbed a handful of her hair.

“Second chances, eh?” Spence said, thumping him on the back. “I know where you’re going with that.”

“Do you?” Simon laughed. At least Spence wasn’t in danger of losing his balls if he revealed secrets anymore. In fact, he was glad his friend was out of the line of fire. From here on out, this was something between him and Jenny and no one else.

“Come on. This thing is starting to slow down. I want to take you home now,” Neil said. It was his way of trying to end the conversation that had been going around in circles for the last ten minutes.

“Neil, I can’t just leave,” Jenny sighed. “I’m the maid of honor. I have to be here until Tasha leaves.”

“Says who?”

“Says tradition. Besides, she’s my friend.” She huffed and shifted Daniel to her other hip, bringing him between her and Neil. “What’s gotten into you anyhow? You’re usually not this…jumpy.”

“I’m not jumpy,” he said, “I just don’t like celebrities.”

“There aren’t that many of them here. Besides, they’re more like friends now,” she argued.

“Friends?” he snapped. “You mean the friends who are making my life miserable with all their interference at Twin Pines?”

“What?” She blinked, her growing frustration with him pausing.

Neil let out a breath. “I got word today that their stupid TV show, Second Chances, got renewed for a second season. That means they’ll be all over the place, bothering residents, pushing the staff around.”

“Neil, you’re the facility’s accountant, not the administrator. What does it matter to you?” If she had known he would turn into this big of a pain when faced with a little competition from Hollywood, she never would have accepted that first date after Valentine’s Day. She wouldn’t have let her mom talk her into it, except that she’d been super pregnant and feeling alone. And Neil had been so nice. Back then.

“I don’t know why everyone is so quick to fall all over themselves for these people,” Neil went on. “I can’t believe Jan is letting them film at all.”

“Dr. Brunswick knows what she’s doing. Haven’t you always told me that?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Okay, seriously? Stop. This is my best friend’s wedding. I don’t want to spend the entire reception standing here arguing with you.”

Neil let out a breath. “Fine. But I don’t want to stick around. Those people make me homicidal.”

“You’d better be joking about that,” she warned him.

He relented with a sigh, scrubbing a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll chill out. I should leave work at work.”

“You should.” She smiled at him. Somewhere, under all that childish frustration, he had to be the nice guy that he was for those first few weeks when they started dating, right? That couldn’t have been a fluke. “Why don’t you go talk to Eddie over there. You guys should hang out more.”

She shooed him away to go talk to Tasha’s cousin, who had been in his class in school. As soon as he left, she let out a sigh of relief. She should not feel relieved when her boyfriend went away. It was a bad sign. So was the fact that Simon stood from the table where he’d been chatting with his friends the second she was alone.

“Oh no,” she sighed to Daniel. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, huh bud?”

Daniel burbled at her, resting his head against her chest and grabbing for the front of her dress with a slobbery hand.