The Director's Cut (13 page)

Memories of the conversation in Jason's car flooded over me. What I needed was a guy who took the time to get to know the real me, not the illusion. Not the image I presented but the true person underneath.

What I also needed was a hot soak in my tub and a good night's sleep.

Ugh. Thinking about the tub reminded me of the fiasco that my overflowing bathtub had caused at home. Whenever I thought about going back there to face the mess, I felt sick inside. So instead, I decided to spend the night at my mother's house. First time in six years. I climbed into my childhood twin bed, pulled the covers over my head, and with the roar of voices coming from the other room, fell into a deep sleep.

Saturday morning dawned clear and bright. Mama woke me with a rap on my bedroom door and a cheerful “Wake up, Tia-mia! I made pancakes.”

I didn't need the carbs—who in Hollywood did?—but I joined her at the breakfast table anyway.

My little brother Gabe gave me a curious look as he chowed down on his plate of syrup-covered pancakes. “You spent the night?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I thought you took off with that Julio guy.” He rolled his eyes.

“No, that would be your
other
sister.”

For whatever reason, I began a sneezing fit.

Mama sighed. “Beni called me this morning. Said it couldn't be helped. The chemistry between them was unavoidable.”

My father entered the room in his boxers, immediately causing me to feel uncomfortable. “I know a little something about chemistry.” He waggled his thick brows as he looked at Mama. “How else do you think we ended up with five kids?” He kissed my mother on the forehead and her cheeks flamed pink.

Ick. Exactly why I lived in my own place. And exactly why I needed to get out of here right now. I mumbled a quick goodbye, grabbed my purse, and headed back to my house, where I hoped to find my brothers and a couple of their friends hard at work. Unfortunately, no one had arrived yet, except a teenager named David who stopped by to try to sell me a magazine subscription. No thank you.

I put in a call to Kat but she didn't answer, so I tried Scott's phone. He answered on the fourth ring.

“Scott, this is Tia. I wanted to come by and see you, but I didn't know if you were up to company.”

“We're going through a mess over here,” he said. “Some reporter got Kat's number. Don't ask me how. I don't know.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah.”

“You guys still at the hospital?”

“Trying to figure a way out of here. We need to take her home. The doctor's already released her, but getting past the mob in the lobby is going to be the issue. We're working on a plan right now. Last I heard, it involved going through the emergency room exit in an ambulance.”

“Ironic.” I chuckled. “At least baby Katherine will feel at home.”

“True. Hadn't thought of that. Except this time her parents won't be dressed as Mr. and Mrs. Easter Bunny.” He sighed. “I love my job, I really do. Wouldn't trade it for anything. But at times like this, I'd love to be anonymous. You know?”

Actually, I did know what it felt like to be anonymous. I'd felt that way last night as Julio left with Benita. I skipped all that, however, and just said, “I'm praying for you guys. Can I come by the house later, or would it be better if I waited a few days?”

“Hang on. Let me ask her.”

He returned a moment later. “Tia, she wants you there. She also wants Rocky Road ice cream. Do you mind stopping at the store to pick up some?”

“Of course not. I'd love to. In fact, I'll make you guys a home-cooked dinner tonight. How would that be?”

“Sounds awesome. We haven't had a real meal since lunch yesterday.”

“Okay. I'll prepare a feast.”

I hung up the phone and panic swept over me. What had I just promised? Other than tamales, I couldn't cook. Not a thing. Just one more problem to deal with on an already crazy day.

Carlos and Humberto finally showed up, and we got to work on the house. I helped them pull down the wall between the tiny master bath and the large walk-in closet. Expanding the bathroom space was key, so I worked alongside them, using every bit of strength in my petite body to make that wall disappear.

Something about kicking the wall down did something to me—something positive. I took out my frustrations with each kick. Carlos looked on with an admirable “Wow,” and even Humberto got a laugh out of it.

“You're stronger than you look, Tia.” He gave me a second look. “Should we name that wall Julio, perhaps?”

“No.”
Call it Beni.
I gave it another kick. There. That felt better.
And call this one Dad.
That kick brought down another section. Yep. Much better. “Okay, now I'm ready for Julio.” I gave the wall a final kick.

My brothers laughed until I thought they would give up on their work. Fortunately, they continued, taking down the framework of the wall and completely exposing the new space. Looking at the bigger room, I had to admit the truth—space was a good thing. A very good thing. Especially in a room with a beautiful jetted tub.

The guys worked until four, at which point I handed them each another check and sent them packing. With my plumbing now intact, I finally got to take a bath—my first in two and a half days—then dressed to go to Kat and Scott's.

I stopped by the grocery store and picked up a variety of things—chicken breast, veggies, stuff to make salad. Surely I could handle this, right? I'd already paid for my items when I realized I'd forgotten the Rocky Road ice cream, so back into the store I went. I bought several containers of the yummy stuff, all pint-sized.

As I made the drive to Beverly Hills, I thought about how hard I'd worked today. Something about physical labor felt good, really good. Who needed an aerobics class? Just flip your house!

I arrived at the Murphys' home around five and pressed the buzzer at the gate. Scott's voice came on the line. “Tia, thank goodness. She's dying for that ice cream.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The gate swung open, and I entered the grounds. Stepping inside the large house moments later, I immediately felt at home. Everything was beautiful, no doubt about it. But they'd somehow managed to take a home in Beverly Hills and make it look comfortable and inviting, not show-offish.

Suddenly my mother's words hit me again, hard and fresh. She'd accused me of acting like I was better than everyone else. Okay, so I did have friends with beautiful homes in Beverly Hills. Yes, I worked for a major studio. And true, I lived in a nice house. Well, a house that would one day be nice, if my brothers ever finished it. But I worked hard. And I took care of my family, better care than most of them did themselves. How could anyone fault me for following after my heart, my dreams?

I shook off her words and handed the groceries to Scott, holding back one container of ice cream. He brought me a spoon, then I headed upstairs to see Kat. The moment I laid eyes on her, every bit of frustration I'd been feeling was swept out to sea. She looked like a queen propped up against the pillows with the baby in her arms. A queen holding a princess, all decked out in pink.

See, Tia? Girls come into this world wearing color.

“Oh, Kat.” For a moment, it felt like stepping into their room was equivalent to crossing into hallowed territory. This was truly a place where mother and daughter dwelled in perfect God-given harmony. After all the drama I'd had with my mother, I hardly felt worthy to cross over.

Yet cross over I did. I took a few steps toward the bed.

“Sit with us, Tia.” Kat gestured to the spot on her left.

I eased myself into the spot next to her, still holding tight to the Rocky Road, and leaned over to look into the baby's face. The most awestruck feeling came over me as I took in her pink cheeks and wispy lashes. “Oh, Kat. She's even prettier than she was Thursday.”

“Well, she had a rough day Thursday,” Kat said. “We both did.”

“Have you forgiven me yet?” I asked.

She laughed. “Tia, you're hopeless. You had nothing to do with that. Just how much power do you think you have in that director's hand of yours, anyway?”

“Very little, actually.” I laughed too. “But speaking of things in my hand . . .” I fumbled with the ice cream, trying to decide how to go about giving it to her.

“You want to hold the baby for a few minutes?” Kat asked.

“Can I?”

We made the switch, and I stared down into that precious face, fully engaged in the moment. “She's like a little doll. I don't think I've ever been around a baby this little before.”

“You saw her Thursday night, remember?” Kat pulled the top off the ice cream, shoved the spoon inside, took a bite, and leaned back against the headboard, a look of contentment on her face.

“Thursday wasn't real. It was . . . nuts. But today she's dressed in this beautiful little dress and all curled up looking like a little burrito. She's . . .” I was suddenly overcome with emotion. Did I have motherly instincts? The very idea sent me reeling. Then again, I had pretty much raised my younger siblings, hadn't I? I'd walked my little brothers to school, done the laundry for Benita, and helped Gabe with his homework.

“You ladies decent in here?” Scott called out. He stepped into the room, and I almost gasped aloud when I saw Jason standing next to him. My heart suddenly gravitated to my throat and a shiver ran through me. If I'd known he was coming, I would have put on something other than these jeans and this shirt. Still, he didn't seem to notice. His warm smile captured my heart.

“Now there's a picture of perfection.” Jason gestured to the three of us sitting on the bed.

“Oh?” I said.

“You two and that baby.” He held his hands up, making a frame with his fingers. “Wish I could film this. I'd start with a wide shot of everyone, then narrow down to the baby's face.”

I put my hand up. “You'll never film me. No way.”

“How come?” He took a couple of steps my way. “Camera shy?”

“No. Yes. I don't know. My sister's the one who always liked to have her picture taken. I was the one in the background, trying to blend into the furniture.”

“Trust me, you don't blend into the furniture.”

That prickly, warm feeling traveled up my arms, and I bit back a smile so he wouldn't see how strongly his words had affected me. This day was supposed to be about Kat and the baby, not me.

Kat looked my way and quirked a brow as if to ask, “What's going on with you two?”

By way of response, I slid off the bed, handed the baby to Scott, and smoothed my jeans. Then I mumbled something about how I'd better get busy making dinner. Jason and Scott stayed put with Kat and the baby, and I rushed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Moments later, I fumbled my way around the spacious kitchen, wondering why I'd ever agreed to cook in the first place. A sane person would have driven through KFC or Taco Bell. But not me. Oh no. I'd promised a home-cooked meal, and a home-cooked meal they would have.

Only, now I was cooking for Jason too. If he stayed.

Hopefully he would stay.

“Something smells good in here.”

I turned, and the onion I'd been holding rolled out of my hand and across the floor as I stared into Jason's eyes. “Oh, I, um, haven't started cooking yet.”

“Ah.” He grinned and reached down to pick up the onion. “That doesn't change what I said, though.”

My cheeks grew warm as I realized he was talking about my perfume. Suddenly I was very glad I'd taken the time to spray it on.

“So, what are we cooking?” he asked.

“We?”

“Sure. I'm pretty good in the kitchen, or so I've been told. I grew up with a great cook who considered me her prodigy. I know a thing or two.”

No doubt he knew a lot more than I did. Well, maybe I'd take advantage of that. Swallowing my pride, I looked him in the eye. “Okay, here's a confession. Other than tamales, I can't cook a thing.”

He looked at the array of food products spread out on the counter. “Then what's all this?”

“I don't know.” I sighed. “I guess I thought if I bought all the right stuff, I'd figure it out. I was sure it would all come together somehow.”

“Mm-hmm.” His eyes narrowed into slits. After a moment, he reached down to pick up the onion and started peeling it. Then he prepared the chicken breasts, coating them with seasoning and dropping them into a skillet with a bit of olive oil.

Within minutes the room filled with the most delicious aroma. Go figure. The guy could run a camera and cook up a feast too. Our kids would never go hungry.

Our kids? Where in the world did that come from?

I must've slipped and hit my head for such a crazy notion to latch on to me. In all the time I'd known Jason Harris, I'd seen him only as an adversary. He'd irritated me, challenged me, frustrated me . . . and based on the fluttering sensation in my stomach as I now gazed into his gorgeous green eyes, completely mesmerized me. Why not just relax and see where the afternoon would take us? I had a feeling we had a few tasty hours ahead.