Torn (35 page)

Julie leaned back in her chair, her wine glass loose in hand. “So it’s working out for him, then.”

“Oh, yes. Laurel’s great with the girls. They really like her. She’s even made them jingle dresses so that they can dance at the powwows. Don’t get me wrong, they’re still adjusting to their father living somewhere else, and Tyler living with us, and some days it’s difficult. But they love their brothers, and Jake’s so happy… More relaxed than I’ve seen him in a long time… For that matter, so am I.” Chelsea stared at her pizza in silence for a long moment before looking back up at the older woman.

Julie cocked a golden brow. “What?”

Chelsea shook her head. “Just reflecting. You know, the last time Ty Benson and I were in New York City together, he was autographing my butt. And now…?” She glanced over at the actor, now visiting with a male fan around his own age, who seemed to be in mid-introduction to the man’s elderly mother. Her smile deepened, softened. “Who would have thought.”

Julie smiled in response. “Chels, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Ty. I’ve never seen my boy happier, and I know why. Not to mention me.”

“You?”

The older woman’s smile widened, her eyes glittered with dark humor. “Are you kidding me? Jennifer having to watch you claim your Golden Globe while she wasn’t even nominated? And that’s on
top
of the year she has to serve of community service for hitting you with her car. Even
I
can’t create that level of entertainment. I’m going to be feeding off of that victory for years.”

“We’re going to burn in hell, you know,” Chelsea’s eyes betrayed her lack of concern over such a possibility as she raised her pizza slice back towards her mouth.

Julie’s grin widened even more. “I’ll bring the ice.”

“Does this mean I have to bring the beer?” Tyler pulled out the chair next to Chelsea and folded his tall body into it, but not before taking a large bite from the tip of Cheslea’s sagging slice of pizza.

“Hey! That’s the best part! That’s like, the
filet mignon
of the pizza!”

“So why didn’t you eat it first?”

“Because I was saving the best for last!”

“Sorry,” Tyler leaned across the table and helped himself to a slice loaded with green peppers and Italian sweet sausage. He deftly folded it in half and demolished it in a few bites before reaching for another. “You snooze, you lose.”

Chelsea looked to Julie. “All that autographing and posing must have made him hungry.”

Tyler snorted as he poured himself a glass of the merlot and took a fortifying swallow before setting the glass back down on the table. “I’m just trying to catch up while I can. I don’t know how you did it with Faye and Grace, but I can see Mekhai’s eyes start to open already from here.” The smile hovering around his lips widened when his second-born son proved him right by blinking dark blue eyes, mouth stretching in a lopsided yawn.

Tyler, with the new surety of fatherhood, removed the small infant from the car seat next to his mother and cuddled him close. “Sssssh. Don’t want to wake up Marlen.”

Chelsea smoothed back a curly lock of dark hair from their firstborn’s forehead, tucked the blue satin blanket more securely around his tiny body as Mekhai’s big brother slept, oblivious to his surroundings. “Don’t worry. Mars won’t be waking up any time soon. You know he likes to wait until we’re half-asleep.”

Tyler laughed softly, and kissed the tiny fist that Mekhai had wrapped around his index finger. “True.” He leaned across his son to kiss Chelsea. As their lips met, the room lit up, strobe fashion, and startled, the couple looked up in time to see the restaurant staff removing undoubtedly a member of the paparazzi from the premises.

Their waiter, now hovering near the table, and looking distressed, blocked the view of the couple from the protesting man. “Apologies,
Signore
Benson. We’re not certain how he got in here, but it won’t happen again.”

His infant son cradled gently in his arms, Tyler’s brow furrowed as he contemplated the woman seated across from him. He glanced at Julie, who shrugged, and polished off her wine. “Chels…?” he began.

Shaking her head, she smiled. “It’s okay, Tyler. Momentary lapse. You’d think I’d have gotten used to it by now, but… It’s weird. You know, even when I watched those T.V. shows of the press following celebrities around –– you know, like a train wreck that you can’t turn your eyes from? –– I thought it was weird. Unreal. I just didn’t have a clue
how
weird.”

“Speaking of weird,” Julie scraped back her wood chair and stood, then bent and picked up her magenta striped leather Prada purse from its spot on the floor. “I’ve got to run. Have a late meeting tonight with a couple of producers Downtown.” Looping its gold chain over her navy pea coat clad shoulder, she swiftly kissed first Chelsea, then the sleeping babies, and Tyler. “See you on set tomorrow,” she called as she slipped through the crowded restaurant and breezed out its front door.

Lifting Mekhai’s car seat onto the table, Tyler carefully strapped his son back in, tucked the soft, sage green cashmere blanket around the tiny bundle. The little boy’s eyes favored his father with a couple of drowsy blinks before falling shut once more. His eyes soft with love, the actor looked from his son to his son’s mother. “Ready?”

Chelsea stood and pulled her motorcycle jacket from the back of the chair. The enormous yin-yang on the back, its once white paint now cream and flaking slightly with age, was like a beacon in the dimly lit room. The leather creaked in stiff protest as she slipped her arms into it, then zipped it closed, glanced down at the flame streaks on the front, made with her own fingers a lifetime ago.

Laughing softly, Tyler shook his head. “I can’t believe you still have that.”

She smirked as she pulled on her black leather gloves, then grabbed Marlen’s car seat after pulling its hood down over the sleeping baby. “I told you I did.”

Eyes on Chelsea, Tyler absently pulled the cover over Mekhai as he placed several twenties on the table. It was more than enough to cover their meal, along with a generous tip.

“Huh.” His eyes narrowed even as a dark gold brow lifted as he perused the words
Sex, Drugs, Rock ‘N’ Roll
that screamed from her chest. “I can see why Jake might have… objected to being seen next to that.”

She stuck her tongue out at him when she walked around him, their son’s car seat gripped firmly in one hand, Tyler watched with unabashed pleasure as her ass, clad in black tights and denim jean shorts walked around him, his own signature scrawled like a brand on its left cheek. “I still can’t believe you have those.”

Chelsea’s gaze dropped to her own rear end, and she grinned. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll let you sign the other cheek.”

Whatever Tyler was going to say was lost as yet another female fan approached the couple, gushing about how much she’d loved the movie and would it be all right to autograph her menu? Stifling a sigh, Tyler switched Mekhai to his right hand and shifted to take the proffered pen, when, to his amusement, the young woman turned to Chelsea, menu closed, marker ready.

Stunned, Chelsea glanced at Tyler then stared at woman in front of her, her face hopeful and eager. “My autograph? You want
mine
?”

At the woman’s nod, Chelsea shifted Marlen to her right hand and quickly scrawled her name across the menu. The woman beamed and thanked her, then headed back to her table.

Tyler’s grin became wolfish. “Or maybe if I’m really lucky, you’ll agree to sign mine.”

~ THE END ~

###

About this Story & the Author

Montana, where I live, has a lot of Open Space. This makes for long car drives getting from Point A to Point B. I come up with a lot of story ideas while flying down Montana’s frontage roads, highways, and interstates. (Did I say flying? Naturally I meant while driving within the legal speed limits. *G*) Playlists blasting from the stereo speakers, I pass the (considerable) time pondering various what-ifs, parallel universes, bloodthirsty possibilities, and the hot yummy deliciousness that is the male back, forearms, and rear… And eyes and smile. Gotta love a gorgeous pair of eyes and a smile that stops you in your tracks. What were we talking about? ;-)

Being from New York, and an Aries, I could relate to “Chelsea” very well. There is much I love about Montana and since moving out here in 1996, I can’t say that I would ever go back to reside permanently in NYC. I’ve fallen in love with the country here. That being said, there are times when I miss NYC. My favorite restaurants. My wonderful Peeps from back in the day. I’m too busy being a mom, wife, registered nurse, graphic cover art designer, website designer/forum administrator, etc, etc, to get too nostalic however. I enjoy my blessings, and am grateful to have grown up in NYC as it provides much in the way of entertainment fodder, potential and otherwise. :-)

I began writing
Torn
in 2001 while going to nursing school and raising a toddler and newborn. It was my way of “relaxing” between assessment papers and exams, and a way to utilize my Obsessive Brad Pitt Disorder (OBPD) in a constructive manner. (I’ve hearted Brad since 1994, LOL! – And, btw, my husband rocks! LOL…)
Torn
was also a way to have one’s cake and eat it too. LOL… I just still can’t get over that it took me SEVEN freaking years to write this book. It is my first “official” novel and I have several more in varying stages of development. I don’t know what else to say about it, but if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask, and constructive commentary is always welcome. I can be reached via my website (
http://www.krysiasweb.net
), my
Facebook
page, and via Smashwords at
http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/Krysiasweb
.

I hope you enjoyed
Torn
and I look forward to hearing from you!

~
Christina