Try to protect your daughter from her deadbeat mother? Surprise, the deadbeat is back in town to drag everyone through the mud again.
And on and on and on it goes. When do I get to catch a fucking break?
The phone on my desk starts ringing, pulling me from my thoughts. I know it isn’t productive to dwell on my problems—everyone has their own shit to go through, right? My problems could certainly be worse. I don’t have to worry about being homeless or hungry or how I’m going to provide for my daughter.
But the problems I have don’t seem like they’re any easier to fix. They’re just… different.
It takes me a second to realize my phone is still ringing. Jesus, I really need to get my shit together.
I answer the phone and immediately hear Deacon Masters’ unmistakable voice booming on the other end of the line. “I’m on the phone, dammit. Tell them I’ll be down there for the damned photo shoot in five minutes.” There’s a pause, then, “Keir? You there, man?”
“I’m here,” I snort, trying not to laugh in spite of my shitty mood. “Sounds like I’m not the only one having a rough day.”
If I had to guess, I’d say Deacon is still over in America, still producing movies and raising hell.
“Oh, this? This is just the usual. Everyone wants a piece of me, you know? Gotta keep them on their toes.”
Even though I haven’t talked to him in way too long, I can tell that Deacon hasn’t changed a bit. He was my best friend in college and the best man at my wedding—always able to make me laugh out loud no matter how much stress I’m going through. He made final exams bearable. He got me through the weeks leading up to my wedding ceremony with Kinsley. And while I doubt he has anything up his sleeve to help with the current assortment of crises I’m facing, it’s still good to hear his voice.
“I’ve missed you, man,” I say as that flood of old memories hits me. “Where are you hiding out these days, anyway?”
“Still in sunny Los Angeles. Palm trees, beautiful women, fucking amazing food—the better question is why aren’t you here?”
That is a good question. I’m free to travel anywhere in the world, but I keep finding myself tethered to Scotland. While definitely a beautiful place in its own right, Glasgow isn’t ever going to be described as sunny and warm. Pop stars aren’t writing songs about being carefree and partying in Glasgow.
But L.A.? Me?
“I guess L.A. has never really been on my radar,” I answer. “I’ve been there a few times for business but I can’t say I’ve ever had a chance to relax and unwind there.”
“Sounds like that might be the problem. When is the last time you’ve had a chance to relax and unwind? Honestly? Has it been a year? Five years? Ten?”
He knows me too well. And he isn’t wrong. Italy was supposed to be relaxing. Coming home to Glasgow was supposed to be peaceful.
“I don’t have time to relax,” I say because it’s the simplest version of the truth I can offer him right now. “There isn’t really an easy way to unplug and escape from my life.”
“Maybe not,” he concedes. “But you don’t have to totally unplug and escape. Just dial it back a little. You should come out here for a while. I’m releasing another movie soon. Big studio production with a red carpet premiere and everything. The whole nine yards. We’ll get into some trouble just like the old days.”
I laugh. “I’m too old for that kind of trouble. You are, too.”
“Nah, age is just a number. Seriously, though, you should think about visiting. You could almost be anonymous here—nobody knows your whole family history like they do over in England. And since everyone out here looks like a goddamn supermodel, you’ll blend right in.”
I can’t help but laugh again. We’ve been on the phone for less than five minutes and I already feel better than I have in days. Maybe weeks.
Shit, do I really need to fly to L.A.?
“Can I bring a few people? Some staff? My daughter? Her nanny?” I doubt he had my entire entourage in mind when he extended the invitation, but I can’t leave Isla behind right now and she won’t go anywhere without Ella.
Yeah, that’s my excuse. Ella will be there for Isla, not for me. I can’t keep mixing business with pleasure.
Not as much as I have been, anyway. That only leads to trouble.
“Bring whoever you want,” Deacon says, and I can just picture him shrugging it off. Since I’ve known him, he has never cared about the details in life… Except for his production company, which he treats like his baby.
He has plenty to say when his company is the subject of conversation.
I sigh. “Maybe I should come. I could use a distraction.”
Deacon gives a low chuckle. “Just get your ass out here, okay?”
“I’ll give it some thought.”
That’s the closest I’ll come to a commitment right now, but if I’m being totally honest with myself?
I’ve already made the decision. We’re going to America.
CHAPTER TEN
KEIRAN
Even after almost twenty-four hours of trying to talk myself out of going to California, it’s still the only damn thing on my mind. The more reasons I come up with to stay in Glasgow, the more I want to pack my suitcase and get the hell out of here.
So far, I’ve been weighing the pros and cons in my head without mentioning the possibility of a trip out loud to anyone else. That’s about to change.
I knock quietly on Ella’s bedroom door before poking my head inside. “Are you awake?”
She opens her eyes and yawns. “I guess I am now. What do you need?”
“Come for a run with me.”
“What?” She groans and turns over, then pulls the covers up over her head. “No.”
I know she doesn’t enjoy an early morning jog like I do. I normally value the silence that I can only find in these pre-dawn hours more than anything else, but today is different. I want her input and this is practically the only time we can leave the penthouse without being hounded by photographers.
“Come on, Ella,” I say, stepping inside her bedroom and closing the door behind me so I don’t accidentally wake Isla in the room next door. “It’ll be nice. I promise I’ll stick to a slower pace if you come with me.”
“That’s the best deal you can offer me?” She cracks one eye open again. “No, thanks.”
“You’ll thank me for this later.” I tug at the covers until they come off the bed completely—a big mistake since the nightshirt she’s wearing has ridden up around her waist, exposing the deliciously sexy curve of her ass. Now I just want to crawl into bed with her, but I need to stay strong. We can fool around later. Hell, we can fool around on the beach in Los Angeles if I play my cards right. “You can go back to bed when we’re done.”
“Have you lost your mind?” She sounds pissed but the corners of her mouth are twitching like she wants to smile in spite of herself. “Isla will be awake in a little while and she’s going to be upset if neither one of us are here. Besides.” She tries to yank the blankets from my grip but I’m not letting go. “You can’t make me go for a run. That isn’t part of my job description.”