“Well, I’ll be damned. I had no idea. I didn’t even know who he was that night, so I never would have noticed him. But I can’t imagine Isabel didn’t know who Howard was at the time. She was always savvy when it came to...”
I trail off, as my brain starts connecting dots. Suddenly, I remember that twenty-minute gap during the party when Isabel disappeared on me, and later told me she’d been in line for the toilet. Was she talking to Howard then? Did she contact him after the party, and stay in touch with him during that entire next year, working him, hustling her ass off, until he finally agreed to give her that first big break? And did she do all of this, while I was paying her fucking rent because I didn’t want her working for Francesca anymore?
Georgina sits in my lap and looks at the smiling group photo that includes Howard. “Maybe Isabel was in the same boat as you. Too young and naïve to realize she was in the presence of a hugely successful movie producer.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “Or maybe she was just too damned smitten with her gorgeous date for the evening to notice—”
“No, she noticed,” I say, my jaw tight. “Trust me, she knew exactly who he was that night. Isabel is, and always has been, the most ambitious person I know. She’s always wanted to be a star, come hell or high water.” Again, my brain catalogs the countless times I felt like Isabel was lying to me, early on. The times I felt like what she was telling me didn’t add up. But since I was regularly lying to her, too—about my father, mother, childhood, lack of funds—I always let it go.
“Are you okay?” Georgina says.
“I’m fine.” I stroke her arm and exhale. “I think it’s a great idea for you to keep your lunch date with Isabel tomorrow, and for me to tag along. We’ll tell her about us, and, after that, I definitely think you should ask her any goddamned thing you want about her beloved fiancé.”
Chapter 32
Reed
I wake up and look at Georgina’s sleeping face next to me. Hello, wife. The thought pops into my head, without me consciously putting it there. Which means the thumping urge I felt last night to make Georgina my wife hasn’t abated in the slightest. In fact, it feels even stronger inside my veins this morning. Which means... hot damn. I need a ring.
I grab my phone off the nightstand and send a quick email to Owen, asking him to set up a private showing with a high-end jeweler this week. After a few gifs expressing excitement and shock, he asks me my budget, to which I reply, “Something between a Bugatti Chiron and a Lamborghini Veneno.” Owen replies to that bit of news with two gifs from Disney’s Aladdin. One of the Genie, granting a wish. Another of Aladdin tossing up a pile of gold coins. And I send him a gif of Leonardo DiCaprio from Titanic, where he’s shouting that he’s king of the world.
Next up, I send CeeCee a text, telling her I’ve decided to pour every proverbial drop of me into Georgina’s wine goblet, and asking her to join me ring shopping this week. As I’m reading her enthusiastic reply, a photo of Hazel Hennessy, looking happy in a bathtub, flashes across my screen, along with a message from Henn:
Hazel’s fever broke this morning. Thanks for the limo ride. When I got home, I was well rested and ready to take over for Hannah. You’re the best.
I tell Henn I’m relieved to hear the news, and then rope Josh into the chat, at which point I tell my two best friends the shocking news that I’ve decided to propose to Georgina. The three of us exchange texts and gifs for a while, trying to come up with the perfect location and plan for my proposal, until Georgina stirs next to me in bed and I quickly tell my friends I’ve got to go.
“Hey, good lookin’,” Georgina says, her voice husky.
I put down my phone. “Hey, beautiful. How’d you sleep?”
“Like a baby.” She rubs my thigh underneath the covers. “Who were you texting with?”
“Henn. He left early from our fraternity brother’s birthday party in Vegas the other night because Hazel had a high fever. He was just updating me. Her fever’s broken and she’s doing great.”
“Aw, that’s great. I’m so impressed he left Vegas early to be with his sick baby.”
“Yeah, all flights had left already for the night, so he booked a limo and hightailed it home.” Okay, yes, Georgina and I have decided to be open books. But there’s no reason for me to mention I’m the one who booked the damned limo for Henn. For all I know, she’d slip that little nugget into her atrocious “Reed Rivers Can Turn Water Into Wine” fluff piece.
Georgina snuggles up to me and the touch of her warm flesh against mine makes my heart rate increase.
“Henn is such a good daddy.”
“Same with Josh. Both of them love being fathers.”
She runs her fingertip down the ridges and grooves of my abs for a long moment. “So, what are your thoughts about becoming a father one day? Is that a firm ‘never’? Or is it more like, ‘Never say never’?”
Wow. I didn’t see that coming. I open and close my mouth a few times, sincerely unsure how to answer the question.
She adds quickly, “Everything I’ve read says you’re not interested in having a kid. But, you know, rule number one of journalism is to go straight to the source, whenever you can.”
My heart is clanging against my sternum now. “I think I’ll answer your question with a question of my own. Would you like to have a baby one day? If your answer is yes, then my answer is, ‘Yes, I’d be willing to have a baby with you one day. Not in the near future, please. But, yes. One day.’ And if your answer is that you don’t want a baby, then my answer would be, ‘I’m perfectly fine with not having a baby.’”
I’m thinking this is a monumental answer. Shocking. Earth quaking. But Georgina looks wholly unimpressed.
“I’m asking what you want, in your heart of hearts. Not what you think I want.”
“I just told you what I truly want. What I said is my honest answer.”
Georgina flushes, the enormity of what I’ve said hitting her, full force.
I sit up and look down at her. “So, what do you truly want? Do you want to have a baby one day, in your heart of hearts? Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me the truth.”
She bites her full lower lip, and the sparkle in her hazel eyes makes it abundantly clear what she’s about to say. “Well, not any time soon... but, yes. I can’t imagine not being a mommy one day. Like, maybe when I’m thirty?”
And just like that, I see my future in Georgina’s hazel eyes. I see my future family. And, to my extreme shock, the vision doesn’t terrify me. It only makes my heart skip a beat to imagine Georgina with a baby on her hip, the way T-Rod had one at Hazel’s birthday party.
“Then I guess we’re gonna have a baby one day, baby.”
She touches my arm. “I’d never want to bring a child into the world with you, though, if that’s not truly what you want.”
I take her hand. “Am I chomping at the bit to have a kid, in this moment? No. I’m not. But, sweetheart, if you get to the point where you truly want one, and you honestly feel ready, then, boom. Decision made. We’re having a baby. I mean, come on, I’m sure as shit not letting you have one with someone else.”