Chapter Nine
Valentina had never been so thankful for Smith's busy schedule or her sister's popularity. It meant that they'd been interrupted in his office before one kiss could turn into any others, and that she could go straight back to her own office and bury herself in her workload...with Smith only edging into her mind every other second, rather than every single one.
Because even as their kiss dove into increasingly deep and dangerous waters, she could feel his patience, and how tightly he'd been holding on to his control.
With a heady shiver of anticipation she knew she shouldn't be feeling, Valentina could no longer deny the absolute certainty that Smith's patience was going to run out soon.
And that hers would, too.
Even though she'd tried again and again to keep her distance, she hadn't been able to keep from getting closer instead.
With every word he spoke, she could feel her defenses crumble just a little bit more. Had he chosen that final moment before the knock came at his office door to reach for her, she would have gone to him, with him, without a protest, without a care in the world for all her reasons for staying away from him.
Just as Valentina was trying to complete the impossible task of dragging her focus away from Smith's kiss and back to her email, Tatiana popped her head in.
"Got a second?"
Valentina immediately got up from behind her computer. "Always." She put her arms around her sister and gave her a hug hello. "What's up?"
Her sister's gaze sharpened on her. "I actually wanted to check on you."
"Me?"
"Is everything okay?"
Dozens of responses flew to the tip of Valentina's tongue: Smith kissed me. Or I kissed him. I honestly don't know what happened. Only that it was good. So good that I can't seem to find my center again.
But even though she badly wanted to talk to her best friend in the world about her twisted thoughts and feelings, she didn't dare. Not when Tatiana was working so closely with Smith. Her job as lead actress on the major feature film was hard enough on her. The last thing she needed to be worrying about was whether or not her sister was getting along with her all-powerful co-star.
"George asked me the same thing," Valentina said with a smile. "I think I'm officially too old to get away with missing a few hours of sleep."
Tatiana rolled her eyes. "You're not old, you just work too hard. And because that's entirely my fault, I'm treating both of us to a spa day on Saturday."
Valentina almost moaned aloud at the thought of getting a massage and then sinking into a spa. "You know I love working hard. But I'm certainly not going to say no to a spa day with my favorite person in the world." Just then a text came in on her phone from George. "Your esteemed agent has just asked me when you'll be up for a conference call to talk about your commercial in Japan."
"Would tomorrow work? I was actually going to head back to the house soon to go over my lines a few more times."
"Okay, I'll tell him," Valentina said, and then, "Do you want me to run them with you?"
Her sister shook her head. "No. I mean, I know them cold. That's not really the problem."
She always did, thought Valentina. Even when she was a little girl, her sister had never flubbed her lines. She'd left it up to the less prepared adults to do that.
"I guess I'm just a little nervous about shooting tomorrow's scene. I mean, I know how to pretend to be in love, or how to act scared, or happy...but I've never been in labor before."
"Thank God for that," Valentina teased, glad when her sister smiled. "You don't need to overthink it."
"I know I shouldn't," Tatiana agreed, "but I just really want to do the scene justice for all the mothers out there who've gone through so much pain for their kids." With clear hesitation, she said, "I talked to Mom about it."
Valentina felt a sharp pang in the center of her chest as she forced out, "That was smart. What did she say?"
"She was actually pretty helpful."
Valentina bit back a sarcastic "She was?"
"She told me all about her labor with each of us, about how it hurt so bad that Daddy refused to let go of her hand for even a second. Eighteen hours," Tatiana said softly. "That's how long he held her hand. Until he could finally hold us."
Valentina exhaled a shaky breath as she reached for her sister's fingers and gripped them tightly. "I miss him so much sometimes."
"Me too," Tatiana said, and even though their mother wasn't there with them, she might as well have been. Because she had to miss him most of all.
Her sister was just getting up to leave when Tatiana spotted the black-and-white picture. "Oh, I love this picture! When did you get it?"
"This morning. Smith found it in the candids Larry has been taking on set and gave it to me."
Her sister's eyes flickered to hers. "That was nice of him."
Valentina nodded and carefully said, "He's certainly setting the bar high for your next co-star."
Tatiana stared at the photo for another few seconds before putting it down. "I was thinking about ordering pizza and chasing it with some ice cream to help put myself in a pregnant-craving mindset. Any interest in joining me?"
"Are you kidding?" Work could wait. A night with her sister was precious. She grabbed her bag and her phone, but purposefully left her laptop on her desk for once. "Pizza and ice cream sounds almost as good as a spa day. In fact, if we pair it with Pretty Woman I may not need the spa at all to put a spring back in my step."
"What is it," her sister asked as they headed for the parking lot, "about a prostitute and a billionaire falling in love that's so darn perfect?"
Valentina shrugged. "Who knows?" After all, the last thing she had a clue about was love, fictional...or otherwise. "Some things are just perfect," she said as she found herself thinking about Smith again, "even when they don't make any sense."
And some things, like her relationship with her mother, would never be perfect no matter how badly she wanted them to be.
* * *
The next day, feeling much more relaxed after a night of gorging on junk food while reciting all the lines in Pretty Woman to each other, Valentina sat back with the rest of the crew and watched Smith and Tatiana as they stood with their heads bent over the script, talking through the nuances of the scene one last time before they started shooting.
Most of the movie had been filmed in order so far. It wasn't always like that, but Valentina liked it when the story arc made sense. Heck, she liked it when things made sense, period.
Yesterday they'd filmed a handful of montage scenes of Smith's character, Graham, slowly wooing Tatiana's character, Jo.
First, he gave her baby booties, soft and pink and so pretty that she hadn't been able to refuse them. When Jo had said, "I haven't asked to know the sex. It might be a boy," Graham's eyes had clouded over. "It's a girl." And then he'd walked out, leaving Jo frowning, still holding the booties.
The next time he came to the coffee shop he was carrying a small silver bag with more pink inside. Only this time he didn't stay to watch her pull out the tiny baby clothes, pretty little dresses that everyone exclaimed over. She ran from the coffee shop and caught him halfway down the sidewalk. Her thank you came first, her admonishment not to keep bringing her gifts came second. But all he said in response was that she needed to be more careful about running down a crowded sidewalk in her condition.
Jo found the brand-new stroller and newborn-baby seat inside her apartment the next afternoon when she'd had an early-morning shift. She ran her hand over it admiringly even as she decided that Graham had gone too far. Not just because the gift was way too expensive and it would take her forever pay him back, or because she was touched despite herself at the fact that he'd clearly done his research about the safest baby gear, but because he'd not only figured out where she lived, he'd also figured out a way to get the stroller inside without asking her permission.
It was easy to look up Graham on the Internet and find out where he worked. Or, rather, the name of the building he owned in the financial district.
Jo knew she looked horribly out of place with her big belly and bright maternity clothes and pink-streaked hair on the busy street full of tense people in dark suits all rushing as they spoke into earpieces. Five months ago it might have bothered her the way people stopped and stared at her, wondering what the heck she was doing so far out of her environment, but with her entire focus on giving the businessman - or as she'd just learned, billionaire - a piece of her mind, she simply didn't care.
The glass in the front of the building was so clean and clear she imagined people walked nose-first into it every day. Pushing the heavy front door open, she had to stop to take in the high ceiling, the polished granite floors, the almost quiet reverence to money that the building, and every occupant she could see in the large entry, gave off.
Irritated with herself for being impressed, she marched up to the security desk. "I need to see Graham."
To his credit, the man didn't blink an eye. Not at her youth. Her clothes. Or her belly. "Name, please."
"Jo. I don't have an appointment." She lifted her chin. "But he'll see me."
The guard studied her for a long moment and she stared back as calmly as she could. Finally, he picked up the phone. "Angie, I have Jo here to see Mr. Hughes." Whatever the receptionist said had a flicker of surprise finally crossing the man's face.
He put the phone down and stood. "I'll escort you up personally, Jo."
She worked to keep her cool as they rode up, then higher still, in the elevator. And when he said, "Congratulations," she was the one lifting her head in surprise this time.
Her hands automatically went to her stomach. She was so upset with Graham over the stroller - and the fact that he'd gotten into her apartment - that she'd started to feel a little sick. Well, not sick exactly, but the twinges she'd been having in her back had definitely gotten worse.
It was yet another reason she needed to make him back off. She didn't want anything to distract her from the baby.
And Graham was definitely a distraction.
"Thank you," she said, and then it was time to step off the elevator and onto the plushest, cleanest carpet she'd ever seen. Even in a showroom, she mused, it couldn't look so brand new.
Struck with the irrepressible urge to kick off her shoes and bury her toes in the soft fibers, she was stunned to see shiny black shoes come to stand right in front of her scuffed silver ballet flats.
"Jo."
Every time he said her name, it sent a shiver through her. Today, the lie she told herself was that it was fury that caused the trembling.
She didn't care who heard her say, "I asked you to stop giving me things."
She expected him to herd her into his office, to close the door and make sure what was said between them stayed private.
He didn't move an inch. "You need them."
She wanted to yell at him. But she found herself lowering her voice as she hissed, "You broke into my apartment."
"The stroller and seat would have been stolen if they'd been left outside. And I didn't want you pushing them all the way home from work."
The fact that he was right about both of those things did little to mitigate her fury.
"Look," she began in as patient a voice as she could muster, "I know you still feel bad - "
A sharp pain to her midsection turned her words into a cry.
For the first time since that first day on the sidewalk in Union Square, they touched each other, her hand flying out to his arm to brace herself against the brutal pain.
Jo's eyes were closed too tightly for her to see the panic fly across Graham's face.
"Tell Ellis to be outside with the car in sixty seconds," he told one of his assistants without ever looking away from Jo. To the other he said, "Call California Pacific Medical Center and tell the doctor to have the birthing room ready for us in fifteen minutes."
The pain finally having broken, Jo finally realized his hand was on the small of her back as he moved them into the elevator.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking you to have your daughter."
She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him she could take care of herself, when another pain hit her, even worse this time.
Graham's voice was low, soothing, and incredibly gentle. "Breathe, Jo. In first, slowly." She managed to suck in a breath, though it felt as though her small frame was being torn in two. "Good. Now let it out, just as slow." She did as he directed, and he praised her again. "You're doing great."
When the elevator opened on the ground floor, she was actually glad for his strong arms around her.
"Not too much farther until you can lie down in the backseat of my town car."
Her eyes widened with alarm at the idea of going anywhere with him, but she was still weak from the last contraction and had a feeling the next one was going to be even worse.
He slipped her hands into his as he helped her gently onto the seat and barely flinched as she rode out yet another wave of pain by gripping his hand so hard his fingers cracked.
His encouraging murmurs helped her until she collapsed back against the soft leather, just lucid enough to ask, "How do you know just what to say?"
His strong, hard mouth trembled as he said, "My sister." Just as quickly as the grief had come, it went.
She wanted to ask him more, but before she could push the question from her lips, a new shock of pain ripped through her. While her wail reverberated off the walls of the town car, Graham tugged her closer and held her tightly against him as if he could take her pain into himself instead.
Sweat soaked through her clothes as he gritted out a harsh command to his driver. "Faster. We need to get to the hospital faster."
"Yes, sir."
When they finally arrived at the old stone building, he lifted her out of the backseat as if she weighed nothing and pushed carefully in through the front hospital doors. He didn't stop at the front desk, just walked through with her to the room that he'd insisted be held ready.
Two nurses and an obstetrician entered the private birthing room and began to take blood pressure and other vitals, while the doctor asked Jo in a gentle, very calm voice if she could examine her to see how far along she was.
Throughout it all, Graham held her hand.
And refused to let it go.
As they shot the hospital scene several more times from different angles, all Valentina could do was stare at Smith's and Tatiana's hands linked together. But it was her mother's and father's hands that she was seeing, both of them young, and so hopeful for their future with the family they had made together.
Her throat felt tight as Tatiana and Smith finally broke out of character many hours later and the lights dimmed. Her sister shook out her limbs and laughed as she released the tension, while Smith immediately walked off the set and toward wardrobe. After a while, Valentina finally rose from her seat and took in a deep breath of air to try to clear the tension from her body, too.
When she opened her eyes again, Smith was standing in front of her, already back in his street clothes.
"Ready to head to the Rock?"