It was one of those Hollywood parties where you knew everybody and nobody. So many famous faces, and yet not one of them looked particularly pleased to see you. Chris took a sip from his glass – soda water, thank you – and looked around the pool area where everybody had congregated.
Neil had wandered off with some friends, and the host had long since disappeared into what he called the ‘powder room’, though everybody knew no cosmetics were involved. So here he was, alone once more, watching as people made inane conversation with only half an eye on the person in front of them, because really they wanted to talk to somebody more important, more useful to their careers.
Liv hadn’t even bothered coming. She hated Hollywood parties with a passion. And since she had meetings tomorrow she excused herself. He couldn’t blame her for that.
The only reason he was here was because the host – a rich banker - had invested a lot of money into the movie. He wanted to show off his investment, introduce the producer and star of ‘his movie’ to his guests. He’d done that and now Chris’ job here was done. He’d stay for one more drink then vanish into the night, because he and Neil needed to be on the road first thing in the morning.
“Christopher Vaughn,” a low voice purred. He turned to see a beautiful blonde standing next to him. She was wearing a red, skintight dress that ended mid-thigh, her golden waves tumbling over her shoulders. “What are you doing here?” she asked him. “I heard you were on location.”
“Rhian.” He nodded at her. She was one of Anya’s best friends. Not that it had stopped her from hitting on him a few times, even when he and Anya were together. He trusted her about as far as he could throw her. Preferably into the sparkling pool. “How are you?”
“Jobless.” She lifted an eyebrow. “So if you hear of any good productions coming up let me know. I’m still annoyed you didn’t consider me for your current one.”
“There were no suitable roles,” he said smoothly. “It’s very unglamorous.”
She fluffed her hair. “Oh well, maybe next time?”
“Sure.”
She looked around and then back at him. “Where’s your daughter?”
It was typical she couldn’t remember Luna’s name. “At home with the nanny.”
“You have a nanny?” she asked. “How quaint. Does she talk like Mary Poppins?”
Another thing he remembered about Rhian Morgan. She had no idea about kids. She viewed Luna the same way she’d view a pet lizard. Interesting for about five minutes but otherwise annoying and pointless.
“No, not really.” He shook his head. Hopefully Rhian would move on soon and he could get home. He glanced at his watch. It wasn’t even ten yet.
“Hey Chris!”
He was relieved to see a friendly face walking toward them. Grant Chaplin was one of Hollywood’s good guys. Affable as Tom Hanks, as savvy as George Clooney and as faithful as Jimmy Stewart. He was still married to his college sweetheart, despite a meteoric rise to fame during his twenties. Now he was almost fifty and still a goddamned handsome guy.
“Grant.” Chris’s smile was genuine. He’d met the older actor a few times, though they’d never starred in a movie together. “How are you?” he leaned forward to shake his hand. Rhian’s face lit up, reminding him to be polite. “This is Rhian Morgan. Rhian, Grant Chaplin.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rhian said, sliding her hand into Grant’s. Chris was all but forgotten. “I’m a huge fan.”
“Thank you.” Grant was unruffled as he turned back to Chris. “I hear you have my old nanny working for you. How’s she doing for you?”
“It’s early days but she’s working out well.”
“Sarah almost cried when we had to let her go. She only worked for us for a year, but man she was good. The kids are just too old now, they spend most of their time on the goddamned Xbox.”
Chris smiled and nodded, aware that Rhian was still listening avidly.
“It was a good thing you did, taking her on when nobody else would. Did your PA tell you I spoke to him? Gave her a great reference. Just a shame the Silbers screwed her over.”
From the corner of his eye Chris could see Rhian tipping her head to the side, a half smile playing on her lips. “She worked for the Silbers?” she asked.
Grant frowned, his eyes catching Chris’.
“What did you say your name was again?” Grant asked.
“Rhian Morgan.” She beamed.
“Well, Rhian. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll introduce you to a few people.”
Her eyes lit up. “That would be wonderful.”
Grant took her arm and turned her around, mouthing a ‘sorry’ to Chris before pulling her away.
Chris drained his drink and put it on one of the glass tables scattered around the pool area, then made his way back into the house. He’d find Neil and they’d go back to his L.A. house, and tomorrow he’d be out of here.
Doing what he loved best. Making something that would last forever. And hopefully Rhian would either meet somebody much more interesting or she’d get trashed and forget all about that conversation.
Because one thing he hated was people talking about him. Which really was crazy, because his agent loved it.
A piercing scream cut through Chelsea’s dream, making her sit up in bed, her eyes fighting against the sudden wakening. For a moment she froze, then another scream came, and she ran her ass off toward Luna’s bedroom.
It only took a few seconds, but in those few moments every fearful scenario rushed through her mind. Were there intruders? Had Luna fallen out of bed and broken something? When she pushed her way through the bedroom door and saw the little girl alone in her bed a wave of relief washed through her.
But then Luna started screaming again, her body thrashing around on the mattress. Chelsea ran to the bed and dropped down until her knees reached the floor, swallowing hard.
“Luna?” she said softly.
Luna didn’t reply. Just started crying out again. A moment later she sat up, her eyes still tightly closed.
“Sweetie?”
Still nothing. That’s when she realized Luna was having a night terror.
Chelsea had learned about them during her child development studies. The kind of nightmares a child didn’t wake up from. Instead, they continued to live them. Their bodies would go into fight or flight mode even while they were in deep sleep, their breathing rapid, their body movements jerky, their voices loud and afraid.
Luna’s eyes opened, and for a moment Chelsea thought she was awake. But her stare was glassy, unseeing, and a second later her eyelids came down again, like a curtain on a stage show. There was nothing she could do but wait for Luna to awaken, and she hated that.
It took three long minutes before the episode was over. Luna moaned, turning to her side, and Chelsea brushed the hair back from her clammy brow. Slowly Luna’s eyes opened, and she blinked, seeing Chelsea so close.
“Hey honey,” Chelsea said softly. “You okay?”
Luna blinked the sleep from her eyes. “Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s coming home in the morning, remember?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I want Daddy.”
Chelsea’s heart clenched. “Of course you do. And he wants to be here, too. Can I give you a hug for him?”
Luna sniffed and nodded, and Chelsea gathered the little girl into her arms. She could tell Luna was confused. Her body was still shaking from the remnants of the dream. Luckily, within minutes her breathing had calmed and her body slackened against Chelsea as sleep reclaimed her. Laying her carefully back onto the bed, Chelsea watched her closed eyes and rosebud lips, her chest rising and falling rhythmically as her whole body calmed.
Exhaling heavily, Chelsea scrambled back to sit by the door, unwilling to completely leave her yet. She knew that night terrors tended to be forgotten almost immediately by the child, but still, she wanted to be here if it happened again.
A glance at her watch told her it was almost midnight. Should she tell Chris what had happened or leave it until morning? Normally she’d leave it, but she was still on a knife’s edge with him. Trying to prove herself trustworthy. Would he trust her if she didn’t contact him right away?
Checking that Luna was still sleeping, Chelsea tiptoed back to her bedroom and grabbed the phone Chris had given her. Then she walked back to the hallway, standing just outside Luna’s bedroom, the door ajar enough for her to keep an eye on the sleeping child.
She hit the call button next to Chris’ name. Here went nothing.
“Chelsea? Is everything okay?” His voice was clipped. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed for her calling at this time or worried about the reason for her call.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” she said, her voice calm for both of them. “But I thought you should know that Luna had a night terror tonight. I wasn’t sure whether to save it for once you got back or not.”
He let out a long breath. “I thought we were over those.”
“She’s had them before?”
“Yeah. When Anya and I first split up. Most nights for a few months. The doctor said she’d grow out of them and I thought she had.”
Chelsea glanced into Luna’s bedroom again. All was still calm. “Maybe it’s a one-off,” she said softly. “Because you’re away or because she’s in a new place. Could be anything.”
“Hopefully.” Concern still etched his voice. “Are you okay? They’re pretty brutal to witness.”
Her throat tightened. “I’m okay.”
“It’s okay not to be okay.” She could hear his breathing through the phone. “Apparently I had them as a kid, too. My mom said they were the worst thing.”
“I heard they could run in families.”
“Yeah, the doctor said that. I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”
She shook her head even though he wasn’t there to see. “If she hasn’t had one for a long time why would you? It’s okay, I was taught about them in school, though I’ve never witnessed one.” She pulled her lip between her teeth. “Would you like me to take her to the doctor tomorrow?”
“Is there a good one in town?”
“There’s a great pediatrician. And she’ll refer us if needed.”
“Okay, make the appointment. And let me know when and where, I’ll meet you there.”
“You don’t have to. She’ll probably advise us to wait it out. There’s not really much more we can do.”
“Yeah, I know. I still want to be there.”
“Okay.”
He cleared his throat. “I should let you get to bed.”
“I might just sit outside Luna’s room for a while.”
“If I was there I’d sit with you.”
Her chest felt like something was squeezing it. “I wish you were.”
“I’ll stay on the line with you for a while, in case it happens again.” His voice was low.
For a long moment there was silence between them. She shifted, feeling awkward.
“How was your party?” she asked, just to break the pause.
“Dull. I got out of there as soon as possible. I needed a whiskey.”
“You weren’t drinking at the party?”
He gave a little laugh. “No. I like to stay stone cold sober and alert. Those things are traps.”
“In what way?”
“In the way that everybody talks about you after. And I don’t like to be talked about.”
“I don’t either.” She sat down on the carpet outside Luna’s room, resting her head on the wall. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does.”
“When did you have night terrors?” she asked him.
“After my dad left the first time.”
“He left more than once?” She frowned.
“A few times. The last was the worst but by then I was twelve. He cleaned everything out. My mom’s bank account, her rainy day savings under the bed. Even took the TV. The only thing he left was some old videos we couldn’t watch until mom had saved enough money to get a new TV and video player.”
“I’m sorry.” She pulled her lip between her teeth. “People can be assholes.”
“My dad certainly could.” He let out another breath. “You know the worst thing?”
“What?”
“He had an amazing taste in movies. I kind of hate that.” He shook his head as though annoyed.
“What videos did he leave?” she asked, intrigued by this side of him.
“Old ones from the seventies mostly. The Godfather parts one and two, All the President’s Men, Serpico. But the ones I liked the most were the Spielberg ones. Duel, Jaws, man those are great movies.”
“Is that what made you want to make it in Hollywood?”
He gave a little chuckle. “I guess. We were hardly getting by, my mom and I, yet those movies got us through. She worked most nights but on Fridays she’d be home and we’d make burgers and pretend we were at the movie theater.”
“We used to do that, too. Bring all our bedding and pillows down and make a pallet in front of the TV.”
“What’s your favorite movie?” he asked her.
Her breath caught. “I don’t know that I can answer that. You might judge me.”
“Depends on the movie,” he teased.
A smile played at her lips. “Pretty Woman.”
“Okay, now I’m judging.”
“Stop it,” she told him, warmth rushing through her. “It’s a great movie. And Julia Roberts is heaven. I had the biggest girl crush on her growing up.”
“Wasn’t that movie made before you were even born?” he asked.
“Yeah, but it’s a classic. And my mom’s favorite movie, too.”
“Still disappointed.”
“Okay then, let’s turn this around. Who’s your favorite child development psychologist?”
He laughed loudly. “Piaget.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’ve heard of him?” She’d studied Piaget’s models of development in her first year at college.
“Not just a pretty face, am I?” he asked.
Her stomach contracted as she thought about his face. The hard lines of his jaw, the piercing blue of his eyes. She’d never met a man so physically beautiful. And now he was making it worse by being so perfect on the inside, too.
Life sucked.
“I think Luna is okay now,” she said, glancing into the bedroom one last time.
“Yeah. We should get some sleep.” He sounded almost reluctant. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And thank you,” he told her. “For being there for Luna.”
“It’s my job.”
“I know. But thank you anyway.”
“Any time. Good night, Mr. Vaughn.” She wasn’t sure why she was back to using his last name again. But she did like the way it made his breath draw sharply in.
“Sweet dreams, Chelsea.”