There was a painfully long silence. Ian expected Keith to start spilling the information, so the quiet was even more disconcerting. “Have you spoken to anyone?” Keith finally asked.
“No. You’re the first person I called. I have a million messages, though.”
“Oh, Christ.” Keith sighed on the phone.
“What is it? Is everything okay?”
In an instant, the worst possible scenario popped into his mind. The frantic calls and texts from Missy. The press swarming the studio. Keith’s dismayed tone. Something had happened to the baby. The dull ache of dread pooled in his stomach and tears welled up in his eyes. Not that. Anything but that. He could barely form the words to ask. “Is the baby okay, Keith?”
Keith groaned. “Ian, I swear to you that no one is dead or injured. Your mom, your stepdad, everyone is okay. But there’s something I’ve got to tell you, man. Are you sitting down?”
“Yes,” Ian lied. He took bad news better standing up so he could pace across the floor and burn off all the nervous energy. At the very least he knew his family was okay. The baby was okay. He could deal with anything else.
“A story about Missy hit the tabloids yesterday. It’s all over the place—television, magazines, blogs. Apparently a woman in Nashville has come forward claiming that she sold Missy a positive pregnancy test on Craigslist.”
With only a few sips of coffee under his belt, it took a moment for Ian to process what his friend was telling him. Missy had bought a used pregnancy test. A positive one. That meant...
“There is no baby, Ian. There never was.”
“So she’s not really pregnant? It was all just a ruse to...” To what? Mess with his head? Trick him into marrying her? Keep him from dropping her from his label?
Yes, yes and yes.
He’d always known Missy was ruthless when it came to getting what she wanted. But he’d never thought even someone like Missy would stoop that low.
“That’s what they’re saying. The evidence is pretty damning. The woman who sold it to Missy was no fool. When she realized who she was talking to, she knew there was a bigger payday than just the hundred bucks she’d make selling the test. She kept screenshots of her email conversations with Missy and took a photo of her Jaguar leaving the parking lot where they met. Personalized plates and all. It’s all online if you want to look.”
Ian wished he had taken Keith’s advice and sat down. He stumbled over to one of the tall bar stools and leaned against it with one hip to steady himself. Missy wasn’t pregnant. Not pregnant. Could it really be true? It sounded like a pretty credible case against his fiancée, but Ian wouldn’t let himself completely believe the story until he spoke with Missy directly. More convincing lies had been printed in the tabloids.
Yet, it felt true.
He’d been meticulous in protecting himself over the years. There hadn’t been so much as a late period scare with a girl he’d dated since he lost his virginity. He never wanted to make the same mistake his father had made by creating a child he had no interest in. If and when he had a child, he was going to be dedicated to it, no matter what.
Missy showing up with that pregnancy test had thrown him for a loop, but he’d recovered. He’d tried to make the best of it and stay involved, but Missy seemed determined to keep the baby stuff at arm’s length from him. She had refused to let him come to the doctor’s appointment with her. He’d wanted to hear the heartbeat, but she’d said it was too early. When she hadn’t come home with one of those grainy pictures, she’d told him the sonogram machine was broken. Her flat belly hadn’t budged. No morning sickness. No sign whatsoever that she was having his child.
She’d lied to him about the whole thing. He felt sick. Lightheaded. Foolish. But the strongest feeling sweeping over him was that of utter and complete relief. A moment ago, he’d been devastated that he might have lost his unborn child. Now, the child had never existed, was nothing but the manipulative imaginings of its would-be mother. He felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rising in his chest that he absolutely couldn’t let out. Keith and Bree would confuse the sound for one of happiness, and that wasn’t an accurate description of the maelstrom swirling inside him.
“Ian? Are you okay?” Keith’s voice had more concern in it than Ian had ever heard before.
Ian cleared his throat, swallowing the emotions inside of him before his manager panicked. “Yeah. Thanks for telling me, Keith. It’s better I heard it from you.”
“What shall I do about the reporters?”
“Tell them that SpinTrax does not comment on the personal lives of their artists or employees. Then send them to Missy’s house.”
* * *
Bree was afraid to speak. Afraid to move. She was trapped in the kitchen, bearing witness to an uncomfortable situation she had no business in. She had only heard one side of the phone conversation, but that was enough. Judging by Ian’s suddenly pale complexion and unsteadiness, she knew whatever Keith told him was bad.
She waited patiently for Ian to turn off his phone so she could see if he needed anything. In a moment like this, there wasn’t much she could do, but she knew enough to offer. It was the sentiment that was important. If he preferred to be alone, she would go downstairs to give him some privacy. There, she could turn on the television so she couldn’t hear his voice upstairs.
“Ian?”
He looked up from the phone. He seemed shaken but, at the same time, eerily calm. She knew from experience that wasn’t good. He was thinking. Processing. Preparing. Fighting with Ian had always been frustrating for her because the majority of the fight seemed to go on silently in his head. She would say something and just sit back and watch the wheels turn in his mind while, outwardly, it appeared he was ignoring her. Eventually, she would just stomp away and he would throw himself into his music. Or his work. This wasn’t a problem he could ignore, though.
“Yes?” he answered softly.
“Can I do anything? Get you anything?”