The knots in her gut loosened. “This is it?”
“HR has this down to a science. It happens so often, they created a form for it.”
Zahara glanced over the text one more time, wondering if she should have Jax read it before she signed. Only that would involve telling him she was pregnant and… No. Just no. Not yet.
Blowing out a slow stream of air, Zahara put the form on Michel’s desk and signed it. When she straightened, she felt a bizarre mix of relief and nausea. “Okay. Well thank you for—”
“Oh, here. This too.” He searched among papers on his desk and pulled out a couple stapled together. “Your release.”
Release? Her stomach dropped to the floor. Denial kicked in. She scanned the document with a frantic kind of fear building in her chest. “Release from the movie?”
He gave her a blank, what’s-the-problem look. “Well, sure. You can’t do what you do while you’re pregnant.”
“Yes, I can.” That came out with way too much rebellion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Michel chuckled. “I understand. Should have seen Linda when she was pregnant with all three of ours. She went from adorable to poltergeist.”
He made a face and gestured as if spinning his head around.
Zahara would have laughed—in another lifetime.
“No, no. I’m not…” She exhaled. “I meant that my doctor has cleared me. He’s one of the very best in Canada. I told him exactly what I do, and he assured me that as long as I keep myself safe, the pregnancy would be fine. I have plenty of time to finish out the last few weeks of—”
“Z, Z, Z,” he said, waving his hand as if wiping out all her words. “Honey. You’re pregnant. I have every confidence you are completely capable of continuing your job. The big bosses, however…that’s another story. A pregnant stuntwoman is way too much of a liability for the studio execs.”
Panic licked her gut in a wave of fire. “I would never sue. Give me that in a form, and I’ll sign it all day.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, no can do. Don’t worry, you’ll be paid for all your hard work to this point, and as for the other movies, we’ll revisit that once the baby’s here. Who knows? You may fall so in love with that little creature, you might not want to go back to work.”
Her hopes for financial security dropped like a stone in a well. Her years as a diligent, determined, dedicated stuntwoman distilled into a watery role as mother. She wanted to plead with Michel, but that kind of behavior would only confirm his theory of pregnancy psychosis. She didn’t want that in his head the next time he needed a stuntwoman.
Zahara signed the release through the blur of tears.
“I wish you all the best, Z,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”
Zahara turned to leave and pictured Chase outside. Realized she was standing between two men who’d betrayed her—the producer she’d spent years sweating and occasionally even bleeding to please, and the man she now shared a child with.
This. This was why she’s stayed out of relationships. This was why she didn’t allow men close. They always, always, always took care of themselves first.
She stepped out of the trailer, shaking with the effort to keep her emotions inside. As expected, she found Chase waiting. Pacing along the street.
He looked up, his expression expectant, hopeful, even.
He took a step toward her and Zahara put up a hand. “Don’t.”
“What—”
“Don’t.” She turned, searching for the nearest bathroom. She needed privacy. She needed ice-cold water. She needed… She needed…
A sob escaped her before she reached a restroom, and she covered her mouth, shaking with the impending break.
Chase was on her heels. “Z, stop and talk to me.”
Zahara pushed into the public bathroom, relieved to find it empty. She pressed her hands to the counter. Breathe. Just breathe.
“What in the fuck is going on?” Chase’s voice raked down her spine.
She swung toward him, caught herself before she opened her mouth, and crouched to check the stalls. Just to be completely sure, she walked the line and banged open every door.