The Idea of You (25 page)

A
LAINA WALKED INTO
her kitchen just as Crystal was taking something out of the fridge. “I thought you said you were bringing dinner.”

Crystal set the container on the counter and went to turn the oven on. “Yeah, well, there was a line at the restaurant you asked me to stop at, so I texted Maya, and she said she had a pasta thing in here that I could throw in the oven.”

“Great, carbs,” Alaina muttered.

Crystal snapped her a frustrated glance. “Excuse me?”

Alaina flopped down onto one of the barstools at the granite island. “Sorry, I'm just grumpy.”

“Uh-oh, what happened at the doctor?” Crystal winced. “I was going to open wine, but maybe I should go for the Patrón instead. Or maybe you can't drink anything alcoholic?”

“Nope, bring on the tequila. The test was negative.” Alaina had gone to the fertility clinic that afternoon under heavy disguise to see if last weekend's condom mishap had resulted in disaster. It hadn't.

Crystal breathed out a heavy sigh. “Good news. Wine, then?”

“Actually, I think I'd rather go for a margarita. Maya made some mixer yesterday—it's in the door of the fridge.”

Crystal retrieved the plastic pitcher. “Your personal chef is awesome.”

Yes, she was, but Alaina found herself missing Kyle's cooking. And just about everything else to do with Ribbon Ridge.

Crystal went to the liquor cabinet to fetch the Patrón, then set about making the drinks. “Why are you grumpy, then? Unless—” she sent Alaina a sharp look “—unless you're disappointed by the result?”

“I'm not.” She was disappointed, however. Even though the situation wasn't ideal, she still wanted a baby, and going from
maybe I'm pregnant
to
definitely not pregnant
was a letdown. Worse than that, however, was how she felt about leaving Evan and the stilted text conversations they'd had the past few days. They went something like this:

Alaina:
Hey! Just thinking about you and hoping you're well.

Evan:
Good, thanks.

Or

Evan:
I saw you on the Oscars. You looked great.

Alaina:
Thanks!

Or

Alaina:
Good morning! How was your workout?

Evan:
Great, thanks. How was yours?

Alaina:
Really good.

She winced. They were both to blame for the complete lack of communication. She longed to talk to him, to see him, to touch him. But she didn't know where to start.
How about with “I'm not pregnant”?

“Spill,” Crystal said, stirring the margaritas on the rocks before handing one to Alaina. “Not the drink—I did a really good job on these.”

Alaina cracked a smile at her stupid joke. “I would never spill one of your margaritas.”

Crystal picked up her glass and clacked it against Alaina's. “To drinking with your best friend.” She took a drink, set the glass on the counter, then leaned forward. “It's Evan, isn't it?”

Alaina sipped her drink and then took a longer pull before setting it down. “I'm that transparent?”

“Only to me. But I have to say that I haven't seen you this hung up on a guy since . . . since forever. This is the point when you bail—but maybe that's what you did by leaving on Sunday.”

Alaina tossed her a glare. “I had to come back, or don't you remember calling me at four in the morning about the Academy Awards?”

“Hey, don't get mad at me. I didn't hold a gun to your head or anything.”

Alaina stuck her finger into her drink to push down an ice cube that was sticking up. “Sorry, I'm not mad at you.” No, she was mad at herself for being in a funk. And maybe, just maybe, she was mad that Crystal was right. This
was
the most hung up she'd ever been on a guy. And lucky for her, he just happened be the one guy who couldn't tolerate her lifestyle and career and had no interest in sharing her dream of a family. She sure knew how to pick 'em.

She licked her finger and took another drink of the margarita. “Might need another one of these.”

Crystal watched her intently for a moment. “So this guy's different. Why is that a bad thing?”

Alaina hadn't told her anything beyond the condom-breaking fiasco. Crystal didn't even know that he was on the autism spectrum. “What if I told you the guy I was seeing—”

“Evan? Saying his name isn't going to jinx anything or make the situation worse. Tell me what's wrong.”

“Evan's autistic.”

Crystal blinked. “Like
Rain Man
autistic?”

Alaina exhaled sharply. “No! Don't stereotype!”

Crystal held up her hands. “Hey, I have zero experience with this. So tell me about him.”

“His brain works differently than ours. He has trouble processing sensory information and communicating in a typical manner. He's mostly fine.” She shook her head. “No, he's
totally
fine. He's just different. He's honest in a way most guys can't possibly be. When he says or does something, you know it's true and real. There are no games, no uncertainty. What you see is absolutely what you get.” For better or for worse, since he didn't sugarcoat anything.

“That sounds pretty awesome actually.”

It was, but because there was no such thing as perfect, there was more to it. “He's socially unaware, sucks at relationships by his own admission, and has these sensory meltdowns if he gets overwhelmed. Social situations, even with his own family, can aggravate him. And he doesn't ever want children.” She looked over at Crystal with a sad smile. “See how we're a match made in hell?”

Crystal came around the island and sat beside her. “I'm sorry, Lainie. That sucks. Why doesn't he want kids?”

“He says it's because he's worried about genetic stuff, but I suspect he doesn't think he can be a good dad with his . . . I don't know what to call it. Disability, I guess, but he doesn't seem disabled. So many of the things that make him quirky are the things I like most about him. His ability to cut through all of the bullshit and just be in the moment. I've never met a guy like that.”

“I know,” Crystal said softly. “They're all too hung up on Alaina Pierce, gorgeous movie star.”

“Exactly. Evan doesn't do that. I'm not even sure he sees me like that at all. When I got all dressed up in the outfit you sent, he seemed a little shocked.” She smiled at the memory of his appreciative gaze when he'd seen her step out of the limo.

“You're smiling. That must be a good thing,” Crystal said.

“Just thinking about last weekend with Evan.” She turned to look at Crystal. “He is pretty special.”

“Then tell him so. Shouldn't you call him about the test anyway?”

“I will. After dinner.”

“Then we shouldn't drink too much more. Unless you want to drunk dial.” She grinned at Alaina, who rolled her eyes in response.

“Good point. I'll go call him now.” Her insides wobbled with uncertainty. “But first, tell me about your call with Nolan's assistant.”

Crystal reached for her glass and took another drink. “It was good—short. We set up a lunch meeting for Monday afternoon at one. She's sending the script over on Friday so you can take a read beforehand.”

“And it's sci-fi fantasy?”

Crystal smiled. “Yep, just what you've always wanted.” Her grin faded. “But, Alaina, if you do this movie, you have to delay your plans. The movie won't come out for at least eighteen or twenty months—award season of
next
year. The promo tour will take weeks, then there's all the awards shows.”

She'd be thirty-two before she could even get pregnant, maybe thirty-three before she had the baby. If she was lucky enough to get pregnant. Given her total fail over the weekend just a few days after ovulating
and
on Clomid, she had to assume it might not be in the cards for her. And that disappointed her maybe even more than losing Evan.

“I see the wheels turning in your head,” Crystal said. “You don't have to do this movie. Focus on Rainy Day. You're so excited about this pilot you and Sean are vetting.”

That was true. She loved working with Sean and steering her own ship. Still, the Nolan movie could be the pinnacle of her career, and wouldn't that be a great way to go out? “I am, but I can't ignore Christopher Nolan. I don't want to. So I put my dream off a little longer. I'm not canceling it, just postponing.”

Crystal lifted her glass and gave her a skeptical look over the rim. “Don't be surprised if something else gets in your way.”

Alaina glared at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means maybe you don't really want to have a baby right now. Or maybe you shouldn't. I don't know.” She shrugged. “You think your career is on a downward turn, but you're still super bankable, and you've never been better. Are you sure you really want to walk away?”

“Yes. There's more to life than this.” Like love and family. She'd seen the Archers, and damn it, she
wanted
that. Crystal wouldn't understand because she
had
that. “There has to be more than this.”

“Even more reason for you to figure out a way to make this work with Evan. You're obviously in love with him—at least it seems obvious to me.”

Was it possible? Yes, but she hadn't let herself entertain the idea, not after the way things had gone. She'd nailed it when she'd said they were a match made in hell.

She polished off the rest of her margarita and stood. “Do you mind dealing with dinner while I go call Evan?”

“Not at all. You could call from here, that way I'll hear half the conversation and you'll only have to tell me what he said.”

Alaina laughed. “Nice try.” She strolled from the kitchen.

“Hey, you used to tell me everything. I want the full story. I deserve the full story!”

She did, and Alaina would give it to her. She only hoped it would be worth telling.

T
HE BUZZING OF
his phone drew Evan from his computer screen. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and blinked. He glanced at the time and realized he'd been writing for five hours straight. He'd been doing a lot of that since Alaina had left. The words just seemed to flow, and he was actually nearing the end, something he hadn't thought possible just a few short weeks ago.

He looked over at his phone, and his chest caught. It was Alaina. If he didn't pick up in a second, it would go to voice mail. He snatched it up and swiped his thumb over the screen.

“Alaina?”

“Hi.”

God, he'd missed the sound of her voice. He'd watched some interviews with her online this past week, but it wasn't the same. She sounded different when she was in publicity mode. Or actress mode. Or whatever mode she was in when she wasn't with him in Ribbon Ridge. Maybe
that
was a mode, and he didn't know the real her at all.

He pushed that fear down and told himself to focus on the moment. Again, the irony of that wheedled through his mind.

“How's it going?” she asked.

“Fine. Busy.”

She blew a breath into the phone, and he imagined her next to him. Her lips against his cheek, his jaw, his throat. He could almost feel her. Taste her.

“Can we not pretend we're strangers?” she asked. “I called to tell you something important. I had a pregnancy test today.” She didn't really hesitate, but the gap of time between that statement and her next words felt like an eternity during which Evan's guts twisted into knots and his blood roared through his ears. He felt like he was about to take a swan dive off the world's tallest building into an unknown abyss.

“It was negative,” she said.

Relief cascaded through him. “Thank God.”

“Yeah, good news.”

It sounded like that was maybe the end of the conversation, but he didn't want it to be. He'd avoided calling her, had been reserved in their texting, but with this baby thing resolved, he felt enormously better. And he wanted to see her again. “Any chance you're coming up to Ribbon Ridge soon?”

“I don't know. I have some stuff here—an important meeting on Monday.”

“Is that with Sean? I know he has to be in LA on Monday.” Evan hadn't talked to him about it after Tori's suggestion, but it made sense that Alaina would be involved, since they owned the production company together. “Maybe you could come up here for the meeting instead?”

“Actually, it's not with Sean. He's meeting with someone else about Kyle's show. I think we've found a home for it on the Travel Channel. We're pretty stoked.”

Disappointment curdled through Evan's chest. “That's too bad—about not coming here, I mean. That's great about the show.”

“Thanks. Maybe you could come down here with Sean?” she asked.

Had she and Tori been talking? Evan didn't want to know if they had, but he couldn't see Tori doing that behind his back. “Maybe.”

“I'd love it if you did. You could see where I live.”

He heard the hope in her voice, felt it echoing inside him. “I'll talk to Sean.”

“Great. Let me know what you decide. You can stay here if you want—I have a couple of guest rooms.” So he wouldn't have to sleep with her.

“Thanks. I'll let you know.”

“Okay. Bye.” She sounded hesitant, like she didn't want to end the call. He didn't really either, but there was nothing else to say. He just had to decide if he wanted to visit her. Doing that seemed like a commitment, like he was agreeing to something . . . more. He wasn't sure he wanted that. He wanted
her
, but that wasn't the same thing.

“Bye.” He hung up and went downstairs for a snack, because his head had been completely pulled out of the book.