With Brave Wings (7 page)

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Authors: Cara Dee

Tags: #Hollywood, #director, #actress, #may to december, #breaking free, #cara dee

BOOK: With Brave Wings
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She clenched her jaw and made sure her discomfort didn’t show. "What do you want? As you can see, I'm not crawling back to you, so there's no reason for you to speak to me."

She had to admit it was nice throwing his words back at him. Dad had been so fucking arrogant and confident, sure she'd be back with him in no time. Joke was on him.

His eyes flicked between hers and her baby bump, and for the first time in Sophie's life, she could see beyond his stony expression. Actually, it had been over ten years since she'd thought he
was
more than a business tycoon, but he didn’t look all cold and detached right now.

He almost appeared…older. Peter Pierce had always been handsome, but it looked like he was running ragged nowadays.

"I underestimated you," he conceded, frustrated. "But you have to agree that you've taken this way too far. You belong at home, where people can take care of you—especially in your condition."

Sophie was fuming, but she couldn’t help but let out a hard laugh. God, how delusional was he? "I can't believe you, Dad." Her humor faded as soon as she'd said
Dad
. It didn’t feel right to call him that anymore. He'd stopped being her father a long time ago.

Taking a step forward, she glared at him and jabbed a finger at his pristine suit. "First of all, I'm not a business deal you can
estimate
. And my son isn't a
condition
. Second of all, we're so done. Do you even remember how to be a parent? There's no way I'm letting my child near you."

Daniel and Noah had noticed Dad by now, but before they could reach Sophie, she stalked toward them instead, so fucking ready to leave. Her blood was boiling, and she was both panicky and happy she'd gotten that off her chest.

"Sophie!" Dad called after her. "I'm just—
fuck
. Listen to me!"

Nope. Not going there. Sophie let Daniel usher her outside, but maybe that was a mistake.

"Holy hell, they got here fast," Noah said irritably.

Half a dozen photographers had gathered on the sidewalk outside the restaurant's property, and they were crowding Daniel's and Noah's cars.

As the cherry on a shit sundae, Sophie soon heard a nasal voice behind her.

"Hey, Pierce! You're not going to say hi to your BFF?"

"For the love of God," Daniel muttered. "I'll handle this. Noah, you get Sophie home—"

"Wait." Sophie placed a hand on his arm. She couldn’t believe she was about to do this, but she wanted closure. A swift one. So she turned to face Cass and hoped they were out of earshot of the paparazzi, who were shouting questions from left and right.

Cassandra grinned sardonically as Brooklyn flanked Sophie. "I see you've replaced your friends with the help. One makeup artist, a former PA, and…" She waved a hand, dismissive about Noah and Zane. "Couldn’t handle all the attention I got, huh?"

"Yeah," Sophie replied dryly, "
that
was the problem." She was shaking with anger and her gut twisted with nerves, but she needed to do this. "Look, I just want to be left alone—"

Cassandra cut her off with a laugh. "Oh my God, who
are
you? The Sophie I remember never wanted to be left alone. What happened to you?"

"I grew up," Sophie bit out. "Some of us do that. Now,
please
—just…fucking stop, okay?" There was no forgetting the fact that Noah and Brooklyn sometimes kept an eye on things online and found that Cassandra and Sophie's other former friends liked spreading rumors about her. "Pretend we never met; I don’t care."

Cassandra grinned and took a step closer. "Where's the fun in that?"

Her response sparked a venomous rage inside Sophie, and she forgot about the ramifications. "You really wanna go there with me, Cass?" She inched close too, and then she grabbed Cassandra's hand and practically dragged her closer to the street where the paps were waiting. "You forget that I know you." She ignored Brooklyn calling her name and forced a smile for the reporters, all while speaking for only Cassandra to hear. "Smile for the cameras, babe." Sophie squeezed Cass's hand. Hard. "We used to do this all the time. And then in private, we shared shit we never wanted to get out in public."

Like, Cassandra having affairs with married men. But the biggest scandal was probably that she'd fucked her own father. Stepfather, sure, but Sophie knew the press well enough to be able to guarantee the tabloids would leave out that little detail. If they learned the truth.

"What're you playing at?" Cass gritted out. "Jesus, let go of me."

Sophie pretended she didn’t hear. "I'm just saying you might wanna learn how to pick your fucking battles." She turned to face Cassandra fully. "Don’t use me to stay in the spotlight, and I won't let the world know you like to suck your dad's dick behind closed doors."

Cassandra paled, though she tried to put up a front. "Nobody would believe that."

"Honey, I deleted my old Facebook and Twitter, not my photos." Sophie was bullshitting, but she had a feeling it would be enough. Back in the day, Cass had loved bragging about her conquests. Her dad was no different, and Sophie had received several pictures of kisses and fondling. She'd deleted them as soon as she'd gotten them, but Cassandra didn’t know that. "I know how to protect myself." Sophie let go of Cass's hand and patted her arm. "So do we have a deal?"

The sheer hysteria in the fury that lit up Cassandra's light blue eyes scared Sophie. She'd seen her ex-friend lose her shit in the past, and it was never pretty. She'd been sued for going berserk on waiters, bouncers, and housekeepers.

"You wouldn’t
fucking
dare," Cassandra seethed right before she shoved Sophie forcefully. She nearly lost her footing.

"Hey!" Noah and Daniel shouted from farther away.

Sophie let the shock settle, momentarily blinded by the flashes from the photographers. It made her sick, and she was regretting
everything
. Holy hell, what would Tennyson think of her? She was carrying their son and she was getting into a fight with an old friend less than twenty feet away from a bunch of paparazzi?

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Sophie exclaimed incredulously. As much as she wanted to defend herself and go right up to Cassandra and punch her in the goddamn face, she wouldn’t. She was pregnant, for chrissakes. Besides, there was no holding back her friends now. Noah was quick to pull her close to him, and Zane and Brooklyn were throwing insults at Cassandra.

"She's pregnant, you plastic piece of shit," Brooklyn spat out.

"Get her home—now," Daniel told Noah. "I gotta call her publicist."

"I'm sorry," Sophie choked out. A dizzy spell came over her, and she couldn’t believe she'd been goaded into a bitch fit like this.

"Don’t even…" Daniel shook his head grimly. "I get it, darling. Trust me. But we gotta get you out of here now, and I'll do my best to clean up. Okay?"

She didn’t argue.

All the way home, she sat stock-still in the car, terrified of the outcome. The media was going to have a field day. It would be a while before it settled. Rumors would fly. Theories. Assumptions. Name-calling. Sophie was back to being a spotlight seeker, and this time she was carrying a baby.

Oh, God.

She barely made it to her loft before she broke down.

Chapter 8

Tennyson couldn’t relax the following day. He'd sent a private plane to pick up Sophie at LAX, and he was there in the hangar at the private airstrip outside of San Antonio when she landed. Everything was about discretion, from smuggling her out of LA without anyone noticing, to getting her to Texas.

Daniel had called Tennyson this morning and filled him in on everything that had happened at dinner last night. Shortly after, Asher's phone had started blowing up. Meetings were canceled, new ones were made, and Sophie's travel schedule had now been cleared.

The only thing Asher requested—if Sophie felt better soon—was that she attend the premiere of
Barcelona Quarter
in New York. It was coming up soon, but Tennyson made no promises. His one and only priority in this case was the welfare of Sophie and their baby.

Tense and worried, he watched the plane taxi into the hangar. He hadn't spoken directly to Sophie yet, and she hadn't answered any of his texts. He was prepared for pretty much anything, though he took comfort in the fact she'd wanted to come here. Daniel had acted as a messenger between them, which felt ridiculous, but it only worried Tennyson more. Sophie wanted to be here, but speaking to him over the phone was out of the question?

He began walking closer as the door opened and the steps lowered to the ground. Someone in the cabin crew exited the plane first, and then it was Sophie's turn.

She looked lost and exhausted. Dressed in a hoodie Tennyson assumed belonged to Noah, given the Pittsburgh Penguins logo, and yoga pants. Hair messy and up in a bun, shadows under her blue-green eyes, no makeup.

She bit her lip, eyes glistening, and approached Tennyson warily.

He didn’t understand. "Come here, you." He pulled her in and hugged her tightly. "Why are you acting like you're waiting for me to ground you?"

"Because I fucked up." She sniffled and buried her face in his chest. "Haven't you checked the internet?"

"No, I don’t do that." He tilted up her chin and smoothed away her frown with the pad of his thumb. "You shouldn’t, either." She sighed and slumped against him, and Tennyson kissed the top of her head. "Come on. Let's get you settled at the hotel."

He wanted to say, "Let me take care of you for a while," but that was a no-go. So getting settled it was.

The film he was shooting took him away from civilization, and he rarely left the set in the middle of nowhere. But he'd gotten two days off to be there for Sophie, though he suspected he'd be on the phone a lot with his ADs. They were off with the second unit and a fuckload of extras.

"Have you slept any?" He opened the door to his rental SUV and helped Sophie in. She merely shook her head and fastened the seat belt. "Are you hungry?"

That earned him a small nod, and Tennyson scrambled his brain for suggestions as he grabbed her bag and put it in the back. Then he got in behind the wheel and started the engine.

"I'm guessing you want privacy." He backed out of the large hangar and followed the signs directing him to the exit of the airstrip. "No restaurant?"

"No, no peopleing," she whined. "Don’t make me people, Tennyson."

He chuckled and made a turn for the nearest interstate. "Understood. Wanna just order in?"

"Yes, please. Kiddo wants mozzarella sticks and grapes."

"As a combination?" He couldn’t help but cringe. "Never mind. Anything you want." He'd learned that was the safest answer to a pregnant woman.

Sophie was here to unwind. Daniel had told Tennyson she'd been inconsolable last night, to the point where she'd gotten sick. She wanted out of LA for a bit, and she'd gotten a few days off from work. There was no way Tennyson would jeopardize her peace of mind. He was only glad she'd wanted to come to "overrated" Texas.

She could've picked any destination in the world.

*

Considering there were two bedrooms in Tennyson's suite, he hadn't even thought about booking an extra room for Sophie. The hotel was packed to the max with the film crew anyway, but it didn’t seem to matter. Sophie didn’t appear to have counted on her own room.

"Thanks for letting me crash here for a few days." She jumped up and popped a kiss to his cheek as he dropped her bag on her bed. "Mind if I take a shower?"

"Of course not. Our food should be here soon, too." He removed his ball cap and ran a hand through his hair. "Let me know if there's anything you need." He gave her a smile before exiting her room, and he did a quick survey of the living room area of the suite. With notebooks, flash drives, and stacks of DVD cases everywhere, he figured a quick cleanup was in order.

The poorly labeled DVDs ended up in his room. He'd have his on-set PA sort them later because they held footage Tennyson wanted to go through again.

When there was a knock on the door, he abandoned the tidying and went to answer it. The two guys from the hotel staff didn’t question the strange order, but Tennyson tipped them well, regardless. Two pizzas, one burger combo, a fruit plate, mozzarella sticks, and a few desserts made for one large order of takeout. The food came from three different places, to boot.

"Thanks, guys." He closed the door after they'd left, and he shook his head, amused by the sight. The table in the living room was filled with all the food Sophie had said she craved. But he had a feeling she wouldn’t touch a tenth of it.

It beat having her cranky, though.

Besides, Tennyson enjoyed doting on her.

"Oh my God." Sophie stood in the doorway to her bedroom, eyes wide and trained on the food. She was only wearing a hotel robe, and her hair was damp from her shower. "I went overboard, didn’t I?"

Tennyson smirked faintly and shrugged. "I have a feeling the others on this floor are willing to take whatever you don’t eat." His assistant directors, script supervisor, and a few others would probably be starving when they returned later tonight.

Taking his seat on one of the two couches, he flipped open the lid of the box to his pizza. "Sit. Eat."

"Yes, sir." She snickered softly and plopped down next to him. "I don’t know where to start." She went for the fruit plate and a slice of pizza first. "Anyway, how're you liking your film crew? You didn’t get to handpick them this time, did you?"

No, for the first time in years, Tennyson was a studio puppet like the rest of them, and it fucking blew. "The second AD is a godsend, but the first could go fuck himself. If I didn’t love the script, I'd be breaking all kinds of contracts to get out of the project."

The script was also the reason he'd agreed to join in the first place. It was a challenge to work with a large cast, not to mention so many producers he barely even knew half of them.

"You miss Noah?" Sophie smiled sympathetically.

He nodded and chewed a mouthful of pepperoni pizza. "You could say that. I miss handpicking. I miss being the puppet master."

She giggled and patted his knee. "You poor thing."

Tennyson made no excuses. He was a director for a reason; he'd been hired because the studio wanted
his
version of the film. Yet, every day when the dailies were shipped off, he had to wait for approval. He was used to having the dailies sent to the producers, of course, but it was more of a formality. He knew what he was doing, goddammit.

"What about you?" He picked up another slice. "How is it being a French fry in a recording studio?"

"It's
fun
." She smiled widely and bit off a bit from her mozzarella stick. By now, she had four containers opened. "No endless hours in makeup and wardrobe, less waiting."

Tennyson chuckled. Back in college, he'd shared a dorm room with a guy who wanted to be an actor. A professor had told his roommate,
"Theater hurts and there's a long line. You'll sit around and do nothing more than you'll ever act."

"Actors have it easy. Try being a director. Never a quiet moment."

Sophie let out a guffaw. "Said the famous director on his day off."

He grinned.
Touché.
"These aren't normal circumstances, brat."

Damn, he loved how easy it was between them now. Getting to know Sophie on a more personal level was a high, and the few weeks they'd had in LA before he came here had been full of discoveries.

She was growing up before his eyes, and he admired her strength and determination immensely. And unlike what she had feared regarding yesterday, Tennyson was only glad she'd stood up for herself. He didn’t think it had backfired at all. The media attention was the only thing he wished she could get rid of.

"I'm so full." Sophie slumped back on the couch after one pizza slice, a couple mozzarella sticks, and a handful of grapes. "
Ugh
. I can't reach my ginger ale."

Tennyson grabbed it for her and then leaned back to feel up her belly. It was showing more and more with every day that passed, it seemed. Unfortunately, his phone interrupted him at that moment, but he didn’t leave the room.

"What's up, Carl?" He placed the phone between his shoulder and cheek so he could feel his boy moving inside Sophie.

"We're on the fifth take of the explosion scene," his first AD told him. "We have everything leading up to Micah's death, but I'm not satisfied with his family's reactions. It has to be stronger."

"Okay, so tell the actors that." Tennyson didn’t see the issue, or why Carl was calling. "They aced it during rehearsals. Remind them."

"It's getting dark."

Tennyson rolled his eyes, understanding now. Carl wanted permission to wrap for the day. "Then I suggest you get back to work. Some changes in the light can be taken care of in post-production. Unless the actors are stressed out, there's no reason you can't manage a couple more takes."

Sophie grinned and mouthed, "Hardass," to him.

He winked at her.

"Roger that," Carl muttered and hung up.

Tennyson sighed and threw the phone on the table. "We're only weeks into the production and I'm already wishing it could be over." Tired and with a headache settling in, he lay down and rested his head on Sophie's thigh. It brought him close to her baby bump, and he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against it. "I can't wait to meet the little one."

Sophie hummed and poked his bearded cheek. "Maybe while I'm here, we can find a name." That would be great. "Too bad Flynn's out. I like that one." It was Tennyson's turn to hum, and it became one of pleasure as she began weaving her fingers through his hair. "We should decide on guardians, too."

"Ash and Brooklyn," Tennyson suggested through a yawn. "Or Daniel. I'd love for it to be my brother, but he's better with dogs than children."

Sophie laughed quietly. "Well, Daniel would be honored, and Brooklyn is a good choice. She's taught me a lot. And I'm sure we can include Asher somehow. Does he have a cute middle name? Actually, while we're on the subject, what's
your
middle name?"

Tennyson wrinkled his nose. "My middle name is out—Kip."

He heard Sophie's spluttered giggle. "
Kip
?"

He grinned sleepily. "My mother was on a poetry streak when she was pregnant with me, and I suffered for it. Tennyson after Lord Tennyson and Kip after Rudyard Kipling."

"Aww, but I adore your name." She scratched his scalp gently. "But what about Asher?"

"Kayden," Tennyson replied. "He was named after fictional characters, both from random hippie novels. I believe my father shot down a whole list of Shadow, Winter, and Moon Beam. Asher and Kayden were two of the few normal-sounding names."

Sophie laughed before she smiled widely. "I
like
Kayden."

Tennyson would have to think about it, but it didn’t sound half bad. "Kayden." He tested it out. "Maybe…" Ash would certainly get a kick out of it. "I think I like it."

"We'll put it on the list." Sophie tapped his temple. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta pee. But my bladder's had a good time fangirling over being used as a pillow by Tennyson Kip Wright."

He let out a gruff laugh and helped her up, only to collapse down on the couch again. After being so tense all day waiting for Sophie to get here, he was finally able to relax. He hoped to speak to her about everything—get her take on it—but it could wait until tomorrow.

*

Tennyson woke up the next morning to a quiet hotel suite. Sophie was still sleeping, and when he returned from the gym downstairs, nothing had changed. He showered, ordered breakfast, spoke to his assistant directors, suffered through two Skype meetings with the producers and the studio, and then finally gave Sophie's door a knock.

"M'sleepy," was her groggy answer.

Tennyson chuckled quietly and walked away. At least she was alive and well. After finishing his meal, he retreated to his bedroom to catch up on some work.

It was approximately an hour later when Sophie trailed into his bedroom with her duvet wrapped around her. She was a waddling little meatball, and she was nibbling on a waffle. Her hair was all over the place.

"Morning." She collapsed down on the bed next to Tennyson.

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