I just hope I can be what he needs.
Chapter 25
Ashlyn
“What did I tell you?”Demi asks as we walk into Flora Coffee Shop. It’s a sunny morning. If there’s anything consistent about California, it’s the weather. But honestly, I don’t hate it. Rain makes my hair frizzy.
“You tell me a lot of things,” I say as we get in line. I guess that’s another reliably consistent thing about California. You can always count on every coffee shop to have a line, no matter what time of day you visit.
“You know what I’m talking about,” she says, and I roll my eyes. “Dating a celebrity isn’t everything you hoped and dreamed, and that’s okay. No one would blame you if you walked away right at the height of it all. That’s what I did.”
And she did. When the time came for her to eliminate one of the final two guys on the show, she decided to pack her bags and walk out alone, leaving them confused and heartbroken. Viewers lost their minds, but she held her head high, confident in her decision. That is until she got home and swore off men forever.
“It’s not just that, though, Demi. I’m getting used to the limelight shit, as much as I hate to admit it,” I say as we slowly get closer to the counter. “It’s the baby. He was crying and cold and hungry, and it just broke my heart.”
I’m getting choked up just talking about it, and I know Demi can see it. “Have you ever thought about going back?” she asks.
“Going back where?” I ask.
“To Bumblebee,” she says, referring to the daycare I worked at.
“It doesn’t pay enough,” I say.
“And hit and miss paparazzi photos do?” she asks. “I’m not trying to be mean, Ash. I’m really not, but at least you enjoyed that job.”
“I enjoy photography too,” I tell her.
“Yeah. Photography as an art, not a scandal,” she says.
“Is there anything else about my life you want to throw under a magnifying glass?” I ask as we approach the counter. We both order two seasonal iced lattes and head outside to find a table.
“I’m sorry,” she says with a smile as she pulls her oversized sunglasses from her hair and slides them on her face. “Let’s talk about this baby. People are saying he’s yours.”
“I heard that,” I say, shaking my head.
“He’s not, right?” She asks, and I nearly choke on my coffee. “I’m kidding! But for real. He’s got custody?”
“For now,” I say as I stir my coffee.
“God, you really are living a reality TV show,” she says. “It must be nice being around a baby again.”
“I mean, I don’t hate it,” I admit. “It’s a little triggering, too. It’s like every time I hold a baby or even hear one cry; it’s a reminder of what I’ll never have,” I say.
“Awe come on, don’t say never,” she says. “You have to be hopeful.”
“Mitch and I tried for over a year and not so much as one false positive. Hope isn’t really in my vocabulary when it comes to the subject of motherhood anymore, Demi,” I say, but she just smiles.
“Well then, I’ll do all the hoping for you. And in the meantime, I think you should enjoy being around the baby and Zane. It’s not a bad gig playing girlfriend and nanny,” she grins.
Nanny. Right. What’s next?
* * *
The sound of the baby’s crying escapes through the windows, and I can hear him wailing even before I open the front door to Zane’s house. Normally, that would scare people off because normal people don’t want to deal with a screaming baby. I’m not normal, and I open the door eagerly.
“Oh good, you’re home,” Zane calls from the kitchen. “I need some help.”
I walk through the foyer slowly with my mouth hanging open. Zane is usually very tidy, but this place is a mess! I push past boxes of diapers and step around laundry baskets with clothes falling over the sides. Oh boy, it seems Zane is in over his headhere because this mess doesn’t resemble anything close to the house I walked in that first night.
