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“He wanted you to get pregnant? To what end?”
“So that there’d be a Caldwell to eventually take over at West Coast Records.”
“Do you hear how insane that sounds?”
“I’ve been living with this for the last year and a half.” Savannah’s strength was draining. She crumpled into a nearby chair and put her hands in her lap. “I was the one he duped. How do you think I feel?”
“You don’t think we’re both victims in this?”
Trent paced away toward the terrace and stood with his back to her. He remained as still as a statue for a long time until he finally asked, “Were you ever planning on informing me Dylan is my son?”
She should have been better prepared for this question. As it was, she’d spent all her time worrying about what the fallout for her and Dylan would be if—when—Trent learned the truth.
“To what end?” Her response might have been harsh, but Trent had made his opinion clear. “You never wanted to be part of a family. Rafe did.”
“You had no right making that decision for me.” Trent turned to face her. His expression was bleak.
Remembering how that final conversation with him had gone, Savannah hardened her heart. “That last morning we were together, you told me you had no time or energy for anything but the club.”
“And at that particular moment I didn’t. We’d been open barely six months and every day there was something new going wrong. We’d made a huge investment and in order to make it pay off, I had to give it a hundred and ten percent.”
“I heard that loud and clear. You didn’t have time for me. Why would I think you would have time for me and our child?”
“You should have told me,” he insisted.
Savannah refused to regret the decision she’d made. Loving Trent had led to heartache. Marrying Rafe had seemed a safe and sensible alternative.
“You know now,” she said, her strength returning as she settled on a course of action. Savannah got to her feet and headed toward him. “You have a son, Trent. What do you intend to do about it?”
She’d never challenged him directly before. Her question was born of frustration and longing. More than anything she needed him to step up and demand to be in Dylan’s life. To be part of her life.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I need some time to think.”
She barely registered the disappointment that washed through her. His answer didn’t surprise her at all. “You know, nothing about your life needs to change the least bit,” she told him. “Something’s going to break for me in LA. In fact, I just found out I have to head back there tomorrow.”
“Already?”
“My agent is excited about my acting prospects. She was able to line up another audition. It looks like my future is there.”
Maybe she’d look for a rental. It hurt to give up her plans for buying a house in Las Vegas and living near Trent, but he didn’t appear as if he was going to step up and be Dylan’s father.
“Your future?” he echoed. “You’re not going to stay in Las Vegas?”
The question gave her the opening she needed to ask what was burning in her heart. “Do you want us to stay? Dylan needs a father. I...” She sucked in a breath for strength before putting it all out there. “I need you. I always have.”
Trent’s features turned to stone. “You can’t expect—”
“No.” Between one heartbeat and the next, Savannah embraced Courtney Day. The character gave her the dignity to speak mildly and conceal her anguish. “I don’t expect. And that’s why I’m leaving. Moving to LA is practical. I’ll be closer for auditions and meetings.” When Trent didn’t say anything, Savannah rushed on. “I need to pack. I’ll be by later to say goodbye.”
And before she was overwhelmed by the sobs tearing at her throat, she left him.
* * *
Outrage consumed Trent as he watched Savannah pick Dylan up and walk away with her head held at a defiant angle. He couldn’t get past how many times she had looked him in the eye and let him believe Dylan was Rafe’s son. And then today she’d acted as if by keeping the truth hidden she’d done him some sort of favor.
Realizing his hands were clenched into fists, Trent shook his arms to release the tension. But nothing could unravel the knot in his chest. He headed for his room and grabbed a quick shower. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep, so he headed back to the club.
In the months following his breakup with Savannah, Trent had thrown himself into making Club T’s into the go-to spot on the Strip. Besides having a killer lineup of DJs, he was constantly looking at ways to improve service and ambience. He had a list of things he wanted to upgrade, including the lighting and sound.
