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“This isn’t funny, son,” his dad snapped.
“You think I find this funny?” Flynn laughed. It wasn’t pretty. “This is my life. There’s nothing funny about it. I’ve got people crawling out of the woodwork to use me as a stepping stone to get what they want. I’m tied into shooting a tabloid documentary loosely disguised as sports TV. My agent isn’t taking my calls. He did record a special message just for me. It was two words. One began with F. There’s a woman in professional makeup on my lawn and she’s using a baby to get airtime. Abby closed the door on me and probably won’t let me back in. She’s upset and she won’t even talk to me. My leg hurts like a mother. My career is over. My reputation is mud. I have no idea what to do with my life. And I’m trying damn hard to be good!”
Aye. So. He’d lost his cool. Fine. They could cope with it. Right? He scanned the astonished faces staring at him and wondered if he should move. Far away. Somewhere where family couldn’t find him. Somewhere away from film crews. From gold diggers. Somewhere out of reach from his past. Like Neverland.
“Got it.” Harry punched the air then grinned at everyone. “What’d I miss?” he said when he saw the stunned silence.
“Nothing.” Flynn hobbled over to his brother. “What you got?”
Harry pointed at the screen. “Everything you ever wanted to know about Susan Muir.”
“Who?” Flynn couldn’t sit. He was too wired to sit. But standing made his leg ache. He resisted the urge to bend over and rub his knee. Instead he folded his arms, gritted his teeth and focused on Harry.
“The woman in your yard. Susan Muir. She’s twenty-five, she loves the spotlight and she’s better known as Peaches—from her stint as a Page Three girl.” Harry looked up at his family. “Do they still have Page Three girls?”
“Unfortunately, some papers still think topless women are news,” Magenta said dryly. “We protested against them a few years ago, didn’t we?” She grinned at her two best friends, Flynn’s twin cousins.
“Yep. We made placards and picketed the head office in London. We demanded the paper print men with their junk hanging out on page two.” Megan shrugged. “Seemed only fair.”
“Megan wanted to do the protest topless, but we wouldn’t let her,” Claire added.
Flynn stared at the women before addressing his father. “And you think I’m out of control?”
“Back to the issue,” Harry said. “Peaches is currently filming her own reality show about life after Page Three. She’s also written a book.” He read some more as he grinned. “It’s a novel called Tits Up.”
Matt frowned at Harry. “What else?”
“Birth dates.” His fingers flew over the keyboard before he sat back with a smirk on his face. “Flynn isn’t the father.”
“I told you this already.” Flynn threw up his hands. “Doesn’t anybody listen to me?”
His family proved his point by ignoring him.
“According to the dates”—Harry pointed at the screen—“Flynn here was in training camp during the time of conception and the lovely Peaches was filming another reality show in Ibiza. For months, they weren’t even in the same country. There’s no way he could be the baby’s father.”
“Is anyone listening to me?” Flynn was too sore to stand anymore. He pulled out a chair beside Harry and sat down hard. “The woman turned up with a camera crew. The producer from my show was smirking in the background. It doesn’t take a genius to figure this out. The guy is pissed I’m not doing anything to make his programme more interesting, so he’s stirring things up.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Look,” he said on a sigh. “I’m not proud of it, but I’m used to this sort of thing. I know how to handle it. I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about Abby.”
Claire faked fainting. The back of her hand hit her forehead as she swayed before flopping onto the couch behind her. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said to her grinning fiancé. “For a minute there I thought Flynn said he was worried about someone other than himself. I must have been hallucinating, because that can’t be right.”
Magenta and Megan thought that was hilarious. Flynn didn’t. “Abby’s sister is still in town. This new crew filmed Abby’s reaction to my alleged child. This could harm her and the kid. We can’t let it get out. Like I said, I tried calling my agent. I’m getting nothing.”
“You need to fire him,” Harry said. “He isn’t good for you or your career.”
“That’s a moot point now, considering I don’t have a football career for him to manage.”
“I’ll talk to Mitch,” Matt said. “He’ll sort this.” He pulled out his phone and pointed at Flynn with it. “You’re paying his fee.”
“Whatever.” Flynn rolled his eyes. “Just make sure Abby is protected.”
“There it is again,” Claire said dramatically. “I’m definitely hearing things. I think I’m ill. I could have sworn I heard Flynn say he was looking out for someone else.”
Flynn ignored the laughter. This wasn’t a joke. He needed to protect Abby and clean house before his screwed up life caused any more problems for her.
Before Matt hung up on Mitch, Flynn motioned for the phone.
“I need help,” he told the lawyer.
“From what I hear, you’re asking the wrong person. But I can recommend a good shrink.”
