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“So you aretheSofia from the song?” she asks, her eyes boring holes at Addy’s back.
I smile. “Guilty,” I say. “At least, I think I am.”
“And the baby...is Bren’s?”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “I think you should talk with Bren. It feels a bit...odd, being the intermediary.”
Emma nods. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure why I’m here. My agent called me to warn me of an oncoming media circus headed my way, and I was on my way from New York to LA for work.” Emma’s eyes glisten, and the tip of her nose turns red, but she sniffs back her tears. “I guess I needed to know if it was true that Bren has had a baby with someone. And, well, I guess he did.” She laughs then, trying to play off the hurt.
I stand there for a long moment, unsure of what to do.
“I really messed things up with Bren,” Emma says. “And he’s one of the good ones. It’s clearly too late for us now.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say,” I admit.
She laughs again, though she lets a tear out, wiping it swiftly away. “Are you together now? One big happy family?”
I look away from her. I know why she is asking. She wants him back. But the truth is, I have no idea what we are. Since he has learned about Addy, Bren and I have slept in the same bed, but it’s been platonic. Though we have never discussed it, part of me thinks he is waiting for the paternity test before committing to a relationship with all this baggage. I don’t push the matter because I understand his apprehension, but damn it! That has left us standing on uncertain ground, and I have no idea how to answer Emma. “I’m sorry,” I say finally. “But you should really talk to Bren. He’s a very private person, and he has the right to decide how much to tell you. I shouldn’t get in the way of that.”
She nods, almost approving of my answer. “May I look at her?” Emma asks.
I turn Addy around in my arms so she can face her, and Emma takes a few steps toward her. Addy giggles and wiggles in my arms. “I think she thinks you’re my friend Lola,” I tell Emma. “She has long blond hair too, though hers is curly. I wouldn’t get too close if I were you. She likes pulling on Lola’s hair.”
Emma smiles sweetly at my daughter. “She has Bren’s eyes,” she says, and I smile at her. “I don’t think I’ll wait after all. Say hi to him for me, will you?”
“I’ll tell him you stopped by.”
Then Emma’s eyes lock with mine. “He’s one of the good ones—the best one. If you let him go a second time, I don’t plan on giving him up again.”
Once she is gone, I realize she said ‘again.’ Emma knew about me before the media got wind of me. Bren told her about me. She knew I broke his heart, and she is warning me not to do it again.
THIRTY-FOUR
Bren
When we wrap up our meeting with the producers, Fritz and I head back to my penthouse, and his eyes grow wide at the sight of a beautiful young blond sitting on my couch.
“Lola, right?” I say as we walk up to her.
She does a doubletake, then shoots up to her feet to greet us. “Yeah. Nice to see you again, Bren.”
“Where’s Sofia?”
“Putting Addy down for the night.”
“Right. Oh, this is—”
“Fritz. Yeah. I know,” Lola says, then clears her throat. “Sorry, Friedrich.”
Fritz takes her hand and eyes her carefully. “Fritz, please,” he says.
“Want a beer, Fritz?” I ask him.
He nods but says nothing. I walk toward the kitchen as I yell behind me to ask Lola if she wants anything, but Sofia is back and nearly yelling at Fritz and me.
“She’s not old enough to drink a beer,” she snaps. “Fritz! One word: Jailbait.”
I shake my head and snicker as I join them and hand Fritz his beer. To his credit, Fritz nails his gaze to his shoes after that.
