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Whenever she was at home, she’d be locked off in the office he’d arranged for her and would be dead to the world, except when the housekeeper knocked on the door to bring her something to eat.
So, she supposed it was during that time, things were brought up and put away without her noticing. He didn’t miss a detail. There were sweaters in every color, folded neatly on shelves and not to mention the soft leather boots that she couldn’t fault.
"When am I going to wear all of these?" She muttered, touching a boot made of the finest and softest leather, in buttercup yellow.
"We’ll find places to go. There’re always functions to attend." Taking her hand, he led her out and nudged her to the vanity. "We’re running out of time."
"And my hair!"
"Leave it loose." He advised.
"I don't-" With a shrug, she picked up the brush and decided to do just that.
*****
The ballroom of the Regent Hotel was overflowing with people when they arrived. This wasn’t their first outing as a couple, and the others had been met with excitement and too much attention by the press.
She’d seen the articles in the various magazines and had chosen to ignore it, even when her agent had called spilling over with excitement that she was seeing Brady Randall.
"You’re one secretive bitch."
"My personal life is nobody's business." She’d stated firmly. There was no way she was going to reveal she was pregnant. It would come out eventually, but until then, it was being kept under wraps.
"It's quite a crowd." She murmured as they made their way through the throng of people. She’d been brought up in the public eye, being the only child of a famous actress and a well-known lawyer hadn’t made it possible for her to fade into the background.
To her mother's credit, she’d kept her away from the sharks as much as she was able to.
When it became clear she wasn’t going to follow in her famous mother's footsteps, the press had more or less left her alone, something she was grateful for. Now, they’d picked up again, since she was with Brady.
"Oh, look, if it isn't Clara." She murmured dryly as the svelte and nosy talk-show host made her way towards them. "I need a drink."
"No drinking."
"I can have a glass of champagne."
"One glass."
"Yes, Mother." She muttered dryly as the waiter came forward with the tray.
"Darlings!" Clara greeted them enthusiastically as if they were her long-lost friends who she hadn’t seen in ages. She air-kissed them Hollywood style on both cheeks, actually pressing herself against Brady and bringing out the urge in Macayla to slap her across her face.
"I was just talking to your darling mother and saying I’d love to get you and this delicious man of yours on my show."
"We’ll see." Macayla painted a smile on her lips as she gave the woman her attention. "We’ve been busy-"
"You’re living together. How sweet is that?" Curious green eyes watched them closely. "Your parents are together and I have to admit they make an adorable couple, and now the two of you! Isn't it kind of incestuous?"
"Not at all and, even if it were, we wouldn’t give a damn." Brady gave her a cool look that had her stepping back. "Please excuse us, will you?" Without waiting to find out if she was through, he purposefully led Macayla past her and toward the crowd surrounding her Mom and his Dad.
"Nicely done." She murmured with a smile.
"The woman is a pain in the ass and a hopeless gossip."
“I hate this.” She whispered. “How do you handle this on a daily basis?”
Lifting their joined hands, he kissed her knuckles. “It takes a lot of practice.” His green eyes twinkled. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Not in this lifetime. Mom.” Tugging her hand away, she went into Michelle’s fragrant embrace with a smile. “Love the dress.”
