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He paused to look at Bree. She was curled up in the chair on the other side of the hearth, listening intently. It was easy talking to her. It always had been. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed that until this moment. He hadn’t had any long, meaningful conversations that weren’t about the business in quite a while.
“Her contract ended with this last album. It didn’t do well. Her single barely cracked the Top 40. I wasn’t happy with her, but she wasn’t interested in anyone’s opinion. It wasn’t until I told her manager I wasn’t going to renew her contract that she came around. Suddenly, she was all rainbows and sunshine.”
That should’ve been his first clue. “One night she came in after hours. No one was there but me by then. It was nearly nine. She brought a sack of hand-rolled sushi and a bottle of premium sake. Missy said it was a peace offering. While we ate, she apologized for the way she’d acted. She was attentive, she was sweet and, before I knew it, the bottle of sake was empty and she was in my arms.”
“She’s smarter than she looks,” Bree said.
“She definitely has a head for business, and I’m pretty sure our relationship is just business to her. She’s certainly sold every moment to the press. To me, it was just a mistake I couldn’t quite untangle myself from. I asked her over for dinner one night, fully intending to break it off. It had only been a few weeks, but it just wasn’t working for me. She’d gone back to her old diva ways and nothing made up for that. The words were on the tip of my tongue when she told me she wanted to give me a present. Wrapped in a box with a shiny bow was the positive pregnancy test.”
“Wow” was Bree’s only response.
“I don’t know how it happened. I’d taken every precaution. You remember how militant I was about using protection. But as Missy says, it must be meant to be. So we’re getting married.”
Bree studied him, the flickering flames of the fireplace dancing light and shadow across her face. “You know you don’t have to marry her. You can still be a part of your child’s life without marrying his or her mother.”
At that, Ian vehemently shook his head. “You know that’s not an option, Bree. Even if I financially supported our child and spent every moment I could with him or her, it wouldn’t be the same. I want to do what’s right for my child. I’m not going to be like my father and walk away from my responsibilities.”
“How happy of a family will you be if you don’t love his mother?”
Ian slammed back the rest of his wine. “Missy is having my child. We’re getting married. End of story.”
Four
“The internet isn’t working.”
Bree was admiring the wooden beams of the vaulted ceiling when Ian made his announcement. When the sun went down, she decided she was done worrying about work and their awkward circumstances. She was going to make the best of this situation. She’d gotten her camera out of her bag and started taking pictures of the beautiful details in the cabin. The craftsmanship that had gone into building this place was unbelievable. Ian had come a long, long way from the small, run-down apartment he’d grown up in.
She turned to find Ian checking the router and growling at it. From across the room she could see the lights weren’t flashing like they should be. “It isn’t? It was working a little while ago.”
She watched him get up and walk over to the phone. He picked it up, listened for a moment and then put it down with a curse. “That’s why. The phones are out. I have DSL out here.”
“At least we still have our cell phones,” Bree said brightly. “And power.” With this storm and the low temperatures, power was critical. She was going to recommend they bring in some wood for the fireplace just in case the electricity went out in the night.
Ian eyed her, significantly less optimistic about their circumstances than she was. He walked back to his computer, grumbling the whole way. Bree returned to taking pictures of the hand-carved mantel around the fireplace and the painting she thought might be an actual Rembrandt mounted over it.
“You have got to be kidding me!” she heard him shout after a few seconds.
“What’s the matter?”
He took a deep breath and tossed his phone onto the granite countertop. “I’ve got no bars, no data. Nothing. It hasn’t rung for over an hour, but I thought maybe things were just quiet at the office tonight. I hope the storm didn’t take out the cell tower. Is your phone working?”
Bree went to her purse and pulled out her phone. “No bars,” she confirmed, looking at the grainy black and gray screen.
“What about data?”
She shook her head. “I have a dumb phone. Top of the line circa 2003. No games, no apps, no internet. I’m lucky it has a camera, although I wouldn’t dare take a picture with it. The quality is terrible.”
Ian looked at her as though she had sprouted a second head. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I only have this one, really, because Natalie insisted she be able to get in touch with me for work. It’s her old Motorola RAZR. I like it. It’s pink.”
“You have a flip phone with no internet. Hell, that thing doesn’t even have a keypad, does it?”
“No. But that’s okay because I don’t text.”
Ian ran his fingers through his hair. “What planet are you from? Seriously
, I think you’re the only person I know under the age of seventy that doesn’t at least have a phone with the ability to get on the internet.”
