Small Town Secret: Mayfield Springs Book 1 (7 page)

"You know," he leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear. "Last night was incredible. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been thinking about you all day."

I felt my heart race and my cheeks grow pink. Everyone was looking at us, wondering why the big star was talking to the boring waitress. And being the competitive bitches that they were, all of a sudden my end of the table was the center of attention and Chris was bombarded with questions from every direction.
 

"So Chris, what are filming right now?"
 

"Are you still single?"
 

"Is it true you were really born here?"
 

"Oh my God, I can't believe you're just you know, Cassandra's big brother. It's crazy."

The other bridesmaids were all trying desperately to get his attention, but after years of having women fall at his feet every day of his life, he dismissed them easily.
 

"Ladies, I didn't come here to be interviewed," he said firmly. "If you don't mind, I was just catching up with an old friend here, and we were having a private conversation."
 

It was obvious the girls weren't used to being treated so dismissively, and they blushed as a group. I wasn't sure whether it was from embarrassment; anger at being ignored; or just plain old jealousy that Chris was talking to me.
 

"Ignore them, Amy," Chris said, once the group was out of earshot. "They're just rich little bitches who've done nothing but inherit their father's money."
 

For a moment there was silence as we lingered in each other's gaze. I wanted nothing more than for him to kiss me but that would be impossible while we were sitting at a group dinner. Even so, the sexual tension between us was palpable. Chris parted his lips as if he was about to say something, but before he got the chance, someone began tapping their glass for silence. We turned to see Daniel standing at the head of the table, his ego reigning supreme over his wedding guest minions.
 

"Arrogant jerk," Chris mumbled under his breath. "I could have strangled him last night."

"Same," I leaned into him. "I would pay good money to slap him."

We shared a conspiratorial look before the groom began to talk.
 

"I just wanted to thank you all for being here," Daniel said, flashing his bleached white teeth in a luminous smile. "I've become acquainted with some of you already," he said looking directly down the table at me. I glared at him, and he looked away and turned to his future wife, sitting at the head of the table beside him. "And we can we all agree how beautiful my lovely bride-to-be is?"

There was a polite round of applause from the wedding party, now seated around the table. "These guys are about as much fun as a sack of potatoes," I whispered to Chris. "You're telling me. Society people are just the worst," he replied.
 

We looked at each other wryly in a moment of shared disdain for our company. After a few minutes of Daniel talking, mostly about himself, it was time for dinner. The waiters came out with giant plates filled with the tiniest portions of food. Little stacks of vegetables were cut into intricate designs and covered in minuscule droplets of a mysterious looking sauce.
 

"So... is everyone in New York starving all the time?" I asked everyone at the table, trying to make conversation.
 

No one answered. The other bridesmaids simpered and smiled their fakest smiles as they moved the food around their plate, leaving most of it uneaten.
 

It didn't bother me. If they didn't want to make conversation, then I'd just talk to Chris. I poured another glass of wine for Chris, and as he took it from me, he said, "Can I ask you something very personal?"

"I guess," I said hesitantly, not sure what was coming.

"You never told me you had a daughter."

Well, at least it was out in the open now, I thought with an inward sigh of relief.
 

"I never had the chance to tell you," I responded. "I mean seriously...you turned up at the diner out of the blue; then you arrived at my house at midnight. I couldn't exactly wake her up in the middle of the night and introduce you to her."

"I guess not," he shrugged. "I just wish I knew."

"Why? Would it have made a difference?" I genuinely wanted to know.
 

"No, I don't think so...It just came as a big surprise," he replied before asking,
 
"So, are you still with her father?"

I was taken aback and nearly choked on my mouthful of food. I hadn't been prepared for Chris to ask me that question.

"Well, Mr. Chris, now you are getting a little too personal," I said jokingly. "But the answer is - no, I'm not. I'm not with anyone right now."

I thought he seemed to smile a little at that answer. Or did I imagine his smile because I so desperately wanted to be with him again?

"I'm pleased for you," he continued. He clearly thought about what he'd just said and how it could be interpreted. "Um. That didn't come out quite right. I didn't mean I was pleased you were single. I meant I'm pleased that you're a mother. I always thought I'd like to have kids one day."

I balled my fists up and dug my fingernails into the palm of my hand to make sure I didn't blurt out,
She's yours! Chris, you're her father
. I wanted to say it so much, wanted to yell it to the entire room, but I sat in silence and politely nodded.

"Thanks," I said calmly, while my knuckles were turning white beneath the table. "I'm sure you'll have children someday."

"I hope so." He drained his glass. "Have you got any photos?"

"Uh?"

"Of your daughter?"

I hesitated for a moment, terrified that if he saw her face, he'd know in an instant that he was looking into his own eyes. She looked so much like him, with her thick, silky, blonde hair and dazzling smile. But something made me take the risk. Pulling my phone out, I showed him my screensaver. It was Bella, just after a bath wrapped up in her favorite ducky towel. Her eyes shone brightly through the strands of wet hair that covered her face.
 

"Aaaaw, she's a real cutie," he said as he handed the phone back to me.
 

"Thanks, I think so too. Bella's the loveliest little girl."

"I can see that," he said.
 
"She must take after you."
 

I looked away abashed.
 

"Erm... thanks. You should meet her sometime."

Oh God, why did I say that? What was I thinking?
 

Thankfully, Chris spied the waiters bringing out dessert and changed the subject. "I wondered what was taking so long. I'm still starving," he said looking over the top of the other guests' heads.
 

"I thought you were on a diet of raw vegetables and grass fed protein," I commented, feeling more confident after a couple of glasses of wine. I needed to be careful, if I had too much more, I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth shut.
 

"How do you know that? I didn't think you'd be one for watching my interviews," he asked.

"I watch you on TV all the time," I admitted casually.

Urgh, shut up Amy you idiot. He's just going to think you're just another starstruck fan.
 

"Well, that's kinda nice to know," he said.
 

"Really?"'

"Sure," he said placing an arm over the back of my chair. "It's nice to think that you were with me over the years of my career, in a way."

"Oh yay, dessert!" Claudette bounced up and down in her seat and clapped her hands like a three-year-old.
 

As it arrived at the table, I looked down on my plate. It looked nothing like any sweet treat I'd ever seen. It looked more like an assortment of weird nuts and brown stuff.
 

"Mmmmm..." Claudette tucked in. "It's raw chocolate," she said with the air of a chocolate connoisseur. "Definitely raw with cold pressed orange extract."

"Yes, I think so too," chimed in one of the other bridesmaids. "It's divine, and I love the hemp seeds and Medjool dates."

As the bridesmaids virtually orgasmed over their superfood dessert, I nibbled on the nuts and wondered what all the fuss was. I wanted a goddamn cheesecake, preferably with a lot of whipped cream on top, not some macrobiotic concoction invented for fussy New York pseudo-yogis.
 

I pushed my plate towards Chris. "You can have mine."

"Awesome," he said, tucking in. "I really shouldn't you know, but I'm off duty I guess. I'll hit the gym as soon as I'm home."

Of course, Chris would be leaving again. When I was with him, it was easy to forget that he wasn't going to stay in Mayfield Springs forever.
 

"When are you going home?" I asked, trying to sound as casually interested as possible.
 

"In a couple of days," he said, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "Filming starts again on Thursday."

"Oh." Of course, he wouldn't be staying for long, and he wouldn't be interested in anything long-term with me. I had known that from the outset, but since last night a tiny piece of me had hoped that wouldn't be the case. I felt like crying as any dreams I'd had since the previous night of a reconciliation evaporated.
 

"And next month we're shooting in Australia, so I've got a long few weeks ahead of me making sure that everything we need to shoot here is finished before we head to Oz."

"Yeah, sure. Of course," I said, acting as if talking about blockbuster movie schedules was the most normal thing in the world.
 

"So how's work with you?" Chris asked.
 

The question seemed almost like an insult as if he wasn't really interested in me and was just making polite conversation.
Why did Chris ask me that? He knew how terrible it was working in the diner. He saw me in there last night, didn't he?

"It's ok," I said as I fiddled with my napkin. "Actually," I turned to him. "That's a lie. It's terrible;
 
just really, really crap. It pays minimum wage, and I have to work my ass off just to be able to cover the basics for Bella and me." My voice rose in volume as I spoke and I noticed the girls at the other end of the table listening to me. I didn't care what they thought anymore; I was sure they thought I was a loser country bumpkin anyway, so I didn't stop talking. I just spoke louder.
 

"Yeah, that's right. Some of us have to work for a living. We can't just go to fancy parties and expect to have the world handed to us."

They exchanged pained looks between themselves as if I was a lunatic.
 

"Amy," Chris interrupted. "It's ok; you don't have to talk about work. We can talk about anything else. How's Bella? What's her favorite show on TV?"

"No," I said throwing my napkin on the table. "I want to talk about it. I work until late at night, six days a week and my sixty-year-old mom babysits for me. In fact, tonight and tomorrow night are the only nights I've had off for ages, and I had to get down and beg for those nights off. And I could only get them off on the condition that I pull a double shift next week. I get talked to like shit from just about every customer. If they're not rude, they're trying to get me into bed. But the worst thing about it is that Bella thinks I'm staying away from her on purpose. She doesn't understand that I work so many hours because I need to pay to look after her."
 
I dropped my face into my hands and broke out into sobs.

Chris leaned over and put his arm around me. "Amy," he whispered gently. "Maybe we should go outside for a moment. I think you might have had a little too much to drink."

I raised my tear-streaked face and looked at him angrily. "Don't you tell me what to do, Chris Taylor. You have no right to cast any judgment on my life."
 

"I'm afraid," I stood up and grabbed my things, "that I'm going to go home now. Goodnight. You've all been just awful," I slurred. "See you at the wedding," I said as I stormed out.
 

I could hear Chris chasing behind me. As I reached the front steps, I felt his hands on my shoulders. I shrugged them off angrily.
 

"Amy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I was just looking out for you that's all. I know that your life is incredibly hard, and I shouldn't have asked you about it."

I flinched and pulled myself away.

"I'm fine. Just going home," I said, as I fished for my keys in my handbag.
 

"Whoah, there's no way you're driving home," said Chris, trying to grab the keys out of my hand.
 

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked belligerently.

"I'm trying to make sure you don't crash on the way home. You've had a bit too much wine to get behind the wheel of a car," he replied seriously.
 

"Fine," I said, knowing that he was right and hating that I had to agree with him.
 

"Let's walk then," I said heading off down the steps and across the car park.
 

CHAPTER 11

CHRIS

Amy walked ahead of me down the road, her stride showing that she was still furious with me, with the world, with everything. She was just as crazy as I remembered. Over the course of the evening, I had watched her getting slowly tipsy. It was real cute, and when she finally lost her cool, I wanted to grab her in a big bear hug and wrestle her to the floor, planting kisses all over her angry face until she laughed. I couldn't do that, though, she probably would have hit me.

She was mad as hell, and I wasn't surprised. I could see that she'd had a tough few years, and I couldn't help but feel guilty about that, for some reason. I mean it wasn't my fault that she was working in a diner; it wasn't my fault that she'd given up her dreams of a career as an artist, but I didn't treat her so well back then, and I knew that I had broken her heart. I couldn't help but feel that if I hadn't messed things up then, maybe she would be in a better place today.