She got out of the car and tapped at the front door. Mac answered, pulling her into a bear hug.
“Hey, Scarlett. Good to see you. Come on in.”
As she stepped inside, Jax greeted her. The basenji raised up on his hind legs and did a ballet pirouette before dashing over to lick her hand.
“Good boy, Jax.” She ran a hand along the dog’s coat.
Mac closed the door. “Come on, Jax. We’re going for a run.”
Scarlett followed him into the living room, with its spectacular view of the ocean visible through a wall of glass.
Keely waved from the sofa, a mug in her hand, and patted the cushion next to her. “Come here, you.”
Scarlett hugged her friend and sat next to her, setting her tote down and propping her feet up on the coffee table.
Mac came over and tenderly kissed Keely. “See you in a bit.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before he and Jax left out the rear slider.
The sweetness of the kiss washed over Scarlett. She was glad her friend had such a devoted husband. It was another reason to end things with Chaz. He was self-absorbed and, while entertaining, he never would be a man who would cherish simple gestures.
“Tell me everything,” Scarlett said. “How the movie’s going. How making a baby progressing. I want to hear it all.” She stopped. “You’re not dressed yet. You better do that and we can talk in the car on the way to the tournament.”
Keely looked sheepish. “I’m not going.”
“Don’t tell me the producers won’t let you dive for a few balls in the sand,” Scarlett lectured. “I can understand the riders about no motorcycling or jumping out of planes but—”
“I’m pregnant.”
Scarlett’s mouth flew open and then she enveloped Keely in a tight hug. “That’s terrific news. I’m so happy for you and Mac.” She pulled away. “How far along are you?” Ever the businesswoman, she added, “How much longer does the shoot have?”
“This director is out-Sydneying Sydney,” Keely said.
She laughed. Their friend, Sydney Revere, married to Dash DeLauria, was known for bringing in pictures under budget and oftentimes ahead of schedule. “How fast?”
“We’ve been at it a month and are already a week ahead of schedule, which is unheard of in Hollywood. We’re supposed to film another eight weeks. Seven now, I guess. At the rate we’re going, I can see us make up another week. Maybe six weeks or so?”
“Good. You probably won’t be showing until then. Are you sick?”
“Only at night. Weird, I know. They call it morning sickness but I’m fine when I get up. I feel great during the day. I do come home super-tired, though. And then about eight, I start getting queasy and up comes everything. The only thing that tastes good to me now is PBJ.”
“Have you told the director?” Scarlett asked. “At least with a romantic comedy, you don’t have any stunts coming up.”
“I don’t think I’m going to. I’m only four weeks along. That’s really too early to tell anyone, except you, of course. We decided we’d wait until the three-month mark and hope all goes well. If that’s the case, we should be through shooting by then. I won’t sign on for anything new. Mac’s committed to doing Cassie’s screenplay after this and then nothing’s on his calendar until late next year.”
“Oh, the buddy pic all the guys are doing together. I remember.” Scarlett hugged Keely again. “Thank you for sharing the good news with me. I won’t tell a soul. You know I’m airtight about things. It’s the lawyer in me. I’m great at negotiations and poker because I never show emotion or tip my hand. You could look like you have a basketball stuffed under your dress and I’d give you that blasé look as if the status quo had never changed.” She paused. “When you do give the word, let me host the baby shower. With London. She’ll want in on this.”
“You’re on,” Keely said. She rubbed her belly absently.
Scarlett stood. “You’ve inspired me. I’ve got something I need to do.”
Keely frowned. “What?”
“I was going to dump Chaz tonight after Rhett’s casino party.” Determination filled her. “Instead, I’m going to do it now.”
“I inspired a breakup?” Keely looked baffled.
“I’d already decide Chaz was a dead end,” Scarlett shared. “Why wait until tonight? I’ll do it now and be free of worry. I’m serious, Keely. The time has come for me to slow down a little with my career. I want to find love and if I can’t, I’m going to have a baby anyway. We can raise our kids together.”
With that, Scarlett reached for her tote and headed out the door.
◆◆◆
Wynn Gallagher woke up. Misery washed over him.
“I can’t be Carbon Man anymore,” he said aloud to the empty room.
Carbon Man was the immensely popular comic book character he played in a sci-fi future world franchise. While the two TV series he’d done in his twenties had cemented his reputation as a hardworking, talented professional, the three Carbon Man movies—as well as two crossover films—had made him wealthy beyond imagination. Filming would start on the fourth one in ten days.
Wynn would do anything to get out of shooting it. Anything. Even break his contract.
Was that possible?
He doubted it. Rylon Pictures had hit the jackpot with the creation of the Alpha Tharra Universe, which united unrelated comic books with a series of graphic novels into one futuristic solar system. The concept drew from everything popular with sci-fi geeks and those longing to be superheroes. Rylon had connected these various worlds and then franchised it into something similar to the Marvel Universe. They’d signed three lead actors to personal contracts for a set number of solo and crossover films, Wynn being the first to sign on. The legalese of the contracts had even given Del a
