Page 94 of Mending Hearts

Keeping my head down, I rushed toward the side entrance of the DA’s office. My lawyer had gotten my deposition delayed in an effort to shield me from the press’s attention. Apparently, someone at the office had leaked my new deposition date. There was always someone making a buck off my back.

Led by Pasha, my cluster of bodyguards kept the press at bay. The exclamations of shock and surprise over my appearance would have normally had me smiling. But the questions that followed hit like bullets.

Mia, are you pregnant? When are you due? Mia, is Tyler Sullivan the father? Mia, did you know Kenny Connors was assaulting other girls and women? Mia, why didn’t you come forward earlier? Mia, have youreached out to the other victims? Mia, was the abortion you had a few years ago related to Kenny Connors?

Before getting out of the car, I’d put on my emotional armor, but the last question, just as I squeezed in the rear entrance, was like shrapnel wedging into my side, an infection waiting to happen.

Once inside the office, I took a deep breath and gave Pasha a wry smile. If only that interaction was the worst of it, this whole situation would be a breeze. Instead, I knew from the conversation with my lawyer last week that the deposition would be painful, eye-opening, and perhaps devastating. Would they tell me how many other women? I’d tried to research it online, but the case was closely guarded, and I couldn’t find much. A few names, ones almost as big as mine, had been dropped like pebbles across the speculative blog posts and news articles. The tentacles of his reach slithered underneath too many deals, so many albums.

I’d thought the week I found out I was pregnant was long, but this week, since my mother had been banished from my inner circle, had beaten it by a thousand miles. Taryn and Rebecca had worked tirelessly alongside me to put the right people in place to manage the collapse. We’d cut Laura off from everything but her own personal bank accounts.

Judging by the funds in my accounts, Laura paid herself extremely well, especially in the weeks after the subpoena was issued. In the moments that weren’t consumed with sorting out the mess left in the wake of firing my mother, I pored over the photos of Tyler on my phone and the few I’d managed to snap of our daughter. Calling Victoria my daughter still felt surreal. I’d spent nine months thinking of the baby as Tyler’s alone. But I was trying out this new thought process, determining whether it should stick.

As soon as my thoughts drifted to him, I remembered I’d forgotten to tell him the deposition had been moved to today. My fingers had hovered over the keyboard of my phone so many times in the last week, determined to text him, determined not to crack open the window in case the breeze of my feelings swept us both away.

I couldn’t go back unless I was sure I could be a good parent, the right parent for Victoria. While it felt as though Tyler was the only person capable of stitching my heart together, I couldn’t let my emotions overrule my head. A good mom. The best mom. Anything less than that wasn’t enough.

In the DA’s office, I insisted on having Pasha in the room for the deposition. The prosecutor had grimaced and then said, “I understand. You probably don’t go in many rooms without a witness or protection, right?”

“Sure…well…price of fame.” I grabbed my hair and laid it across my shoulder.

“The common thread in all these depositions has been, not necessarily fame, but the need to have someone close.” He eased into one of the chairs on the other side of the table and looked to her lawyer, to Pasha. “For a lot of the girls, it’s their mom or their dad. For others, like you, it’s a bodyguard or a boyfriend, or the like.”

“Are there a lot of us?” I whispered.

“He started working at the company when he was twenty-two. He’s fifty-one now. Twenty-nine years of having some form of influence in the entertainment industry.”

“Will you need me to testify?” I braided the tips of my hair, my fingers working furiously. Tyler. Lollipops. His hand gripping mine. I wantedit all. Why hadn’t I at least grabbed one of his favorite jasmine ones? I could breathe in the scent right now and gather my strength.

“Well,” he said, drawing his lined paper close, “we’ll see what you have to say. We haven’t charged him with anything yet. We’re gathering evidence, talking to victims and witnesses, figuring out the best course of action.”

“How did this…how did you know to investigate?”

He seemed to weigh his words before speaking. “The mother of his latest victim came forward.”

“The mother?”

“Yes.”

“The mom went to the police and reported him? Did the…did the daughter know?”

“Yes. Her daughter was afraid of what would happen, but her mother has been really supportive of her story.”

Supportive.“That sounds nice.”

“Are you ready to tell me your version of events?” A ghost of a smile flickered across his face.

“Yeah,” I said, letting my hands fall into my lap. “I am.”

On the way out of the office, I turned on my phone, which then exploded with notifications. I silenced everything without looking at them. Whatever the world thought of how I acted or what I looked like wasn’t important right now. There was one person I desperately wanted totalk to, but I couldn’t reach out to him. If I asked, he’d come. A bigger complication.

Turning to Pasha as we got closer to exiting the office, I said, “It was a mom that blew the whistle. Can you believe it?”

“Yes.” Pasha’s body was tense and alert as we neared the rear door.

“You can believe that?”

“Good parents put daughter first. Not career. Not money.” His hand rested on the small of my back as we paused at the door. “Child not always know what they need. This mother know her daughter need protected. So, she protect. Shield daughter, not make daughter shield.” The curving motion of his shoulders made it look as though he was encircling some absent person.

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