Page 39 of Show Off

In my head I hear echoes of Mom’s voice on the phone an hour ago. “I had a call from my attorney.” My mother heaved a put-upon sigh. “She spoke with Christie Chaplin’s publicist.”

“What did she say?” I bit my lip, praying it had nothing to do with?—

“She’s very cagey.” Mom seemed to miss my impending panic attack. “You’re right, though. There’s a chapter in her new memoir that mentions me.”

“Oh?” I tried to sound breezy but didn’t pull it off. “What does it say?”

“We couldn’t get details. You know how secretive everyone gets around book releases.”

“Right.” That sounded ominous. “I know someone on her publisher’s PR team. I can ask about?—”

“I think she’s just jealous.”

I shut up and stared at the wall. “What?”

“That’s what it’s about.” Mom sounded so sure, I almost believed her. “Christie Chaplain’s just trying to steal attention frommymemoir.”

“It’s possible.” The woman could still do some damage. “What are the odds she’d say something after all this time?”

“Hard to say.” Mom went quiet, which is never a good sign. “Do you know what we should do?”

I got ready to jump in with a full publicity plan, but Mom answered her own question. “We should be ready with some kind of distraction. You know what would be fabulous?”

Rolling back on the sky-blue duvet, I stared at the ceiling of my parents’ guest bedroom. “What’s that?”

“A pregnancy announcement.”

“Um.” I pulled the phone from my ear and frowned at it. Was Shirleen Judson high? “Okay, well, I’m not sure you and Dad should?—”

“Notme,” she huffed. “Can’t one of you kids do something?”

I considered reminding her that Cooper and Amy are due any day now. Gabe and Gretchen aren’t far behind with baby number two, plus Lauren and Nick seem ready to?—

“What aboutyou, Lana?”

I nearly dropped the phone. “Me?”

“You said you’re seeing someone.”

I said no such thing, but she gave no chance to argue. Mom kept on going like this wasn’t weird as hell. “Lemon Lighthas all those sweet little vignettes about my youngest baby,” she gushed. “On account of your father’s nickname for you.”

“I’m aware.” My gut twisted painfully.Lemon Drop.From the time I was little, that’s what my father called me. I drew a few breaths, working to push back the panic and guilt.

Mom continued. “Wouldn’t it be a hoot ifmybaby was having a baby?—”

“No,” I snapped, nipping that in the bud. “Let me just talk with the rest of the publicity team. If there’s a story breaking, I’ll find it.”

“Fine.”

It’s been an hour since the call as I yank at her zillion-thread-count sheets and roll over in bed. This is pointless. Maybe that’s not even what’s keeping me awake.

Maybe it’s Dal, just six doors down in another guest suite. We’ve never slept under the same roof before, and I’m hyperaware that he’s here. That his eyes raked my torso at the restaurant when I returned from the restroom wearing my cashmere sweater again.

Heat filled his eyes as gravel filled his voice. “Where’s the bra?”

“None of your business,” I snapped. We sat alone at the table, Jake and Cassidy off fiddling with the jukebox by the bar. I crossed my arms and glared at Dal. “Just so you know, my method would’ve worked.”

“Maybe.” At least he gave me that much. “Mine’s quicker, though. Would’ve saved us all some heartache.”

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