Read Online Finding Chris Evans: The Hollywood Edition by Lizzie Shane - Free Book Online
Authors: Lizzie Shane
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mixer and failed to catch three different permit issues on our next build. What do you call that?”
“Okay, fine, I was distracted. It happens.”
“She’s a gold-digger.”
Chris stiffened at Marty’s unilateral verdict. “You don’t know her.”
“I know her better than you do. Who announces they’re pregnant with a celebrity’s baby in public if they don’t want their five seconds of fame? Or a payoff. Do you know the kind of backflips we’re going to have to do to spin this?”
“We don’t need to spin it.”
Marty rolled his eyes. “Wake up and smell the manipulation, Chris. I realize you probably slept with her and I’m sure she was amazing in the sack—”
“You need to stop talking now.”
“Why? Because she’s The One ? You don’t have time for The One right now. The One is for after you get this new contract signed, sealed and delivered. Or did you forget about your career as soon as that piece of ass walked in?”
“Careful, Marty,” Chris growled. “Just because I’ve never punched you, don’t think I won’t.”
Marty’s eye-roll reached epic levels. “You aren’t going to punch me because you know I’m right. This is a complication your career doesn’t need right now. What do you want? To ride off into the sunset toward the nearest wedding chapel with a girl you don’t even know? You’re a heartthrob and heartthrobs are, by definition, not married . Especially not with a kid on the way.” He gripped Chris’s arm in what was doubtless designed to be a brotherly gesture but fell far short. “The network doesn’t want a family man, Chris. They have a family man. They want the stud.”
“So what would you like me to do?” Chris snapped. “Throw her out on her ass? Is the guy who abandons the woman carrying his child better for ratings?”
“A baby with a woman you don’t have a relationship with is fine, as long as you aren’t a deadbeat dad. Single father could work. But don’t get ahead of yourself. We don’t know that she’s really carrying your child,” Marty insisted. “We don’t know anything about this girl. Are we even sure she didn’t target you in Chicago?”
“Relax, Marty. I came on to her.”
“Or she made you think that. How well do you really know her? We need a pregnancy test. Maybe an ultrasound. And a paternity test. Then we can worry about damage control.”
Chris ground his molars—his instincts told him Marty was wrong, but he didn’t really know anything about Trina. “We can get all those things eventually, but I am not starting off my relationship with the mother of my child by calling her a liar and a fraud. And you need to get it through your head that there will be no damage control because this isn’t damage .”
“It is if you want the primetime gig.”
“Of course I want it. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get it, but this isn’t a case where deny-deny-deny is going to work. I need to figure out what she wants.” And what I want . “And to do that I need to talk to her. So get me a red-eye out of Minneapolis and I’ll meet you in New York.”
Trina held her breath inside the blue tent, Marty and Chris’s conversation carrying clearly through the canvas. They really should have walked farther away if they didn’t want her to overhear them—which made her think they must have wanted her to know what they were saying.
Or Marty wanted her to hear every word and Chris was too frazzled to notice they were within eavesdropping range.
Though Chris didn’t seem frazzled.
And neither did he seem happy.
She’d had so many stupid fantasies as she was driving out here—stupid now that she was looking back on them. She didn’t know why she’d thought he would be happy about the pregnancy, happy to see her again, happy to have his life suddenly complicated by her presence—but she’d pictured that over and over again as the miles flew by under her tires.
His smile lighting up at the idea of their child,
“Okay, fine, I was distracted. It happens.”
“She’s a gold-digger.”
Chris stiffened at Marty’s unilateral verdict. “You don’t know her.”
“I know her better than you do. Who announces they’re pregnant with a celebrity’s baby in public if they don’t want their five seconds of fame? Or a payoff. Do you know the kind of backflips we’re going to have to do to spin this?”
“We don’t need to spin it.”
Marty rolled his eyes. “Wake up and smell the manipulation, Chris. I realize you probably slept with her and I’m sure she was amazing in the sack—”
“You need to stop talking now.”
“Why? Because she’s The One ? You don’t have time for The One right now. The One is for after you get this new contract signed, sealed and delivered. Or did you forget about your career as soon as that piece of ass walked in?”
“Careful, Marty,” Chris growled. “Just because I’ve never punched you, don’t think I won’t.”
Marty’s eye-roll reached epic levels. “You aren’t going to punch me because you know I’m right. This is a complication your career doesn’t need right now. What do you want? To ride off into the sunset toward the nearest wedding chapel with a girl you don’t even know? You’re a heartthrob and heartthrobs are, by definition, not married . Especially not with a kid on the way.” He gripped Chris’s arm in what was doubtless designed to be a brotherly gesture but fell far short. “The network doesn’t want a family man, Chris. They have a family man. They want the stud.”
“So what would you like me to do?” Chris snapped. “Throw her out on her ass? Is the guy who abandons the woman carrying his child better for ratings?”
“A baby with a woman you don’t have a relationship with is fine, as long as you aren’t a deadbeat dad. Single father could work. But don’t get ahead of yourself. We don’t know that she’s really carrying your child,” Marty insisted. “We don’t know anything about this girl. Are we even sure she didn’t target you in Chicago?”
“Relax, Marty. I came on to her.”
“Or she made you think that. How well do you really know her? We need a pregnancy test. Maybe an ultrasound. And a paternity test. Then we can worry about damage control.”
Chris ground his molars—his instincts told him Marty was wrong, but he didn’t really know anything about Trina. “We can get all those things eventually, but I am not starting off my relationship with the mother of my child by calling her a liar and a fraud. And you need to get it through your head that there will be no damage control because this isn’t damage .”
“It is if you want the primetime gig.”
“Of course I want it. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get it, but this isn’t a case where deny-deny-deny is going to work. I need to figure out what she wants.” And what I want . “And to do that I need to talk to her. So get me a red-eye out of Minneapolis and I’ll meet you in New York.”
Trina held her breath inside the blue tent, Marty and Chris’s conversation carrying clearly through the canvas. They really should have walked farther away if they didn’t want her to overhear them—which made her think they must have wanted her to know what they were saying.
Or Marty wanted her to hear every word and Chris was too frazzled to notice they were within eavesdropping range.
Though Chris didn’t seem frazzled.
And neither did he seem happy.
She’d had so many stupid fantasies as she was driving out here—stupid now that she was looking back on them. She didn’t know why she’d thought he would be happy about the pregnancy, happy to see her again, happy to have his life suddenly complicated by her presence—but she’d pictured that over and over again as the miles flew by under her tires.
His smile lighting up at the idea of their child,
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