were all sitting at this table.
“Not a subtle change of subject, but a necessary topic.” Olivia smiled up at the waitstaff as the two ladies brought out carts complete with soufflés, fresh fruit, breads and juice. Once they were out of earshot, she spoke again. “Have you chosen a director?”
“I’ve got two in mind.” He took his napkin and placed it in his lap. “I’d like to discuss that with you.”
“Allow me to throw my choice in.” Olivia leveled her gaze at Bronson. “Anthony Price.”
Victoria’s audible intake of breath could barely be heard over the ringing in his ears. He set his cup of juice on the table, wishing for something a little stronger in his glass if this was the way his day was going to go. First the newspaper and now this preposterous request from his mother? She couldn’t be serious.
“Hear me out,” Olivia said, sitting straight up in her seat. “I have something important to tell you both, something that no one knows, and I’d prefer it stay that way.”
Every nerve ending in his body prickled as he glanced at Victoria, who seemed to be just as nervous about this impending declaration as he was.
“I’ve had some tests that have come back unsatisfactory, according to my doctor.” She looked from Victoria to Bronson. “I don’t expect this to be anything more than a nuisance, but I am having further testing to rule everything out.”
“What tests? What symptoms are you having?” Victoria asked.
“You’ve gotten a second opinion, right?” Bronson asked at the same time.
That genuine smile that had won her Oscars and worked its way into the hearts of millions spread across her face. But Bronson didn’t care about the audiences who’d come to love her. This was his mother, and if her health was in jeopardy, he wanted her healed. Now.
“This is why I didn’t want you two to know,” she told them. “I don’t want you to worry, and I don’t want you to look at me the way you are now. I assure you, I feel fine, and I’m convinced this next round of tests will prove the others wrong.
“I’ve been having some slight chest pain, and I just attribute it to stress. My stress test came back a bit off, and the doctor wants to go in a take a look.”
“When?” he asked.
“Monday.”
Bronson tried to grasp that his mother wasn’t invincible, as he’d thought. He’d been so self-absorbed lately, he’d ignored his mother and sister, trying to get his own life under control. Fear squeezed his chest as he stared at the woman who’d been his rock and source of strength for so long.
Which is why he had a hard time trying to comprehend what this had to do with Anthony Price.
“I’ll clear my schedule,” Victoria told her. “But what does Anthony have to do with any of this?”
Something flickered in Olivia’s eyes, something he couldn’t identify, which both worried and irritated him. She was hiding something.
“This medical nuisance has had me thinking.” She looked Bronson dead in the eye. “You’re the best producer in the business. No question. You cannot deny that Anthony is the best director. I want the best for the film we’ve written loosely based on my life, and I want you and Anthony to bury this animosity long enough to make this the best film ever.”
Fury burned through him. “Why are you so insistent? There’s more to this than your medical scare.”
Olivia reached for the butter and began to layer a very minimal amount onto her freshly baked banana bread. “This will be my last film, Bronson, and this is what I want.”
“Mother,” Victoria piped in. “You’re not retiring. Don’t even suggest this is the last film you’ll do.”
“Darling, as much as I love to be in front of the camera, it’s time for me to call it quits. I want to go out on top, and what better way than with my own story?”
Bronson stared down at the newspaper with the headline that continued to mock him.
He’d certainly had better days.
“You know why I hate Anthony. Asking him to work on this film is unacceptable.” Bronson came to his feet. “We’ll discuss directors after your appointment Monday, once we see what the doctors say. Until then, this topic is closed.” He turned to Victoria. “See you later, Tori.”
Walking away, Bronson didn’t know where to go from here. He needed to calm down from his mother’s request, he needed to grasp that his mother may have a heart problem and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
But first things first. He needed to go see Mia and talk to her about that damning picture on the front page of the newspaper.
Mia couldn’t believe the headline. She hadn’t heard from Bronson, but she knew he’d be up having brunch with his mother and sister. She’d so hoped this pregnancy wouldn’t get out until they were ready. The last thing she wanted was to cause more heartache for Bronson or to have the progress she’d made in getting him to open up encounter a setback.
She had a feeling he’d be dropping by after his brunch with his family. What she didn’t have a clue about was the mood he’d be in when he arrived.
Rubbing the swell of her baby bump, Mia tried to relax by the pool. She’d donned her black string bikini, not caring that her waistline was expanding more quickly than she’d expected. Her cell sent out a shrill ring, jarring her from her thoughts. Why hadn’t she left that thing inside?
Her fingers felt along the chaise until she found the phone tucked by her thigh. “Hello?”
“Tell me this isn’t true.”
Mia sat up, sliding her sunglasses onto the top of her head as Anthony’s low voice interrupted her thoughts. “You saw the paper.”
“You’re not carrying Bronson’s baby, Mia. Tell me you’re not.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You two have gotten close,” Anthony said. “Obviously closer than I thought you would. You didn’t …”
Mia came to her feet. “I didn’t tell him, Anthony. I told you I wouldn’t.”
His frustrated sigh resounded through the phone. “How did you get entangled with him at all? I warned you, Mia. You knew what a ladies’ man he was.”
She tried to block that from her mind, especially since she was falling in love with that “ladies’ man.”
“I can’t stop my feelings, Anthony. You of all people know that.”
He let out a bitter laugh. “I’m not talking about my rocky marriage. I’m worried that you’re getting in over your head here.”
Touched, Mia turned toward the beckoning, clear water of her pool. “I assure you, I’ve got everything under control.”
“So
