Baby Be Mine

another handful of nuts into her mouth. I no longer feel so self-righteous.
    ‘Come if you want,’ Johnny says offhandedly to me as he stubs out his cigarette.
    Dana screws up her nose. ‘It won’t be much fun.’
    ‘No, you’re alright, thanks,’ I reply. ‘I’ll be jet-lagged anyway, and I wouldn’t leave Barney on his first night here.’
    ‘Haven’t you got a fucking nanny?’ Dana asks.
    ‘No.’ I give Johnny a pointed look.
    He leans over and pats Dana’s thigh. ‘Can’t swear anymore, babe.’
    ‘Why the fuck not?’
    ‘Barney.’
    ‘The little dude’s not even here!’ she exclaims, sitting upright. I hate how she’s already found her own nickname for him.
    ‘Yeah, but you’ve gotta get out of the habit. Unless you want to incur Meg’s wrath,’ Johnny drawls, glancing my way. Dana meets my eyes for a long moment and then looks away herself. I have a horrid feeling she couldn’t care less about upsetting me.
    ‘What’s that?’ She points at my hand with her lit cigarette.
    ‘Barney’s baby monitor.’
    She gets another cigarette out of the packet and lights it from the stub of her current one. ‘What, like some kind of walkie-talkie?’
    ‘Yes. I’ll hear him if he wakes up.’
    She hands Johnny the new cigarette and lights another for herself. Chain-smoking by its very definition. Nice.
    ‘That’s a bit Big Brother, isn’t it?’ She blows a puff of smoke in my direction.
    I’m unable to keep my laugh from sounding derisive. ‘He’s only a year and a bit old.’
    ‘Wrestle control early,’ she replies, unaffected by my tone. ‘That’s what I’d do, too. Not that I plan on getting knocked up.’ She kicks Johnny gently with her peep-toe wedge. ‘So if you fancy yourself as some kind of Baby Daddy you’d better look for a different girl.’
    Johnny smirks and nudges her foot away.
    I don’t want to be here anymore.
    ‘Where are you going?’ Johnny asks when I get up.
    ‘Going to finish my unpacking before Barney wakes up.’
    ‘Have fun,’ Dana says, not even bothering to look at me.
    I’ll have a hell of a lot more fun than if I stay here, that’s for sure.

 
  Chapter 30  
    When I worked for Johnny, I made friends with another CPA – Celebrity Personal Assistant – called Kitty. We stayed in touch for a while after I quit, but, as time went on, our contact dwindled. I’ve been in LA for a few days before I decide to call her, but I still have no idea what to say. The thing about this business is that people have to be discreet; it’s part of the job description. I think I can trust Kitty. I never confided in her at the time about what went on with Johnny – I was constrained by the privacy agreement I’d signed. When I left so suddenly, Kitty knew better than to ask if anything had happened between us, but I’m sure she had her suspicions.
    This town is too small to stay hidden for long. Kitty is going to find out on the celebrity circuit that I’m back, even if we do manage to keep Barney a secret from the press for a while. People talk. I’d rather she heard it from me. I just hope she’s the same person she was when I left.
    I call her on a Saturday morning. Her number is the same; so she’s still working for Rod Freemantle, a middle-aged actor who has had almost as many wives as Brad and Angelina have children. He’s currently on his fifth.
    She answers the phone: ‘Rod Freemantle’s office.’
    ‘Kitty.’
    ‘Yes, can I help you?’
    ‘It’s Meg.’
    ‘Meg!’ she cries, dropping all formality. ‘Long time no hear! How’s it going?’
    ‘Good! Really good.’
    ‘How’s your little boy?’
    ‘Barney is great,’ I say, just in case she’s forgotten his name. ‘He’s almost one and a half, can you believe?’
    ‘Jeez, no, I can’t believe it. I’m so ashamed that I haven’t met him yet.’ I’m about to tell her she can make up for lost time, but she moves on. ‘How’s Christian?’
    ‘Er, not so good,’ I reply.
    ‘What’s wrong with him?’
    ‘We split up.’
    ‘Oh, man!’ she exclaims. ‘That sucks. What happened?’
    ‘It’s a long story . . . Too long to explain on the phone.’
    ‘Well, I ain’t coming to London anytime soon . . .’
    She doesn’t even know I’ve been living in France. ‘Just as well I’m in LA, then,’ I reply.
    ‘Are you kidding me?’
    ‘Nope.’
    ‘What are you doing back here?’
    ‘That is part of the long story. Listen, when can we hook up?’
    ‘I’m free