No Matter What (102 page)

Read No Matter What Online

Authors: Michelle Betham

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sagas

BOOK: No Matter What
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“Shall we wake daddy up?” she whispered, kissing Ethan’s forehead.

“Daddy’s already awake,” Michael smiled, sitting up and pushing a hand through his hair.
 
“I thought Emma was looking after him?”

“I couldn’t sleep so I took over.”

She sat down next to Michael, handing Ethan over to him.

“Is everything alright, honey?” he asked, kissing his baby son.

She wished it was.
 
She really wished it was.
 
“It’s fine.
 
I just thought I might as well get up rather than lying here doing nothing.”

He smiled at her again.
 
“You could have woken me up earlier you know.
 
I’m sure we could have found something to do together to stop you getting bored.”

She couldn’t help smiling back.
 
“You were sound asleep.
 
I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.
 
Listen, can you look after him while I grab a quick shower?”

“Sure.
 
Of course I can.
 
We’ll be ok, won’t we, kiddo?”

India ruffled Ethan’s dark hair and leaned over to kiss Michael, a slow kiss, a beautiful kiss, and given half a chance, and if their baby boy hadn’t have been there, she would have got back into bed and let that kiss take its course so badly did she want anything to distract her from having to do what she had to do today.
 
But there’d been enough pretending, enough burying of heads in the sand.
 
It was time to get everything out in the open.
 
And she’d never been so scared.

 

***

 

Kenny woke up with a banging headache, dragged himself out of bed and went straight to the bathroom, stepping under a freezing cold shower to wake himself up.
 
He wasn’t aware he’d even drank that much yesterday but his head seemed to tell him otherwise.

He stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror, wincing at his reflection.
 
He looked like crap, and that cut on his lip didn’t make him look any better.
 
It was covered in dried blood and it stung like hell.
 
A nice reminder of a conversation with Michael Walsh.
 
He had one hell of a punch on him, Kenny couldn’t deny that.
 
The only surprising thing to Kenny was that Michael had waited so long to say anything.
 
If he’d known for all those years, as he claimed he did, why wait until now?
 
But he’d given up trying to understand the way Michael Walsh worked.

He wondered if he should talk to
India
.
 
He didn’t give a fuck what Michael had or hadn’t told him to do, Kenny’s only concern was
India
.
 
Her husband didn’t scare him, no way.
 
He couldn’t care less what Michael did or didn’t feel, or what
he
wanted to happen, all that bothered him was making sure
India
was alright.
 
He didn’t know if she was filming today, but it would be easier if she was.
 
It might mean he could get her alone without Michael being around.

He quickly dried himself, grabbing his ‘phone and texting a message to
India
asking how she was and if she was on set today.
 
He had some publicity work for his new movie this morning but he could make time to see her.
 
He wanted to see for himself that she was alright.

He’d just pulled on his jeans when the doorbell rang and he ran down to answer it, hoping it might be
India
but, flinging it open, his heart sank.

“Layla.
 
What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, you really know how to make a girl feel special, Kenny.”

“Did you want something?”
 
He really wasn’t in the mood for her this morning.
 
He wasn’t in the mood for her, period.
 
He still hadn’t taken anything for this headache and the sound of her voice was making it worse.

She stepped forward, giving him no choice but to let her in.
 
“I want
you
, Kenny.
 
You disappointed me last night.
 
I really hoped we’d go home together.
 
I had such big plans for you y’know.”

“I wasn’t in the mood, Layla.
 
And I’m still not in the mood, not to mention the fact I’ve got to be somewhere in an hour.”

She stepped forward, kicking the door shut behind her, untying her coat and letting it drop to the floor.
 
She was wearing nothing but high heels and a smile and Kenny knew there was only one way this was going to end.
 
He was only human after all.
 
He may not want a relationship with her but that was a killer body she had there and he’d be an idiot to ignore it.

“Oh, I think an hour’s plenty of time, don’t you?” Layla smiled, moving closer to him.
 
“Something tells me this won’t take long at all.”

Something told Kenny she was right.

 

***

 

India
looked at the text from Kenny, punched out a quick reply and flipped her ‘phone shut.
 
She didn’t feel much like seeing him today.
 
They still needed to talk, they really needed to talk, but he could wait.
 
He’d have to.
 

She turned her attention back to some proofs from a recent photo shoot she had to look through.
 
She needed something to do, something to keep her occupied until Michael got up.

“Here she is, kiddo.
 
We’ve found mommy.”

India
turned round as Michael walked into the room carrying Ethan.
 
She stood up and went over to them, smiling as Ethan held his arms out towards her and Michael handed him over.

“I’m surprised you couldn’t sleep, honey,” Michael said, picking up a handful of the photographs
India
had been looking through.
 
“You must have been as tired as the rest of us.
 
Yesterday was one hell of a day.”
 
He looked back down at the proofs, holding one up.
 
“And this one here, it’s stunning.”

“It’s good lighting.”
 
She kissed Ethan’s cheek.

Michael smiled.
 
“Emma’s gonna take him out in a bit, if that’s ok?”

“That’s fine.”
 
It was perfect really, as far as
India
was concerned.
 
Having the house to themselves would certainly make things easier.
 
Her heart was already beating ten to the dozen.
 
She just wanted to get this over with.

“And I’ve got to pop out myself for a bit, too,” Michael went on.
 

India
felt her heart sink.
 
She had no filming today, they had the house to themselves and they needed to talk, but this wasn’t working out quite how she’d planned.

She lay Ethan down on the sofa, picking up one of his cuddly toys from the floor and handing it to him.
 
He immediately started chewing its ear and she couldn’t help smiling at him, stroking his dark hair.

“How long are you going to be?”

If she didn’t do this today it was going to drive her crazy.
 
Did Michael have any idea?
 
Was he trying to avoid some kind of confrontation?
 
Or was she just being paranoid?

Michael came over to her, slipping his arms around her waist, pulling her close.
 
“I’ll be a couple of hours, tops.
 
I promise.
 
Then we can spend the rest of the day together, ok?
 
Just me and you.”

She smiled at him, closing her eyes as he kissed her gently, holding onto him, not really wanting to let him go.

“Come on then, kiddo,” Michael said, breaking away from
India
and crouching down to pick up Ethan.
 
“Let’s get your bag packed and you ready for your day out with Emma.
 
Time to give mommy a bit of peace.”

But peace was the last thing
India
wanted, or needed.
 
Michael looked at her. “I’d better get going too, baby.
 
But I won’t be long.
 
Ok?”

She folded her arms, smiling at their son as he clung onto his cuddly toy, gurgling away at it happily.

“Ok … I’ll see you in a bit ... Michael?”

He turned round and smiled at her.
 
That smile she loved.
 
“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Hey, I love you too, honey.”

She watched them leave, knowing she’d been left with no choice but to hang around for a little bit longer.
 
She could have done with Charley being here.
 
At a time like this she really needed her but the timing was totally off.
 
She’d had a text from Charley only this morning saying how fantastic their cruise ship was and what a wonderful time her and Vince were having.
 
She really didn’t need to know about the crap going on in
India
’s life.

So, although she didn’t feel much like it – her energy levels were more than a little low – she went down to the gym they’d had built in the basement and took her frustration out on the running machine and the punch bag before coming back up into the house to grab a drink and check her messages.

She’d never felt so restless.
 
Usually she could always find something to do; it wasn’t as if she didn’t have a boat load of stuff she should be getting on with, but her heart just wasn’t in it.
 
She couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t concentrate for more than five minutes.
 
Then she remembered the disc Layla had given her last night, the one she’d thrown into a drawer in Michael’s desk.
 
She’d said it was something she should look at but
India
had forgotten all about it, until now.
 
So she went back to Michael’s study, sitting down behind his huge desk and opening the drawer she’d thrown the disc in, rifling around amongst the papers to try and retrieve it, and that’s when she noticed something.
 
A large manila envelope with something sticking out the top of it.
 
It looked like a photograph.
 
It looked like a paparazzi style photograph.
 
Was that a photograph of
her
?

She took the DVD Layla had given her out of the drawer and put it to one side, then she picked up the manila envelope and pulled the photograph out, looking at it.
 
It
was
a photograph of her – and Kenny.
 
Taken in Vegas, obviously by a camera with an exceptional zoom lens.
 
She was confused.
 
She looked inside the envelope and pulled out a handful of yet more photo’s, all of her and Kenny, all of them taken in Las Vegas when they’d been filming ‘The Wedding Convention’, all slightly grainy, and some of them had obviously been taken from quite a distance away as in a few of them you could only just tell that it
was
her and Kenny.
 
But, what was Michael doing with them?
 
Why did he have them here?
 
And that’s when it suddenly hit her.
 
These weren’t paparazzi photographs.
 
And she couldn’t even bring herself to think it but she knew – deep down she knew the only other kind of person who could have taken these photographs.
 

She continued flicking through the pile of pictures, bile rising in her throat as each second passed, stopping suddenly as she came to one that made her feel physically sick, shocking her more than any of the others had – because this was a picture of her and Kenny, on that night.
 
The night they’d been together.
 
It was a picture of them having sex, taken from outside the villa, through the French windows, and it wasn’t the best quality, but it was obvious what was going on.
 
She put a hand over her mouth.
 
It was all she could do not to throw up.
 
These were pictures only a private detective could have taken.
 
A very good and highly paid private detective.

She shook her head, unable to believe what she was thinking but the truth was staring her in the face.
 
Not her husband, no.
 
He couldn’t have done this.
 
But then, wouldn’t that explain how he knew about her and Kenny?
 
It was all so clear now.
 
Had he really had them followed?
 
Could he really have done that?
 
And why?
 
Why did he feel the need to do that?
 
She didn’t know what to think anymore.
 
She didn’t know what to feel, what to do.
 
This was crazy.
 
It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

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