What it Takes (3 page)

Janelle took the half-full bowl of ice cream from her.

Kelsey closed her eyes on angry tears. “What am I going to do? I’m pregnant with the baby of a man who never loved me.”

“It’s your child, too, Kelsey. Don’t forget that.”

That wouldn’t be possible. She gave her sister a watery smile. “I won’t.” Kelsey slumped against the wall. “Mom’s gonna kill me.”

“I won’t let her do that,” Janelle promised as she wrapped her arms around her sister and her chin brushed against Kelsey’s cheek. Janelle wrinkled her pert nose. “You do stink, you know that?”

In spite of herself, Kelsey laughed. “I don’t know what to do, J.” She broke the hug and looped her arm through her sister’s. They walked down the short hallway to the bathroom and Kelsey stepped inside.

“Get a shower first,” Janelle answered, but before Kelsey could close the door, Janelle reached out to cup her cheek. “Think about it, but know that whatever you decide, we’ll get through this together.”

One

Almost six years later . . .

K
elsey Morgan hated tabloids in general. Most of the time she ignored them. But the cover of the one she was currently thumbing through was graced by her current co-star, and the temptation had been too great. The epitome of tall, tanned, and handsome, Patrick Lyons stood several inches taller than Kelsey. His dark brown hair was perfectly styled with a part down the left side and his eyes resembled melted chocolate. His jaw was softly squared and his nose slightly narrow with a rounded tip. He was handsome and everything about him said that he knew it. And, loath as she was to admit it, he’d enchanted her the moment she’d met him at their screen test five months ago. Since filming on the set in Tennessee had begun, she’d struggled daily to keep him at arm’s length and had been looking for something in the article to justify her behavior. Having found nothing, she closed the magazine and glared at the smiling face of Patrick Lyons.

In Kelsey’s opinion, Patrick Lyons had one of the worst reputations where his leading ladies were concerned. In recent years, he’d become a tabloid favorite, gracing covers with his most recent lady love, a face that changed every other month. In the last three years, he’d been in eight movies and, according to the stories Kelsey had read and heard, had slept with every leading lady. So now Kelsey felt as though all eyes were on her, expecting her to take her place on the next tabloid cover.

She thought not.

Kelsey had spent the past five years struggling to make a good, clean, honest name for herself in Hollywood. She’d done everything in her power to hold on to the small-town virtues she’d grown up with and valued. Even when she was desperate for work, she turned down an offer from an adult film producer. Instead, she’d turned her attentions to signing on with a good agent, one who found her work—small roles in ads, music videos, television shows, and movies, all leading up to the role she was playing now.

She’d also spent the last five years trying to stay out of the sight of gossips. The last thing she needed was to draw too much attention to herself. Kelsey loved her career, but she also loved her life at home with her family and didn’t want anything to jeopardize their private time together. The idea of having a photographer dogging her heels everywhere she went, even for a short time, turned her stomach.

Kelsey sighed as she glanced at her watch and picked up a book. She’d been alone in her trailer for twenty minutes and didn’t expect the respite to last much longer. Since filming had begun, she’d spent most of her free time alone, studying her script or reading, hoping to minimize the effect Patrick Lyons had on her. She’d avoided visiting her co-stars’ trailers. As a result, they’d begun seeking her out in hers.

A loud knock on the door made her chuckle wryly.
Right on time
, she thought and shook her head. Kelsey, who was lounging on the sofa, tucked the tabloid behind the pillows at her back as Veronica Madison stuck her bright, blonde head in and placed a foot on the bottom step.

“Hey, Kelsey, mind if we come in?” Veronica asked with a brilliant smile.

Her blue eyes sparkled in a soft, heart-shaped face, but her body was thin, as though she could use a good home-cooked meal. Or three. She was bursting with a self-confidence that Kelsey hadn’t yet developed. Having parents with careers in the motion picture industry meant that Veronica had practically grown up on movie sets, and at twenty-five, two years younger than Kelsey, she’d been acting for eight years already.

“No, come on in.” Kelsey laughed as Veronica entered, bouncing up the steps. She was followed closely by their two male co-stars. Patrick Lyons flashed one of his gorgeous grins at her as he sat on the couch near Kelsey’s feet. She pulled her feet closer to her body and breathed deeply to soothe her rapidly beating heart as she turned her attention to the others.

“Hey, Red, reading again?” Grayson Reynolds plopped his broad, strapping frame into the chair across the room. His unruly black hair looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed, his scruffy jaw was wider at the ear and narrowed to his chin, and his thin lips twitched to smirk as he watched her with dancing green eyes.

Kelsey looked away and tried not to laugh. Of her three visitors, Grayson was the one she felt most comfortable with. They’d worked together once before and bonded, developing a sibling-type relationship. “Red” was his nickname for her and she still wasn’t sure whether it was because her hair had been dyed that color for the role or because of her Virginia-born, country-raised roots. Probably a combination of both, which was ironic given that Grayson’s childhood in Georgia hadn’t been much different from hers.

“What’s it this time?” Grayson questioned, sounding bored and impatient. Kelsey held up a much-worn copy of
Pride and Prejudice.

“Ooo, I love that one.” Veronica cooed. She was sitting on her knees on the dining table bench, leaning over Kelsey’s shoulder. She glanced at Grayson and Kelsey followed the line of her vision.

Grayson looked mildly amused. “We’re going dancing tonight.”

Kelsey shrugged. “Have fun.”

“You’re coming too.”

“I beg your pardon?” Kelsey scoffed. “What makes you think I’d want to go dancing?”

“What makes you think I’d care?” Grayson returned and Kelsey narrowed her eyes. “You’ve had your nose in a book for the last few weeks, and I think it’s about time you stop being such a snob and do something with the rest of us.”

Surprised by his attack, Kelsey began to argue but exhaled slowly and closed her mouth. She knew he was right.

“Be nice,” Patrick muttered to Grayson and Kelsey turned to face him, wide-eyed and taken aback by his defense of her.

In the four weeks of their working together, he hadn’t made a pass at her. He’d been the perfect gentleman on set and was cordial and good natured, giving her the space she’d wanted off set. Despite her expectations, he’d never shown a bit of interest in her, but his presence still set her on edge. She was constantly on her guard around him, waiting for him to make a move. Was this it?

She focused on Patrick’s handsome visage and was momentarily lost in his deep brown eyes. Had they always been that dark?

“What Grayson meant to say was, ‘Would you like to go dancing with us tonight?’” he clarified.

“No, I didn’t,” Grayson snorted as Kelsey, without thinking, slowly nodded her head.

Kelsey’s sluggish thoughts drifted to the bodyguards who followed them everywhere while they were on location. Even with five years under her belt, she’d never had to deal with bodyguards before. If going out meant having a bodyguard or two in tow, she’d rather stay in her hotel room. “Going out can be such a hassle,” Kelsey murmured.

Grayson rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not. You get used to it, newbie.”

Kelsey smirked, imagining the places Grayson had dragged his entourage as she smoothed a corner of her book. Her smile faded when saw Patrick’s hopeful look and her heart skipped a beat. “Why’s it so important that I go?” she challenged Grayson as she reluctantly pulled her eyes away from Patrick.

“It’s important because, despite your reclusive tendencies, I like spending time with you,” Grayson said with a rare air of seriousness. “And I think Veronica and Patrick would, too, if you’d give them a chance.” They both nodded their agreement.

Kelsey closed her eyes in defeat. She’d spent the last four weeks keeping as much space as she could between herself and Patrick; she hadn’t considered Veronica and Grayson at all. Patrick was just the kind of man she could fall for, and she couldn’t risk that. She couldn’t risk the gossip, and she certainly wouldn’t risk her heart. But Grayson had a point . . . again. She was shutting him and Veronica out, and that wasn’t fair to either of them.

Kelsey clenched her jaw as she looked up at Grayson. “Okay. Where’ll we go?”

Patrick followed his female co-stars into the bar, ignoring the gasps from the patrons the best he could. Veronica led the way, wearing a skirt that hit her just above mid-thigh and a loose, see-through white blouse over a black tank top. With four bodyguards flanking them, the male patrons could only gawk as Veronica walked through the bar. In contrast, Kelsey wore a pair of jeans and a form-hugging, burgundy t-shirt with a large floral print on the front—stylish but low-key.

Patrick preferred Kelsey’s more subdued look—but that no longer shocked him.

The moment he’d laid eyes on Kelsey Morgan, he’d known she was different. Most actresses he’d worked with fawned over him at the audition then spent every free moment they had with him when filming started. It was no wonder he’d slept with most of them; they’d made themselves so readily available. But not Kelsey, she’d wanted nothing to do with him. And that fascinated him.

Patrick had grown up in Hollywood. His father was a talent agent for several of the biggest names in Hollywood. His grandfather had been a producer for several hit television shows. His mother and sister worked behind the scenes. His family was a forceful presence and he had always gotten everything he wanted. At age seventeen, he’d won the role that had launched his career. At age twenty-one, he’d won his first Oscar. By age twenty-five, directors had been scrambling to work with him and actresses had been scrambling to be with him.

Now he was almost thirty and getting tired of all of the phonies who surrounded him on a daily basis. Kelsey Morgan’s attitude hit him like a breath of fresh air. Where other actresses allowed themselves to get caught up in the character and carried away by the emotion of the scene, Kelsey could execute a scene perfectly, showing the depth of feeling needed, then step back into reality when the director yelled “Cut!” He’d never be able to cross that invisible line between fiction and reality with her. And he didn’t mind that one bit.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find her attractive, quite the opposite. In his opinion, she grew more beautiful every day. It was that he respected her for her lack of interest in him.

His thoughts drifted back to the moment as Veronica continued to lead them past booths with thick red cushions and flat wooden backs. They chose a table just beyond the booths, against the deep-red wall covered with portraits of country music and rock ’n roll stars. As Grayson sauntered to the bar to get the first round of drinks, Patrick watched him stop to talk to several women on the way. As he took the seat next to Kelsey, he quickly scanned the crowd.