Emmett shakes his head.
Brenda looks lost. Maybe she doesn’t realize Emmett is already a star—just not in Hollywood.
“But you have to! I need my big break!” she whines loudly. “He said you do auditions all the time!”
He does?
I don’t think Emmett notices me staring, though. He’s too busy letting out an exasperated sigh. “Look, you need to leave. I’m not doing this audition.”
“How come?” she says.
“I’m busy. I have company.” He points at me.
“You can finish the audition with her. I can wait,” she says.
Instead of correcting her, he says, “No, you can’t. But if you leave now, I’ll open the gates so you won’t have to jump the wall again. Wouldn’t want you to break a nail or anything.”
She looks down at her hands with a gasp as though she’s just realized the horrible possibility. “Fine. I’ll come back when you aren’t in an audition with somebody else.” She flicks her eyes over me—and doesn’t seem too impressed—before she turns to Emmett with a smile. “Bye!”
She shrugs on her trench coat and walks away, hips swinging. She has to know we’re watching her.
As she moves off into the distance, I turn to Emmett. “Does this happen often?”
“No.”
No elaboration. His answer could mean this sort of things happens occasionally, or that it never happens.
I study him closely. He is entirely too calm and collected. Plus, he had that I-knew-it expression earlier, like this is something he’s done before many times. He didn’t react with much shock when she took off her coat, either.
When we were in La Jolla, Emmett told me he got along fine with his dad. So he must be at least somewhat comfortable with this kind of incident.
Just like that, all my anxiety over telling him about my pregnancy vanishes. I feel deflated. And that sensation’s soon replaced by annoyance and a vague sense of betrayal. I didn’t realize he and his dad have this kind of weird…relationship.
“I think I’m going to go home now,” I say finally. I’m pleased at how calm I sound.
Emmett peers at me. “Are you upset?”
“A naked woman showing up on your doorstep? Why should such a minor thing upset me?”
“Come on,” he says, spreading his hands. “She’s just some girl Dad sent over. I’ve never met her, and I don’t particularly want to meet her again.”
If he’s trying to make me feel like I’m overreacting, he’s succeeding. But I know I’m not being unreasonable. Maybe it’s normal to him for his father to send a woman over and have her get naked on his doorstep, but it isn’t in my w
orld. “That doesn’t change how I feel about the situation.” I raise my hands as I move toward my car. “I need some space, okay?”
He follows me out. “For how long?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
A beat. “Ten minutes?”
Men. “A day or two.”
“A day or two?” He gestures in the direction Brenda ran off. “Amy, come on. She’s not worth that.”
You’re blowing it out of proportion. You aren’t being cool.
“She might not be, but I need that much time to sort my thoughts.” I need to decide if I can partner with a man, who has random naked women popping up at home, to raise a child. Dad didn’t even date when I was growing up.