Winning Hollywood's Goodest Girl: A Surprise Pregnancy Romantic Comedy Read online

  Jesus Christmas, I thought he was gone. But it’s completely obvious that leaving for good was never what he intended. He really went back to New York to get his “affairs in order.”

  “You…you moved here? For me?”

  “Yeah,” he affirms with a nod. “You and the baby. Sorry I didn’t call, but to be fair, you never sent me your number.”

  He up and left everything in New York to come here…for me?

  The woman who lied to him. The woman who didn’t tell him she was pregnant because the shame and guilt of her lies were too overwhelming. Not to mention, the same woman whose life is a fucking mess and has her stupid fake fiancé that she can’t even stand currently sitting inside her living room right now….

  The responsibility of it all feels like a thousand pounds on my shoulders.

  “Harrison, I don’t really know what to think of…well, us,” I whisper, staring down at my bare feet. God, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to handle this. I feel way too responsible for being the reason he uprooted his life. “I mean, just because we slept together doesn’t mean we’re right for each other.” My words feel wrong and bitter as they leave my lips, but somehow, someway, this enigma of a man just takes it all in stride.

  “Oh,” he says with a laugh. “No. I mean, sure, I like you, but that’s not the idea here, Rock. No strings, no complications. I just want to be here for you and the baby we made together. I’m not expecting you to drop everything for me. Hell, I’m not expecting you to drop anything for me. I just—”

  “Yet, you dropped everything in your life for me,” I respond as I worry my teeth into my lip. “What about your friends? Your job? Your—”

  “Rock,” he gently interrupts me. “I’m not sacrificing as much as you think I am. I’ll be working bicoastally for HawCom. Truthfully, it was a move the company already needed to make. And I’ll go back to New York from time to time. Don’t feel guilty about this, okay? This is my choice,” he says, conviction evident in his voice. “I want to be a part of the baby’s life. And seeing as you live here, and the baby lives here, it makes sense to me that if I want real, constant contact, I’m going to have to live here too.”

  “Simple as that, huh?” I ask and he nods.

  “Simple as that.”

  Tears spring to my eyes, and I have to bite at my tongue almost viciously to stop them. Still, I allow myself the vulnerability it takes to put my arms around his shoulders and pull his body close to my own for a hug.

  He settles his hands tentatively on my hips before burying his face in my hair and smiling. I can feel it against my ear. “We made a baby, Rock. I can still hardly fucking believe it.”

  I giggle, the snot in my near ugly cry making it sound a little sniffly. “Me either. And I’ve got the dang thing growing inside of me.”

  Harrison pulls away first, the smile responsible for the curve of his mouth stretching all the way into the light green flecks in his eyes.

  “Do you want to come inside?” I ask shyly. I’m not usually the overly introverted type, but this is a situation I’ve never even come close to walking through before. How do you treat the father of your unborn baby when you aren’t dating, but you don’t have an ugly, sordid past of divorce and fights and hurt feelings?

  I don’t know the answer, but my body seems to know enough for me that I don’t really need to. The baby seems content when he’s around, and if I’m honest, so do I. “We’re in the middle of a meeting right now, but I have a doctor’s appointment later today. You could…come if you want to?”

  His responding smile damn near takes my breath away. “I’d love that. Yeah.”

  “Well, come on in, then.”

  I push open the door, holding it wide behind me as Harrison steps in, and it takes less than a second for all eyes to be on us.

  Truthfully, though, I’m shocked I didn’t at least find Heidi with a glass against the wall for better eavesdropping.

  “Look who’s here,” I say excitedly, but the response from the room is considerably less enthusiastic.

  Harrison doesn’t let it bother him—at least, not that I can see.

  Ben Huddleson is the first to climb off the couch and stick out his hand. It’s not his normal behavior, and seeing as he has no idea who Harrison is, I have to believe he thinks he’s someone important in the business.

  Harrison’s smile is slightly brittle as he takes Ben’s hand in his own, but he doesn’t falter.

  “Ben Huddleson. I’m the fiancé.” My chest tightens as Ben reaches out to me and puts an unwelcome hand on my stomach, a physical implication of the rest of his role. Harrison’s face is a mask devoid of emotion, but I can only imagine what’s simmering below the surface. This is so freaking uncomfortable I can hardly stand myself. What am I supposed to do here to make this bearable?

  I chew on my lip and shift from foot to foot, but when nothing else seems even remotely viable, I pull a Leighton Bossdale and check out as a matter of convenience. Leighton Bossdale, by the way, was a girl in my first acting class who used to faint all the time. Call me a coward, I don’t care. But it’s the only damn way I can slither myself out of this awkward situation before everyone in the damn room chokes on it.

  Eyes shut, I’m hugely conscious of the way I go down, making sure to bend my knees enough to cushion the fall.

  The room erupts into chaos around me, but Harrison is the first person to take any real action, checking my pulse with care and putting an ear to my mouth to check for breathing.

  His smell envelops me in its comfort.

  “She’s all right. Probably just got light-headed.” He moves his hands to the sides of my face and elevates my chin as he talks to me. “Rocky, wake up, baby.” He taps my face off with his hand gently, and I do some of my best acting as I come back to consciousness.

  “Rock? There you are. You’re okay,” he assures me calmly. “Does anything hurt?”

  I shake my head gingerly in his hands, studying the varying shades of green in his eyes with unchecked scrutiny. If there’s ever a time I can get away with being creepy in my stare, it’s now. I don’t waste the opportunity.

  Good Lord, he’s handsome. My baby daddy is truly a certified fox.

  “Everybody clear the couch,” Harrison orders. With one arm behind my knees and the other around my back, he scoops me up from the floor like I weigh nothing.

  “Must have paid a visit or two to Tommy John’s while you were in New York, huh?” I ask, still staring deep into his eyes, and he laughs.

  “You remember that?”

  I nod. Truth is, I remember everything from that night with embarrassing detail.

  Pretty sure you mean you remember everything about him…

  Everyone scatters from the couch as he approaches it and lays me down, tucking a throw pillow behind my head with gentle precision. “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

  I shake it.

  No, no. Hitting my head was not a part of my choreography. God, Raquel. Pretty sure you’re going to have to take the truth of this to your grave.

  “I feel fine,” I confirm. “Just got a little dizzy.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire!

  “All right, just take it easy.” He smirks, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from laughing as he continues, “Maybe your fiancé can get you a glass of water and a snack. Something to bring up your blood sugar a little.”

  Ben snaps out of his self-involved stupor and nods. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, I can…I can do that.”

  The thought of Ben Huddleson finding his way around a kitchen to do something for a woman almost makes me snort.

  And not like a cute little squeak—a full-on garbly, throaty, phlegm-filled snort.

  Harrison raises an eyebrow, and I have to wonder how fooled he really is. Or if he’s hot to my game.

  Ben finally returns with a glass of water and a protein bar. “I’m not really sure what works to bring up blood sugar. Will this protein bar work?”

 
; I suck my lips into my mouth in an effort to hide my amusement. God, I’m a little embarrassed for him.

  Harrison takes the protein bar, and in a weird plot twist, coddles Ben much more than I would have. “This is great. But if you can find maybe a candy bar or even a glass of orange juice if there isn’t any candy, that’d be great.”

  Ben nods enthusiastically. “Sure, sure.” I watch as he takes off back into the kitchen, and I lower my voice to make sure no one else hears.

  “That was…nice.”

  Harrison shrugs and flashes a secret wink in my direction. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”

  I have to bite my lip to keep myself from bursting into laughter.

  But it doesn’t take long for my amusement to fade. “God, I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry?” He tilts his head to the side. “For what?”

  “For all of…this. I know it’s complicated. Hell, complicated isn’t a strong enough word for just how damn complicated all of this is for you.”

  Harrison smiles. “Don’t worry about me, Rock. It’s sweet that you want to, really, but I promise I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for a really long time.”

  “It’s just…” I glance at Ben as he fumbles through my kitchen some more, Heidi now helping.

  “I know the score,” Harrison says quietly. “I came anyway.”

  He came anyway.

  Despite all the drama. Despite my crazy life.

  And without a single expectation.

  This man moved to LA to be here for me and the baby—our baby—that sits nestled inside my belly.

  God, Harrison. You sure are something.

  Raquel

  If only my last name were Balboa.

  Maybe then, I’d be able to get my freaking point across to the evil lady with the snaggletooth.

  I know that’s not the most flattering description for a woman I’ve spent the better part of my adult life working with, but it was all the baby’s idea. And I can’t be held responsible for the wily ways of my buddy in utero.

  “I don’t care,” I yell at Heidi—aka snaggletooth—unwilling to compromise on this. “Figure it out! Pretend he’s the driver, for all I care. He’s coming to the freaking doctor with me!”

  “There are going to be questions. People are going to—”

  “He’s here, Heidi,” I don’t hesitate to cut her off. “He’s here, despite all the other bullshit and back-seat living and subversion of power, and he’s here because he wants to be a part of this baby’s life. I’m going along with everything else you’ve planned for me. And right now, you need to figure out a way to make it okay for him to come to the doctor with me. Period.”

  Heidi narrows her eyes, but I arch my eyebrow. As a kid, I used to stand up for myself all the time. I was headstrong and full of backbone. Of course, I haven’t used it in a while, but on this, I won’t yield. Harrison deserves to be a part of this if he wants to be.

  Frankly, it’s a freaking miracle he does, one that thousands of knocked-up girls all over the world only dream of.

  “Fine.” She huffs. “But you default to my discretion on how we make that happen. I don’t want to hear a word of protest from you about what I come up with. I’ll get him into the doctor’s office, but you are going to have to go along with everything that leads up to that if you want it to happen, understood?”

  I nod. I know it’s complicated. I’ve played the shell game to get away from photographers. Trust me, I understand. All I care about is that Harrison ends up in that office with me. I can deal with the rest. And I’m sure he’ll deal with it too. He’s dealt with everything else already, and somehow, he’s continued to do it all so well.

  We step back out into the living room, and Ben and Harrison both look up in unison. Ben’s interest quickly fades, but Harrison’s eyes stay squarely on me.

  “Everything okay?” he asks softly.

  I nod, stepping to the side as Heidi makes her way to the center of the room.

  “Harrison, you’re going to go with Wilson. You’ll go on ahead to the doctor’s office, and you’ll wait there until this afternoon. We can’t risk having you enter the premises even remotely close to the time Raquel does.”

  What the fuck? He’s supposed to wait there all day?

  I swing my head around, a frown poised and ready, when Heidi meets my gaze with pointed eyes. I made an agreement that says I don’t question the way she wants to do things as long as it gets him in the building.

  It freaking burns like liquid lava, but somehow, I manage to swallow my words back.

  Harrison’s watchful gaze moves from me to Heidi, and then he simply nods.

  God.

  “Raquel and Ben will arrive this afternoon. Press will be there, I can guarantee it. You’ll need to be conscious of this. That means there needs to be some genuine affection between the two of you. Understand me?”

  Ben waggles his eyebrows, and it takes a Herculean effort to offer a short nod of understanding, but I manage.

  What I don’t manage to do is look at Harrison. I can’t. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking of me and this whole charade in this moment.

  Makes sense since you’re currently in denial about what you think of yourself and this goddamn Hollywood circus in this moment.

  Ugh. I blink my eyes to clear the thoughts out of my head, the ones that would hold the power to make me spiral.

  Harrison stands as Wilson approaches him from behind, taps him on the shoulder, and jerks his head toward the door. I take a step in his direction, intent to apologize before he spends the next God knows how many hours waiting for me in some medical supply closet, but Heidi puts a hand to my shoulder and pulls me back.

  “Alejo and Roberta need to fix your hair and makeup before we go to costume fittings, Raquel. Why don’t you go shower now? They’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  When she finally finishes her spiel and I look back at the door, Harrison and Wilson are gone.

  Son of a bitch.

  By the time I make it to Beverly Hills Obstetrics six hours later, the day feels like it’s lasted a million hours. Between my constant internal monologue about Harrison and what he’s doing and what he’s thinking and whether or not he’s getting angry about waiting and why he’d want to stick around for someone like me, I’ve been primped and fitted and interviewed. Not to mention, I’ve done it all in heels much too tall for a woman with a messed-up center of gravity.

  And beyond all of that, I’ve been privy to the life and times of Ben Douchebag Huddleson. To say I’m tired of this dude’s complete lack of self-awareness is an understatement.

  I am complicated and spoiled and many, many things. But Ben Huddleson is a diva—and not the good kind that Beyoncé sings about. If he tells me to smile one more time, I swear I’m going to go full-on Halsey “Nightmare” on his ass.

  Lucky for me, he’s also signed on to be my accessory for the next one-to-three years. Yay. I really should have invested in a purse instead. Or a scarf. I don’t really wear scarves, but compared with Ben Huddleson, it’s suddenly feeling really useful.

  Ben steps out of the car first when we pull up to the building, reaching back to help me out as photographers go crazy snapping as many shots as they can.

  I shield my face like I would from the sun and carefully put one foot in front of the other until we reach the entrance of the building. Once inside, we’re protected by the sanctions of medical privacy, and Ben pretty quickly forgets what it’s like to help a woman do anything.

  He lets go of my hand and immediately takes out his phone to scroll through something. God forbid he doesn’t keep his Instagram followers happy with another moody selfie.

  I head for the elevators, and when I look back, he’s trailing slowly behind.

  I hold the doors for him—who even knows why—but he doesn’t offer a thank-you. In fact, he doesn’t even look in my direction as we ride the six floors up to the office of Dr. Sabrina Simpson.

  According
to Heidi, she’s the go-to OB-GYN for celebrities, and everybody who’s anybody has their baby delivered by Dr. Simpson in the private wing of Cedars-Sinai. Of course, never missing an extravagant, putting out the perfect image beat, Heidi already booked my suite for the delivery, a three-bedroom luxury accommodation with a private delivery room and room service for any food imaginable—after the birth, of course. That’s the funny thing about medicine—you can get a whole bunch of fancy shit, but at the end of the day, you’re still going to be stuck eating ice chips before the blessed debut, no matter who you freaking are.

  When the elevator opens, I grab Ben’s elbow and force him out quickly. He startles, snapping an offended “Hey!” but I’m done waiting for him to dawdle.

  Harrison’s been at the office all day—literally. I’m getting in that freaking place and ditching my fake fiancé beard as fast as humanly possible so I can finally see the only two people I’ve wanted to all day—Harrison and the baby.

  When we step inside the waiting room, Heidi’s clearly already done her work because it’s empty aside from the receptionist.

  I step up to the window, but I don’t have to say anything before the girl at the desk smiles and jumps up from her chair.

  “Right this way, Ms. Weaver.”

  I nod my thanks just as Ben turns on his most charming smile. Flirting with the receptionist at my obstetrician’s office should probably be off-limits for my phony fiancé, but that doesn’t seem to occur to him and I’m too tired to suggest it. Truthfully, I don’t really care all that much either. The less time I have to spend talking to Bimbo Ben, the better.

  Instead, I roll my eyes and follow the perky blonde down the hall to patient room eight.

  She swings the door open in front of me, and I say my thanks as I step inside. Ben steps in too, and Heidi and Harrison are already in there.

  Thank God.

  Heidi jerks her chin to Ben to step back outside and follows him down the hall to some other, undisclosed location. I honestly couldn’t give two shits where they’re going. All I care about is that I’m finally here, at my appointment, and Harrison is here too.