“I’m sorry, Bronson.”
Bronson turned from his cushioned chair to see Victoria standing next to him. As always, she appeared the picture of chic with her wraparound, sleeveless navy dress, gold jewelry and perfectly coiffed blond hair held back by her sunglasses.
Her eyes darted back down to the paper. “I just saw that earlier and tried to reach you, but my call went to your voice mail.”
“Don’t be sorry, Tori.” Bronson came to his feet, placing a peck on his sister’s cheek. “It’s not your fault the media sniffed out this story. It was bound to happen. I just hope they leave Mia alone.”
Victoria took a seat next to him and smiled. “I knew you cared for her.”
“Yes,” he said cautiously, because Victoria always had love on the brain. “I care. We’re not planning a wedding or even playing house together. But I do care.”
A little more than he was comfortable with.
Victoria waved a hand in the air. “I know you like to keep your feelings to yourself, so I won’t say I told you so when you propose.”
“Propose?”
Bronson groaned as he turned to see his mother only a few feet away. “No. There’s no engagement. Tori’s just fantasizing. Again.”
Olivia kissed both her children on the cheek before taking a seat at the patio table under the bright California sun, shielded by a vibrant orange umbrella.
“Well, I for one would be all for bringing Mia into the family,” Olivia declared. “She’s a wonderful woman.”
This was not what he was in the mood for today. He’d already lost sleep the past several nights over conflicting feelings for Mia. He needed to work this out on his own without his mother or sister influencing him. For pity’s sake, he was a grown man who produced multimillion-dollar blockbusters. Surely he could decide how to handle a petite, Italian beauty who had his stomach in knots.
“I’ve drawn up a budget for the film,” he told his mother, stopping midthought when the waitstaff approached because only three people knew about this project and they were all sitting at this table.
“Not a subtle change of subject, but a necessary topic.” Olivia smiled up at the waitstaff as the two ladies brought out carts complete with soufflés, fresh fruit, breads and juice. Once they were out of earshot, she spoke again. “Have you chosen a director?”
“I’ve got two in mind.” He took his napkin and placed it in his lap. “I’d like to discuss that with you.”
“Allow me to throw my choice in.” Olivia leveled her gaze at Bronson. “Anthony Price.”
Victoria’s audible intake of breath could barely be heard over the ringing in his ears. He set his cup of juice on the table, wishing for something a little stronger in his glass if this was the way his day was going to go. First the newspaper and now this preposterous request from his mother? She couldn’t be serious.
“Hear me out,” Olivia said, sitting straight up in her seat. “I have something important to tell you both, something that no one knows, and I’d prefer it stay that way.”
Every nerve ending in his body prickled as he glanced at Victoria, who seemed to be just as nervous about this impending declaration as he was.
“I’ve had some tests that have come back unsatisfactory, according to my doctor.” She looked from Victoria to Bronson. “I don’t expect this to be anything more than a nuisance, but I am having further testing to rule everything out.”
“What tests? What symptoms are you having?” Victoria asked.
“You’ve gotten a second opinion, right?” Bronson asked at the same time.
That genuine smile that had won her Oscars and worked its way into the hearts of millions spread across her face. But Bronson didn’t care about the audiences who’d come to love her. This was his mother, and if her health was in jeopardy, he wanted her healed. Now.
“This is why I didn’t want you two to know,” she told them. “I don’t want you to worry, and I don’t want you to look at me the way you are now. I assure you, I feel fine, and I’m convinced this next round of tests will prove the others wrong.
“I’ve been having some slight chest pain, and I just attribute it to stress. My stress test came back a bit off, and the doctor wants to go in a take a look.”
“When?” he asked.
“Monday.”
Bronson tried to grasp that his mother wasn’t invincible, as he’d thought. He’d been so self-absorbed lately, he’d ignored his mother and sister, trying to get his own life under control. Fear squeezed his chest as he stared at the woman who’d been his rock and source of strength for so long.
Which is why he had a hard time trying to comprehend what this had to do with Anthony Price.
“I’ll clear my schedule,” Victoria told her. “But what does Anthony have to do with any of this?”
Something flickered in Olivia’s eyes, something he couldn’t identify, which both worried and irritated him. She was hiding something.
“This medical nuisance has had me thinking.” She looked Bronson dead in the eye. “You’re the best producer in the business. No question. You cannot deny that Anthony is the best director. I want the best for the film we’ve written loosely based on my life, and I want you and Anthony to bury this animosity long enough to make this the best film ever.”
Fury burned through him. “Why are you so insistent? There’s more to this than your medical scare.”
Olivia reached for the butter and began to layer a very minimal amount onto her freshly baked banana bread. “This will be my last film, Bronson, and this is what I want.”
“Mother,” Victoria piped in. “You’re not retiring. Don’t even suggest this is the last film you’ll do.”
“Darling, as much as I love to be in front of the camera, it’s time for me to call it quits. I want to go out on top, and what better way than with my own story?”
Bronson stared down at the newspaper with the headline that continued to mock him.
He’d certainly had better days.
“You know why I hate Anthony. Asking him to work on this film is unacceptable.” Bronson came to his feet. “We’ll discuss directors after your appointment Monday, once we see what the doctors say. Until then, this topic is closed.” He turned to Victoria. “See you later, Tori.”
Walking away, Bronson didn’t know where to go from here. He needed to calm down from his mother’s request, he needed to grasp that his mother may have a heart problem and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
But first things first. He needed to go see Mia and talk to her about that damning picture on the front page of the newspaper.
Mia couldn’t believe the headline. She hadn’t heard from Bronson, but she knew he’d be up having brunch with his mother and sister. She’d so hoped this pregnancy wouldn’t get out until they were ready. The last thing she wanted was to cause more heartache for Bronson or to have the progress she’d made in getting him to open up encounter a setback.
She had a feeling he’d be dropping by after his brunch with his family. What she didn’t have a clue about was the mood he’d be in when he arrived.
Rubbing the swell of her baby bump, Mia tried to relax by the pool. She’d donned her black string bikini, not caring that her waistline was expanding more quickly than she’d expected. Her cell sent out a shrill ring, jarring her from her thoughts. Why hadn’t she left that thing inside?
Her fingers