Ian tapped at the keyboard just a moment before he sighed and reached for his tea. Looking around the room he said, “I know you’re here. You might as well show your face.”
Rodie tentatively peeked out from below the skirting of a chair in the corner. She blinked and slithered out, defeated and headed toward the door.
“It’s okay, Rodie.” Ian tapped his desktop. “Come here, girl. I could use the company.” The cat took a few steps toward his voice as he smiled wearily. “I’m hiding out, too. We might as well do it together.”
She hoped up on the desk and settled with one of those cat sounds. Ian leaned back and looked at her. “Do you know anything about Twitter?” He rubbed under her chin with his fingers. “Me either, but I’m trying to learn without making the whole network go down.”
Ian put his elbow on the desk, his chin in his palm and continued to scratch under Rodie’s furry gray chin. He was rewarded with a purr. “What do we do now, Fuzzball?”
The den door flew open. Rodie’s fur stood up straight as she arched her back and hissed. She shot from the desktop and out of sight.
Clare watched the gray blur with her hands on her hips. “What’s with the cat?”
“She always freaks before someone tries to kill me.” Ian went back to the laptop screen.
The woman rolled her eyes, curled her lip and waddled in the room. “We need to talk.”
“Talking would mean two people communicating verbally, Clare. That’s not how we seem to operate. You hurl threats and I sit quietly until you run out of steam and go my merry way unaffected.”
“Shut up and listen.”
“I rest my case.”
“First of all that has to go, and its uglier twin sister on the stairwell.” She pointed at the painting behind Ian’s head like one of those dogs Ronnie had in a book. “As of tomorrow I’m throwing out everything in this house and redecorating. You will not interfere.”
“Clare, you will not touch anything in this house.” Ian turned to look at “Untitled Masterpiece Part Deaux” as he liked to call it and back to the extremely pregnant woman pointing at it. “And you even look at either one of those paintings again and I will rip that baby from your womb and beat you to death with the umbilical cord. Am I clear?”
“I will not be threatened.”
Ian sat back in his chair. “You mean you’re the only one allowed to threaten?”
“I’m not threatening anything. I am simply making demands and you will adhere to them.” She squinted and rubbed her belly. “You will fire that Ripley person tomorrow morning.”
“I will not.” Ian squinted at her and leaned forward. “And I urge you not to try it yourself again. He now has a shoot to kill order.”
“Ian…” Clare plopped down in the nearest chair and did her best impression of being distraught. “He made sexual advances toward me.”
Ian laughed.
“He did and has on more than one occasion.” Clare slammed a fist down on the arm of the chair.
“Clare…” Ian managed to control himself. “Threatened to throttle, beat you senseless or fit you for cement shoes I could accept. Making sexual advances toward you…that’s just a bold face lie.”
“You are calling me a liar!” She seethed.
“Clare, Ripley is homosexual.”
“He is not!” She insisted.
“I’ve never actually seen him prove it, and really have no desire to, but I can assure you without a doubt…”
Seemingly on cue Ripley appeared at the door, Rodie cradled in one arm, the other behind his back. “Is everything alright in here, boss?”
“Fine, Ripley. Thank you.”
The mountain of a man nodded and began to step backward. He stopped in mid stride, cocked his head and asked. “Are you feeling alright, Ian?”
Ian nodded his head slightly. “Why?”
“You look a little…pekid?”
Ian bit his tongue hearing the Southernism come from the man’s mouth. “I think maybe I’m coming down with a little cold. Maybe its just stress.”
“What do you have to be stressed about?” Clare smirked.
“I’m fine but thank you for asking.” Ian ignored Clare.
Ripley shuffled the arm behind his back a moment and came in the room, dropping the cat carefully on the desk and putting his hand on Ian’s forehead. “You’re a little warm.”
Ian slapped at his hand. “I said I’m fine…mother. You’re just looking for an excuse.”
“I am not!” Ripley pouted.
The look on Clare’s face registered with Ian, who rolled his eyes at her then turned back to Ripley. “Ripley, I am fine. You deserve a night out. You’ve been my babysitter too long. I have Rodie here to protect me if the boogie man comes.” Ian finally turned to Clare and beamed. “Ripley has a date.”
Clare smirked. “I won’t wait up.”
“It’s only a late dinner.” Ripley raised an eyebrow at her. “And I don’t put out on the first date.”
“What’s her name?” Clare grinned.
“His name is Lee.”
“Oh, come on Ripples.” Clare crossed her arms highlighting her huge belly. “No one is swallowing your gay.”
“Pardon the pun.” Ian chortled.
“I can assure you.” Ripley looked down on the woman. “I have seen the mountains but never once had the urge to slide into the valley below.”
She squinted her eyes at him. “I don’t believe you. There is nothing about you that screams gay.”
“Just because I am homosexual doesn’t not mean anything about me has to be screaming, just as you’re being Southern means you dip snuff and carry a shotgun. Quite frankly, I found your comment to be rude, offensive and bigoted, but I take into consideration you’re only exposure to such things have been stereotypical and ill-informed thus giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Did you just call me an bitch?” She managed to find some hips to put her fists on.
“No.” Ripley smiled and turned to leave. “I just called you an idiot.”
“Did you hear that?” Clare’s head spun around.
“I have no problem with you being called either.” Ian smiled at her. “A spade’s a spade.”
“I will not sit here and allow you to…”
“Clare, shut up and sit down.” Ian shot Clare a look that made her do instantly as told. He turned to Ripley and smiled. “Ripley, you and Lee have a great time. I swear if I have one sniffle, I’ll call 911 first and you second.”
“I’m faster.” Ripley said.
“That’s why I always give 911 a head start.” Ian shooed him with his hands. “Go…put on the blue shirt and have a great time.”
“Blue shirt?” Ripley stopped and asked.
“The one with the Chinese collar, I think that’s what they call it. It brings out the color of your skin and stretches across your chest in just the right places.”
The mountain blushed. “Night boss.” He turned to leave.
“Use protection!” Ian yelled as Ripley disappeared.
“I don’t put out on the first date!” He yelled back.
“Maybe Lee does!” Ian cupped his mouth to make sure Ripley heard.
There was a thump. “Who put that wall there?” They heard Ripley say.
Ian turned his gaze to Clare. “How are you doing?”
“Like you care.”
“Of course I care.” Ian leaned back in his chair again. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Look, I know you’re scared, frustrated and upset, but quite honestly Clare, you’re not making it easy.”
“Easy?” Clare lumped forward. “I’m pregnant and broke. How can that be easy?”
“You’re right.” Ian picked up his cup and took a deep drink, then wiped his hand across his forehead. “This isn’t easy, but I meant the stress level. You haven’t done anything but screech, snipe and threaten. Granted you’ve always been a bit…abrasive, but you used to be human. What happened?”
“You knocked me up and tossed me on my keyster, that’s what happened.”
“If I had known, everything would have been very different, Clare.” He said very calmly and quietly.
“How could I tell you, Ian? You had a restraining order out on me.”
“Actually, I didn’t. You busted your way into the HRT offices and threatened people. HRT put out the restraining order. I’m the one who got it rescinded.”
“So I can come to your office?”
“Not a chance. It was dropped provided you never set foot on the premises again.”
“Well, that’s just peachy…”
“Focus here, Clare. That’s what I am seriously attempting to do. Let’s both try to calm down, let me get past the shock and then maybe we can make some rash decisions about what’s best for this baby.”
“I know what’s best for this baby, Ian, but you won’t listen.” She dropped her head and mumbled. “Like that should surprise me.”
“Can we just talk a minute? Please…” When Clare sighed Ian tried relaxing. “Now do you know whether it’s a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t really care.”
“Excuse me?”
“Wrong choice of words.” Clare bit her lip nervously. “I mean I didn’t ask anything except whether or not it was healthy. That’s all I care about.”
“Of course. When is your next appointment? I’d like to go with you.”
Clare’s head shot up. “No.”
Ian tilted his head and looked at her. “Clare, you claim this is my baby, too. I want to be there. We should do this together.”
“I thought you didn’t want us to be together.”
He sighed. “I’m not sure that getting married is the best thing, but like it or not we are both parents to this child, and I want to be a part of every aspect of it.”
Clare did her best to lean in. “It’s all or nothing Ian. Either we get married or you have no part in this baby’s life…ever…and I go to the media and tell my story.”
“This is all about you getting your way. Isn’t it?” Ian looked and Clare who sat there determined and smug gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles white. “If there’s one thing I have learned since coming to Hollywood, ironically, is that that’s not what family is all about. And like it or not, Clare, that’s what we have got to become if nothing else for the sake of our child.”
In respond she leaned forward and hissed, “I’ll sue you. Don’t think I wont!”
Rodie laid back her ears, stood on her claws and did the same. Ian stroked her tufts and she immediately responded to his touch with warmth. When the cat was calm, they both looked back at Clare.
“You know, for someone with no money, you sure seem to suing a lot of people. Where’s the cash flow coming from that is going to let you do that?”
“Don’t worry.” Clare smiled. “The law is on my side.”
“Fine.” Ian opened up the drawer in the desk, pulled out a business card and looked at it. “You want to play it that way, here.” He frisbeed the card to her. “Call this number.”
Clare picked up the card that landed on her belly. “What’s this?”
“My lawyer’s phone number. Have you lawyer call mine. We have nothing to say to each other now except through them.”
Ian started to shut the drawer and noticed an opened pack of Marlboro Gold 100s. He slipped one out and reached for the lighter.
“Don’t smoke around me!” Clare snapped. “I’m pregnant!”
Ian looked at her. “Then don’t be pregnant around my smoke.” He hoisted himself up and reached for his cane. “Never mind, I’ll go outside. Com’mon Rodie, let’s get some fresh night air. Maybe we can find a nice fat mouse for you.”
Clare watched him head toward the door, Rodie following closely behind. “You hate cats.”
Ian stopped and turned to her. “Right now I feel safer and more loved with a cat than you.” He started to go, Rodie at his heals but turned back to Clare for just a moment. “You might want to think about that.”
And he was gone. Clare pounded on the arms of the chair a moment and then burst into tears.
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