Red Carpet Arrangement - Vicki Essex

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mentally counted the days to the end of the week, when he’d go back to Modesto, where Kat was surrounded by his family.

      A slight pang went through him. No, he didn’t miss her. And he didn’t want to see her—he simply wasn’t sure how she would react to his family, or how they’d react to her. Mom would be good to her, but his siblings... Well, they were a handful.

      Now that he had time to think about it, things could go very wrong.

      He wasn’t sure who to feel sorrier for.

      “SOMETHING WRONG WITH your sole?”

      Kat looked up from the fish filet in lemon sauce Riley’s sister Kaylee had prepared for her. She’d been trying to choke it down without gagging for the past half hour. “It’s fine. Delicious.”

      Riley’s “baby” sister—a whole four years older than Kat’s twenty-six years—beamed, showing long, white teeth against her tanned face. She was a wiry woman, pretty, but tautly held, as if her skin might snap if she smiled too hard. “I got the recipe from a woman in my drumming circle,” she said, and flipped her sun-streaked hair. “It goes against my vegan beliefs, but I know the baby shouldn’t go without meat. Still—” her shoulders locked into a shrug “—fish are the only animals I’m willing to kill.”

      So she’d been saying all week. Every piece of food Kat had put in her mouth had gone down with Riley’s sister pushing her own strict diet of nuts and seeds and organic this and that. She’d been using that supercilious tone with Kat from the moment they met, peppering her with questions about her diet and exercise regime, and what she was doing for the baby’s “spiritual welfare.”

      Trying not to strangle you had been Kat’s first thought. She put another mouthful of the slimy, too-lemony fish into her mouth, holding her breath as she chewed and swallowed. She normally liked fish, but the pregnancy had turned her off the texture and flavor. She hadn’t said anything, though. How could she? She was living off Riley’s family. She wasn’t going to turn away food that Kaylee the vegan had made especially for her. No, she’d eat it, feel wretched for a while, then go back to the guesthouse and make herself a peanut-butter sandwich.

      “Still no sign of Freddie?” Riley’s second sister, Mia, asked casually. Unlike Kaylee, the taciturn Mia never said much, having little to no opinion on her sister’s food or, well, anything. She was tall and fit, her tan complexion and the light sprinkling of freckles across her strong bone structure trophies of her career as a golfing instructor and semipro player. Despite Riley’s enormous house, she lived on her own and apparently only came around occasionally for dinner. Her words seemed to be as carefully measured and economical as her golf game.

      Winnie shook her head. “He’s still on deadline.” She gave Kat an apologetic look. “He goes into the zone when he’s under pressure. He’ll come over soon, I’m sure.”

      Riley’s brother, Freddie, was a comic-book artist who lived in his own apartment closer to the downtown area and only visited now and then to do laundry, eat or help his mother with a chore that required heavy lifting. Some of his framed sketches decorated the house. One of Kat’s favorites was a caricature drawing of the four Jacobsen siblings. Riley posed like an Oscar statue, a golf ball struck by Mia bouncing off his head. Kaylee, drawn with pigtails, hula-hooped with a menagerie of big-eyed cartoon animals frolicking around her, and Freddie, bearded and paunchy, sat sketching them all.

      “I’m looking forward to meeting him.” She put her fork down and patted her belly. “Wow, I’m stuffed. Thanks so much for dinner, Kaylee.”

      “It was nothing.” Her tone suggested otherwise. She glanced down at Kat’s half-full plate. “You should take that with you, in case you need a midnight snack.”

      “Thanks, I will.” She’d throw it all out as soon as she got back to her room. She couldn’t even look at the stuff without feeling queasy.

      She felt Mia’s eyes on her as she scraped her leftovers into a Tupperware container. Kat understood that her shortness didn’t stem from hostility, but rather thoughtfulness. She could tell Mia hadn’t entirely made up her mind about her. Kaylee, meanwhile, didn’t seem to have an internal filter, and said whatever she thought, no matter how rude or critical it came across. She wondered what Freddie was like, and how Riley, as the eldest, interacted with the three of them.

      They’re family now, she reminded herself with a sigh. Sweetpea was certainly going to have some interesting relatives.

      “Do you have plans for tomorrow?” Winnie asked. “I’m free to drive you anywhere you need to go.”

      “Thanks, but I’m thinking of sleeping in and taking it easy.”

      “You’ve been feeling all right, though? I could take you to the ob-gyn if you need—”

      “It’s nothing. I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

      “Are you warm enough at night? Or too hot? I can get you more pillows, or different ones—”

      “I’m fine. Really. It’s just the baby.” And being in a new, unfamiliar place. She was grateful for the plush guesthouse she’d been installed in, but nothing about her situation made her feel at home. “I just need—” space. To be alone. To do something on my own without being criticized or questioned “—to rest.”

      “You know it’s absolutely no trouble at all for me to drive you around,” Winnie reiterated. “I only work part-time at the bank these days, and I can get time off. Or Kaylee can drive you, if you need.”

      She caught Kaylee’s scowl, but didn’t react to it. “Thank you.”

      She’d only ask either of them if it were absolutely necessary to go out. The truth was, as restless and bored as she was alone in the guesthouse, it was almost preferable to spending all her time with Winnie. Riley’s mother was sweet, but her hovering was getting on Kat’s nerves.

      Not to mention that she got the feeling Kaylee was jealous of all the attention that her mother lavished on Kat and her unborn grandchild. It would explain her attitude.

      But, more than her own space or anything else, Kat wanted some of her independence back. The guesthouse gave her some privacy, but it wasn’t enough. Being around the Jacobsens all the time was beginning to stifle her. She felt trapped by kindness—asking Winnie to borrow her car would only get her chauffeured around, while asking to arrange a rental car felt greedy, somehow, even ungrateful.

      Maybe she was. Maybe she had to be, for the baby’s sake if no one else’s. If she didn’t get out on her own soon, she’d go stir-crazy.

      Back at the guesthouse, she opened her laptop and discovered yet another email from Jamie. It was the eighth one in four days, asking where she was, how she was doing, whether she could take pictures of where she was to reassure her she wasn’t in a rat-infested gulag. Her requests for photos were getting progressively more demanding. The latest message had been telling.

      At least let me know you’re not dead. I’m your friend—can’t you even spare me a minute to say hi?

      Jamie was not happy with her. But her demands smacked of something more than curiosity, as if she knew something.

      As much as it pained her to turn away from her friend, she deleted the email without replying.

      The guesthouse landline phone rang. She picked it up swiftly, hoping it was her mother.

      “It’s me.” Riley’s voice was stiff, and tired, too. A thrill went through her, followed by a tumbling in her belly. She hadn’t thought she’d missed him, but she had. “I wanted to call and check up on you.”

      He could’ve phoned four days ago when she’d first moved in, but he hadn’t. Of course, he was busy. She calmed down and told herself it was a courtesy call, nothing more. “Things are fine. The guesthouse is

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