Father Of My Child... Mr Hollywood

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"His birthday?" Mrs Ainsworth's voice sounds with a sneer. "His birthday was two months ago."

"And I missed it... so did he since he was fil... I mean working."

Even from where I'm standing, she sounds smug.

"Mummy, why are we standing here?" Emma's voice calls a little too loudly. I freeze in my spot hoping that they didn't hear her but when I receive a halt in their conversation and footsteps I'm sure she was loud enough.

"Oh Katie." Mrs Ainsworth laughs. "Unfortunately, we have a meeting downstairs... go on first and I will be there in a second." I turn awkwardly and smile apologetically. I am in a state where I am sorry I've been caught eavesdropping so I say nothing and keep the bizarre smile on my face.

"I hadn't finished Alyssa's room and Emma left a few crumbs on her sofa."

"It's alright dear... I will have Melanie take care of it... its getting late."

I nod once and turn for the lift too embarrassed to say more to her. Down stairs the air is thick with tension. Melanie is pacing, Priscilla is standing with her arms folded over her chest and Michael is staring at a spatula as if it has grown legs. When I clear my throat, they stand straight like soldiers in the presence of authority and watch me with gaped expressions.

"Hello." I laugh nervously. "I was told that there's going to be a meeting." Their eyes go from me to Emma and as if connected by the same brain watch her for the same amount of time before their attention comes back to me. My nervous laugh is back again lingering longer than I want it to.

Priscilla stretches her lips into an uncomfortable smile before walking to Emma, taking her hand and pulling her towards the door where she stops before she exits.

"I've been briefed on what is happening so I'll keep her with me until you're done." I nod my approval and walk towards Michael's cooking station and offer him a smile.

"You okay." He asks. I am sure I catch a worried expression which makes me curious since I came in offering a smile.

"Great." I lie as I tap the counter nervously. He takes in a deep breath and heads for the fridge where he retrieves a container and places it into the microwave to warm the contents.

"You didn't come down for lunch." He says, busing himself with kitchen chores. He is quite swift with his moments and prances around the floor with the energy of a gazelle.

"I wasn't very hungry."

He looks up from the sink and smiles with what looks to be sympathy. I have been receiving this countenance from everyone around the house since the day I walked in that I have grown somewhat immune to them.

"Well I made your favourite today." The microwave beeps as he places an empty plate before me. I'm ready to decline but he is quick on his feet and before I know it I have a plate of chicken and mushroom risotto before me teasing me with its beauty. My mouth instantly waters.

"How did you know?"

"Well you and your daughter always dance when I give you food... but you literally leaped out of your seat last week when you put a spoon of this in your mouth."

I laugh "Really?"

"Yes really... I got you on my risotto recipe and your daughter, it was the lasagne." The laughter within me erupts like a volcano and I am only glad I do not have rice in my mouth otherwise I would have to spend the rest of my evening picking it out of Michael's hair like lice.