Page 61 of Fractured Frets

Valerie shuddered. “I don’t ever want to see that.”

Grinning, I shook my head. “No. I don’t want you to either.” I returned to my seat on the sofa.

Valerie clutched and squeezed Maddy’s hand as a sly, sorry-not-sorry smile curled across her mouth. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything too serious.”

“No.” Maddy sank onto the end of the coffee table, sitting between me and her mom. She threw me a sexy wink. “We were just talking about Slip’s next break. It’s his mom’s sixtieth in Italy. I’m gonna see if I can take off a week or so and go with him.”

“What?” Valerie grimaced. “No. No. No. You have work commitments. You can’t go gallivanting around Italy. You’ll come back ten pounds heavier.” She pinched Maddy’s arm as if testing for flab. “You certainly don’t need that. And...and...you can’t go. Who’s going to take me to my appointments if you’re away?”

With each rant from her mom, Maddy’s shoulders slumped an inch. “Mom, you’ll be fine. We’ll talk to Bridget, or I’ll hire someone else. I haven’t missed a day of work in four years. I’ve never asked for time off or delayed filming. I’m entitled to a few days of personal leave. This party is important to Slip, so I should be there with him.”

“Don’t be silly.” Valerie straightened the throw over her legs. “It’s just a birthday.”

Doubt washed through Maddy’s eyes.

A shudder jolted through my chest. I didn’t want Maddy to upset her producer or be stressed about her mom. But with my workload, I needed time out with my wife during my breaks. To chill. Relax. Reset. My family would survive without me. “Mads, it’s okay.” Leaning forward, I rubbed her back. “I’ll just come back to LA.”

“No.” She closed her eyes as if reassuring herself everything would be alright. “I want to come to your mom’s party. Work can’t deny me personal leave. It’s only for a few days of promo, not filming.” Maddy clasped Valerie’s hand and gave it a little shake. “And Mom...you’ll be okay.”

“But—” Valerie frowned. “But—”

“No buts, Mom.” Maddy rubbed the grooves etched into her brow. “I’ll sort everything out if I get the time off. Until then, let’s not worry.”

“Okay. Fine.” Valerie glared at me. Oh yeah . . . she wasn’t happy.

I just grinned. I loved that Maddy hadn’t swayed to meet her mom’s wishes. That was a first.

I slapped my hands against my thighs. “How about I order dinner? Everyone okay with Greek? I’ll get some salads, souvlaki, seafood, and keftedes.” Anything that involved salad shouldn’t raise an objection from Valerie, and it should stop her from hounding Maddy about her weight. Maddy had enough going on without that bullshit too.

“Thanks, babe.” Maddy patted my knee. “I’d love that.”

I swiped my cell phone off the coffee table and stood, kissed the top of Maddy’s head, then ambled over to the kitchen. My hip was grateful for the movement. Leaning against the counter, I ordered dinner online.

Maddy rose to her feet and veered around the sofa. “I’ll be back in a sec. I just need the restroom.”

I glanced up from my phone, unable to drag my eyes off Maddy’s ass as she crossed the floor in her tiny shorts. My dick liked the view too. Damn. My wife was hot. I hoped she could come to Italy. My family...most of them...would love her. Just like I did.

As she reached the hallway, her cell phone rang on the coffee table.

“Slip, can you get that please?” she hollered over her shoulder. “It might be Jodie about tomorrow.”

“Sure.” I loved going to events with Maddy. Tomorrow’s Women in Entertainment dinner would be no exception. While Maddy always looked sexy as fuck and gorgeous dressed in any old, worn-out clothes, she was pure glamor and sophistication when she was draped in couture. Some days, I still struggled to believe she loved me. That she was my wife. That I was worthy of someone so special and kindhearted.

If I could erase our trial marriage deadline and we could be together forever, everything would be fine.

I strode over to the coffee table. But as I bent to pick up Maddy’s cell phone, pain speared my hip. Fuck! Why didn’t I bring my pain-killers?...Because of time...it wasn’t time to take them. Shit.

Fighting down the agony, I focused on the caller ID. The screen lit with Dr. Avani Raithna’s name—Valerie’s doctor. Why wasn’t she calling Valerie? Was her phone battery dead? Was it on silent? Didn’t matter. I could let the call go to voicemail, but if it were something urgent following Valerie’s appointment today, they needed to know.

I tapped the screen to answer the call and held the phone to my ear. “Hey, this is Maddy’s phone. I’m Slip, her husband. Can I help?”

“Oh...hi. This is Dr. Raithna, from Studio City Medical. Sorry for calling so late. Usually my receptionist follows up on patients, but I was worried about Valerie. We haven’t been able to get in touch with her. She didn’t come to her appointment today.”

“Oh. Didn’t she?” Curiosity and concern held me intrigued as I eyed Valerie. She lay in her recliner, wiggling her toes. Her eyes were shut but a small smile curled the corner of her lips. She’d had a few drinks, but there was no sign of the usual fatigue embedded into every groove on her face. In the soft downlights, the pigmentation on her cheeks seemed darker. Had she been out in the sun? She should’ve known better than that. “Maybe she got the dates mixed up.”

“I understand.” Avani said. “We can all get our wires crossed sometimes. But she confirmed the appointment yesterday afternoon. I wanted to make sure she’s okay and not having a flare-up.”

“Oh. She’s here . . . and seems perfectly fine.” Too fine.

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