Page 17 of How Good It Was (Excess All Areas 3)

“A studio legally has to put fifteen percent minimum of a child’s salary into a Coogan account to protect it from anyone around the child. The rest goes to the parents to manage. Taxes. Reasonable expenses. Management fees. The balance is meant to be saved for the child. My parents spent all of what was left on houses and investments in their own names. We were dirt poor when I got my first role, now my parents lead an extravagant lifestyle.”

“How do you unravel all that?”

“With a lawyer and forensic accountants who go back and work out where all the money went, and where it should have gone. Resolving it will take a while. Meanwhile, I’m focused on my influencer income, and I changed all the passwords on my social media accounts before I flew out. Dad had access before. I set up a new bank account, independent of Dad, and I’ve started to contact my sponsors, asking them to deal directly with me.”

“It sounds like you have this all under control, though. Why do you need me?”

“Apart from the fact you are the father?”

Luke bounced his knee and eyed the Scotch he kept next to the fridge. “Yeah, apart from that.”

“Brands can be puritanical. They may ditch me because of the legal fight, or the pregnancy. That’s why I need you and an angle to announce the pregnancy.”

“Angle?” he asked.

“Yeah. Angle. You commit to being in a relationship with me for the next twelve months at least. We’d say we met when we met, but that we kept in touch in between, realised we couldn’t live without one another, and that we are now thrilled to be together and expecting. And maybe you could be in the content with me. Like videos of us doing baby stuff. Make it look as wholesome as it could be, without anybody knowing I got knocked up during a one-night stand with a total stranger.”

Luke’s mouth opened and shut, forming words that didn’t come out. He shook his head. “You want me to what? Hell no.”

Willow placed her hand on his thigh. “I need a fake relationship. Give me one year, and then I’ll go back to America, with my reputation intact, and you don’t have to have anything to do with us.”

“Wait, I didn’t say I didn’t want anything to do with you. I just meant ... It’s a lot.”

“I know. People often say that the first reaction is the one you should listen to. You made it clear last night that this isn’t what you wanted. I’m just asking you for twelve months. That’s all. You can go on tour; I’ll go back to the States. I’ll say I was missing home. Whatever. We could even pretend we are doing long-distance for a little while, and then say it didn’t work out. Part ways as the best of friends.”

“Jesus Christ, Will.”

“Look at it this way. You get to be around for the pregnancy, for the fun stuff like scans. And you’ll get to be there for the birth, assuming you want to. It’s a business agreement with a contract. I pay you for the twelve months in return for confidentiality. Then, I get full custody, move back home, and never ask you for a cent.”

My kid. Her. Me.

While he didn’t want a relationship, or to be a father right now, surely she wanted or needed something more than just a business agreement, right? “I don’t know, Will. That sounds awful.”

“It’s just a year. Hell, try it for a few months. At least help me make it appear that this baby and you and me mean more to you than that one night. I already gave your band a huge leg up the ladder. You would never have got a recording deal without me. And I feel like you owe me because you are fifty percent responsible for this anyway.”

Fuck my life.

“Why do I feel like I’m being blackmailed into something I’d do simply because it’s the right thing to do?”

Willow shook her head. “There’s no blackmail. You say no, I leave.”

“Fine. But we need rules. I’m not lying to my friends. And I’ve not been a saint since I last saw you.” He saw Willow wince and tried to ignore the flash of disappointment that he’d let her down. “Could one of those women pop up in the media? Sure.”

“It’s a chance I’m willing to take. We’ll spin it. We’ll say we hadn’t decided to be exclusive. That we were on a break because we couldn’t figure out how to make it work. Just ... there can’t be any more. Not for this to work.”

“You want to tie up my balls too?” Luke asked. “A fucking year of celibacy?” Now, he needed a cigarette. Or some of his Scotch.

Willow scoffed. “It’s not as though I’ll be getting any for a good long while.”

“I can’t do that.” Luke grabbed his hair and tugged it at the roots. “This is a lot of changes.”

“Again,” Willow said, pointing down at her stomach. “At least you don’t have to deal with throwing up and growing an alien.”

“Fine, but this isn’t a race to the bottom, Will. This business agreement will suck for both of us. You can’t really want this.”

Willow looked wistfully toward the windowpane, where rain pattered softly on the outside. “No, Luke. In an ideal world, I’d be older, my husband would love me, we’d be settled in a nice home, and he’d be excited about the baby. So, no. This isn’t what I want. But it’s what I’ve got and I’m trying to make the most of it. And you need to step up.”

“How does this work in practice, then?” Luke asked.

---