A Los Angeles Passion
Autor:in
Sherelle Green
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Harlequin🏰 Historical
HarlequinChapter 1
Trey Moore could barely conceal his anticipation as he ran his long fingers over the smooth, creamy piece of his latest obsession.
“That’s it,” he whispered, pinching at a couple of curled edges that were beautifully laid out on the table before him. “Come to me, baby.”
For months, he’d been preparing for this very moment. Trey reached for his scotch on the rocks before sitting on the high chair of his dining room table. He took a measured sip of the cool liquid and observed the printed cream-colored pages of his screenplay, which was currently divided into scenes.
Trey had been cooped up in his Brentwood, LA, estate for nearly seventy-two complete hours, and he was no closer to being finished with his latest screenplay than he was before he’d taken his hiatus.
For Trey, there was nothing more frustrating than having writer’s block when his agent and producers were on his back for the next Hollywood hit. He’d known, the minute he’d accepted this job, that he’d run into a few issues toward the end. He prided himself on only agreeing to write screenplays for stories that he truly believed were special in their own way. However, even he’d admit that, initially, he hadn’t seen the producer’s vision behind this particular project. As time grew and he let the story line foster in his head a bit, he’d begun to change his mind.
Every time Trey wrote a screenplay, he invariably got that feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’d figure out how to tie up every loose end in the story finally. Call it writer’s intuition or good old-fashioned luck, he always knew instinctively that he’d be able to finish things satisfactorily, and just an hour ago, he’d gotten that hunch again.
The feeling had come a little later than he’d liked, but luckily, he still had a couple of weeks to pull perfection from the last few scenes he’d written down in an effort to appease his agent and producers. It was mid-September and he hadn’t promised them anything final until mid-October.
Taking another sip of his scotch, he picked up one of the action scenes and read his handwritten sticky notes plastered across the paper. “Come on, Trey,” he said, closing his eyes. “What’s missing here?”
He kept his eyes closed as he imagined the scene playing out in his mind as it would in the movie. He was only partially into his vision when he heard keys jingling in his front door. Trey opened his eyes and glanced down at his rose gold watch.
“Carmen,” he said aloud as he shook his head and headed toward his front door. There was only one person who could be coming into his home at eleven o’clock at night.
“What do you want?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest the moment the door peeked open.
“Dang, big bro. Is that any way to greet your favorite sister?”
“You’re my only sister.”
“Precisely the reason you should be more grateful to see me.”
“You’re right,” he said with a laugh as he reached for the car seat that held his nephew, Matthew. “Hey, M-dog,” he said as he picked up the six-month-old. “How’s my boy doing?”
“Ugh.” Carmen frowned. “Why do you insist on calling him M-dog?”
“Because it’s way better than you and Mom insisting on calling him Matty. There’s nothing manly about the nickname Matty. Are you trying to raise your son to permanently be in the friends zone with every girl he meets?”
“Shut up,” Carmen said, lightly slapping Trey’s shoulder. “M-dog isn’t a good nickname, either. You’re lucky I love you because had anyone else called him that, I would have nipped it in the bud right away.”
Trey smiled, knowing she meant it. Although Trey and Carmen didn’t have the same father, they were extremely close. Trey’s stepdad—who was also Carmen’s father—had been around for most of his life, and since Trey’s relationship with his own father was strained, he appreciated his stepfather.
Through his biological dad, Reginald Moore, Trey also had two half brothers, Derek and Max. Since they all had different mothers, they hadn’t been too close growing up. Like him, Derek also had an uneasy relationship with their father. Actually, Derek’s relationship with Reginald was much worse than Trey’s. Max was the only son who was close to Reginald, because he’d had the benefit of growing up with Reginald in his life and always had him around.
“Have any scotch?” Carmen stepped away from the foyer and walked into the kitchen area that was connected to the dining room and living room.
“You already know I do.” Trey handed baby Matthew back to his sister as he pulled out a glass to pour scotch. “I thought you weren’t drinking any liquor, though? When did that change?”
“Oh, it didn’t,” Carmen said with a sneaky smile. “The scotch is for you.”
Trey stopped midpour. “For me? I already have a glass I was sipping on before you arrived.”
“Great. Then maybe you should get that glass.”
Trey leaned against the counter. “Enough stalling, Carmen. I’m happy to see you and my nephew, but why are you here?”
Carmen nuzzled her nose with Matthew’s tiny button before speaking. “Well, as you know, Max has been trying to get me a few gigs, but even with his connections as my talent agent, I haven’t gotten a lot of bites.”
Trey nodded, well aware of Carmen’s frustration with her acting career. His sister was talented, and seeing that their mom was a famous actress in her day, Hollywood expected that at least one of her children would follow her path. Surprisingly, Trey had found his niche in LA as a prominent screenplay writer. However, Carmen was still trying to emulate their mother. Trey knew that all she needed was a big break to showcase her talent, and he was hoping that Max, his half brother and Carmen’s agent, could help her in any way possible.
“So, it looks like my hard work is finally paying off. I landed a minor role on a weekly television series.”
“That’s great, sis.” Trey gave her a quick hug, careful not to crush Matthew. “I knew you’d get a break soon enough.”
“I’m really excited,” Carmen said, beaming from ear to ear. “I couldn’t wait to tell you. I even wanted to tell Scott and gloat a little, but I don’t want to jinx anything.”
Scott was Carmen’s ex and Matthew’s father. Trey had always gotten along well with Scott, but Scott didn’t support Carmen’s dream of becoming a full-time actress, so the two had split right before Carmen found out she was pregnant. Trey was proud of his sister for not letting her dream of spending the rest of her life with Scott and raising a family together deter her from following her other goal of becoming an actress.
“I understand that.” Trey playfully nudged her on the head like he’d done since she was little. “When do you start filming?”
“Funny you should ask.” Carmen perked up. “I’ve been informed that it will take two weeks to film the pilot episode and I’m needed on set starting tomorrow. Which brings me to the reason I’m here.”
Trey squinted his eyes when Carmen glanced from him to Matthew, then back to him. “Oh, no, sis. You’ve got to be kidding me. You already know I’ve got this thing to finish. Hell, I haven’t even been out the house in days.”
“I know, Trey. And I wouldn’t ask if I had other options. I need someone to watch Matthew for two weeks while I film.”
“The full two weeks!” Trey didn’t mean for his voice to carry, but just the thought of him babysitting a six-month-old while trying to make this tight deadline was enough to send him into a slight panic, and Trey was not the panicky type. “Are you sure I’m the best option?”
“Best? Probably not. Only? Absolutely. You already know that Mom and Dad are on their African safari. And Scott is traveling between New York and Miami throughout the rest of this month on business, so he’s not even in LA. I would ask Scott’s parents if they weren’t in Germany for the next few weeks. And I can’t get a two-week nanny on such short notice. I know the timing isn’t ideal for you, but I could really use your help right now.”
Carmen shot him her big-puppy-dog-eyes that usually did the trick when she was trying to convince him to do something he didn’t want to do. Trey lifted Matthew’s tiny hand in his.
“Carm, I’ve never watched a child on my own for that long, let alone an infant.”
“You used to watch me when I was little and you’re only eight years older than me.”
Trey shook his head. “The first time I babysat you on my own, I was twelve and you were four. That’s hardly an infant.”
“Whatever.” Carmen shrugged. “The point is, you did fine back then and I’m sure you’ll do fine now. There will be other times you have to watch your nephew, so you might as well start now. Plus, I really need your help. I’ve been hoping to land a gig like this and it may just be the opening I’ve been waiting for.”
Trey sighed. He really did want Carmen to go for her dreams and he knew firsthand that the set wasn’t a good place for infants. He recalled a time when his stepdad had been out of town and the babysitter had gotten sick. So his mom had been forced to bring him and a colicky Carmen on set for a movie she was shooting. It hadn’t been pretty.
His eyes landed back on Matthew’s adorable brown face and chubby baby cheeks. “Okay,” he said reluctantly. “I’ll babysit M-dog for two weeks.”
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” Carmen kissed Trey’s cheek before handing Matthew to him. “Thank you so much, big bro. I owe you big-time!”
“I plan on collecting, too,” he said with a laugh. His joke fell on deaf ears because Carmen was already halfway to the front door. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back.” Ten minutes later, Trey was sorry he’d asked. It took no time for his home to go from the ultimate bachelor pad to a nursery straight out of an HGTV show.
“Carm, what is all this stuff?”
“This,” she said, waving her hands around everything she’d placed in his living room, “is everything you will need to turn Casa De Trey into Matty’s Baby Manor.”
Trey handed Matthew back to his sister as he tried not to freak out by all the paraphernalia scattered around. Baby swing. Baby mat. Baby carrier. Baby bathtub. Blankets. Stuffed animals. Pop-up crib. Diapers. Bottles. Pacifiers. His mind couldn’t even comprehend all the stuff needed to care for an infant.
“What in the world is all this?” he asked as he pointed to a mound of what appeared to be pieces of some type of toy.
Carmen smiled. “That’s Matty’s ExerSaucer.”
“His exer...what?”
“His ExerSaucer.” Carmen pulled out her phone with her free hand to show him a picture of Matthew sitting in one. “It’s like an activity center for babies. It helps keep him busy. I had to break it apart to get it in my car, but I figured you could put it back together.”
“Damn, Carmen. You might as well have brought over your entire house.”
“I tried,” she said with a laugh. “Also, even though Matty is a baby, try to limit the cursing around him. You never know what types of things babies pick up at a young age. And I also have a large tote bag that has his formula in it with instructions on scoops and how much water to add. His medicine is in there, too, as well as his Baby Bullet.”
Trey’s eyes widened. “Baby bullet? Do I even want to know what that is?”
“It’s what you will use to blend his baby food.” Carmen searched the floor until her eyes landed on a bin of baby food. “This bin should have all the food needed to blend your own recipes. Nothing too fancy. Just sweet peas. Mashed bananas. Stuff like that. It’s not enough for two weeks, but should be enough for a week. And it needs to be refrigerated.”
Trey lifted the bin and walked to the kitchen to place it in the refrigerator. He’d only agreed about twenty minutes ago, and already, he had to remind himself why he was doing this. Carmen’s phone rang, interrupting his thoughts.
“Oops, I forgot I had this call. I have to take this.” She rushed to Trey and handed him Matthew. “I’m going to miss my baby boy. Mama loves you,” she said to her son as she showered him with kisses before answering her phone.
“This is Carmen. Can you please hold for a moment?” She glanced at Trey. “Are you good? You know you can call me anytime. In the large tote, I also left detailed instructions on everything, so you should be okay. He’s already been fed tonight and I just changed him before we arrived. Tonight should be easy since he pretty much sleeps through the night. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
Carmen was already out the door before Trey could formulate a response. Once they were alone in his home, Trey glanced down at the wide-eyed baby in his arms, unsure if he should be more worried about babysitting Matthew or if Matthew should be worried about him being the babysitter.
“We’ll get through this, right, M-dog?” In response, Matthew blew a couple of spit bubbles before scrunching his forehead. “What does that face mean?” Trey asked, observing his nephew a little closer. “Are you agreeing with me?”
Matthew gurgled some more bubbles before he spit up and let out a loud wail.
“Oh, hell,” Trey yelled as the spit-up ran from Matthew’s mouth down to Trey’s hand. Acting fast, Trey grabbed one of the blankets Carmen had left and began wiping off the baby’s face.
Several minutes later, Trey still couldn’t get Matthew to stop bawling. “Could this night get any worse,” he said between the wails. On cue, his iPhone rang, displaying the last name he expected to see. Reginald Moore? What does he want?
Trey answered on the fourth ring. “Hello, this is Trey.”
“Trey, this is your father. I have both your brothers on the line as well.”
Trey pulled back to look at his phone as if it were contagious. “Max and Derek both?”
Each of his brothers greeted him. Trey rarely talked to his father and both brothers, so if they were all on the line, it had to be important.
“Trey, is that a baby in the background?” Reginald asked. Trey glanced down at Matthew, who was still crying.
“Yeah, I’m babysitting my nephew. Let me put you all on a brief hold.” Acting quickly on his feet, Trey managed to configure the pop-up crib with one hand and carefully place Matthew in the middle of the crib. As soon as he popped the pacifier into his nephew’s mouth, the crying stopped.
Thank goodness. Trey glanced back at his phone, which was still on hold. One problem down. One more left. He sat on his large plush armchair that was next to the crib before resuming the conversation. “Okay, I’m back. So, tell me...what’s the purpose of this call?”
He tried to leave the bitterness out of his voice, but it had been a long few months, and a call with his father never ended well.
Reginald cleared his throat. “Now that I have all of you on the phone, there’s something very important that I need your help with.” There was a slight pause before Reginald continued. “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I would never do anything to hurt Prescott George, and I definitely did not do anything to the San Diego chapter. Granted, it was hard for me to accept that they would be named chapter of the year, but I would never stoop so low as to sabotage them. I gave Prescott George more than twenty-five years of my life, and as I’ve stated before, someone framed me.”
Trey squeezed the bridge of his nose as his father continued to voice his innocence. Prescott George—or the Millionaire Moguls, as they were informally known—was a prestigious, all-male national organization that was as powerful as it was discreet. Until six months ago, Reginald had been a respected board member of the LA chapter of Prescott George, where his sons were also members.
After an internal investigation that proved Reginald was guilty of trying to sabotage the Prescott George San Diego chapter to keep them from winning the annual award, Reginald had been kicked out of the organization.
Trey, along with his half brothers, was horrified by the accusations and embarrassed that their father would try to harm the chances of another chapter. All of Reginald’s sons were subjected to an internal investigation to make sure they hadn’t assisted Reginald in his activities. And even though all three of them were cleared, the damage to the Moore name had already been done.
“I never believed you could be guilty, Dad,” Max said. “I agree with you. I think you were framed.”
Trey huffed into the phone. Innocent? I doubt it.
“Max, thank you for believing me,” Reginald said. “Trey. Derek. I assume your silence means you don’t believe I’m innocent. Quite frankly, I didn’t expect either of you to believe me, but my innocence isn’t the only situation I need to discuss with my boys.”
The endearment Reginald voiced was probably the first Trey had ever heard. My boys? Max was close to Reginald, so it wasn’t strange to hear him refer to Max with affection. However, Trey couldn’t recall a time when his father had ever addressed him or Derek in any sort of way that indicated he was proud to be their father.
“Haven’t you involved us in your recent situations enough?” Trey asked, finally getting over the surprise of the call. “It wasn’t enough for our character to be questioned because of this investigation, but now you suddenly decide you want to have a heart-to-heart with all your sons when you’re at your lowest?”
“I agree,” Derek said. “Our lives were turned upside down from your mistakes. I think I’ve heard enough on this phone call.”
“Just hear me out.” Reginald cleared his throat again. “It’s a little over three months before Christmas, and although I know I’m decades too late, it’s time for me to make amends. When the investigation was going on this past spring, after a while, I became too weak and tired to continue to protest my innocence. But now I can’t imagine going into the New Year with this burden on my back.”
“What are you saying?” Max asked. “Why now, Dad?”
“Because now is all I’ve got, son.” Reginald sighed. “I’ve just been informed that I have stage four prostate cancer. The doctors don’t think I will live past the New Year, and although I know my sons don’t owe me anything, I’m innocent of these crimes I’ve been convicted of. Before I die, I’d love nothing more than to clear my name, and my hope is that my sons will help me do that and preserve the Moore legacy.”
Trey sat upright in his chair. What? He’s dying? In some ways, Trey had felt like Reginald Moore would live forever, if only to remind him that he hadn’t had the benefit of growing up with a father. Reginald didn’t make Trey’s top-one-hundred list of favorite people in the world, but even he’d admit that he’d always imagined Reginald lingering somewhere close by, hoping to appear on the list one day.
“Wow,” Trey whispered, unable to take the sudden silence that filled the line. It only took a few moments for him to feel like the breath had been sucked from his lungs. Being a screenplay writer, he loved several things about films, but one of his favorite parts of a movie was the element of surprise. It was a scene that was so perfectly written and directed you couldn’t predict what would happen next. When a surprise scene was written well, even the film crew applauded after it was acted out.
Since he was a screenwriter, he was often the one who wrote the surprises, not the one who was surprised. Even though Trey prided himself on always being able to see what would come next, he hadn’t been able to predict the direction of this phone call. Nor could he have foreseen the sudden ache he felt in his heart at the thought of losing a father he’d never even gotten the chance to truly know.
