Her Song

32 - The A-List Team

**Kim**

"Put that thing away. You know it has no effect on me."

Drew Lancaster lowered the legendary #drewseyebrow and frowned at me. "Huh, you're really not into me I guess."

"No Drew, I'm really not into you. Why? Did you expect me to be?" It was a fair question. Bas and Drew had been known to slug it out for the 'Sexiest Man Alive' title. There were plenty of women who would say that, hell yes, they were into Drew Lancaster. I was not one of them and never had been. I may have been the teeniest bit star struck when I first met him but that was it. Drew was too everything. Too charming. Too handsome. Too dazzling. Too much. For me at least. Not that Van wasn't all of those things but where Drew was standing in the middle of the street with the sun shining brightly on him daring you not to see him, Van was treasure for the discerning waiting in the shadows.

Drew turned that dazzling smile of his on me and said, "No I was already pretty sure that your attention has been well and truly captured by our musical friend but it never hurts to take a pulse check." If I had been susceptible to him the way his white teeth split his neatly groomed beard would have had me swooning right off my chair on Bas's neat, hillside terrace. "Plus I just made you smile which was the purpose for my visit today."

"Thanks Drew."

"Don't mention it."

Drew and I both lapsed into silence. I fiddled with the blanket wrapped around me and tucked it a bit more snuggly around my legs. It wasn't exactly cold but the temperature was definitely dropping as night closed in. We should have moved inside but the view out over Los Angeles was truly a spectacular one as lights flickered on all over the city. Plus the flames flickering in the fire pit gave the terrace the kind of cosy ambience that made me want to stay forever. A lucky circumstance I guess because on this visit to LA instead of staying at Troy and Hope's place I was crashing out in Bas's spare room. I'd argued that I could get a hotel room but he and Lucy had insisted and I hadn't really had the strength to argue.

So here I was, back in LA, spending time with movie stars, living, to all outside observers, my best life. But of course I wasn't at all. Drew was right, he and Bas had made it their mission to try and drag a smile out of me at least once a day. I felt miserable, alone and very, very confused.

Lucy had insisted that I sit out at least two weeks of the tour to recover from my miscarriage. She wanted me to rest, sleep in the same bed every night and most emphatically not have to talk about it if I didn't want to. I had the impression that Bas had been given a stern warning about letting me lead the conversation and he in turn had passed that warning on to Drew.

It was strange having two A-listers acting as my personal support team by sharing lurid and what were quite likely highly slanderous stories of life in Hollywood. Not that they needed to worry, there was no way I'd be repeating any of the things they'd told me. But no matter how amusing Bas and Drew's stories were, and trust me they were amusing – scandalously so, they weren't able to draw me out of my deep well of sadness and confusion for long.

Part of it was hormones – I'd been warned but the reality was something else entirely – but the other part, my guilt, was overwhelming. Bloody hell I felt guilty for so many things.

Most days my guilt circle went something like this...

I felt guilty for not recognising that something was seriously wrong earlier, maybe I could have done something.

I felt guilt for feeling sad that the baby was gone, I hadn't wanted a baby in the first place so I had no right to feel sad.

I felt sad and guilty for feeling guilty for feeling sad, I had a right to grieve though didn't I?