She rolled her eyes at the memory, wishing she’d exercised caution when she had the chance, insisting that he use a condom even if it wouldn’t have felt as good. In all honesty, they were both to blame; him for being impatient and her for going along with it, allowing herself to be swept up at the moment, the pill lying there forgotten on her bedside table.
A warning sign in big bold neon colors.
The stick was on top of the toilet seat, leaning towards her, a reminder she couldn’t delay or snooze. Regardless of how she chose to proceed, and it was her choice to make and hers alone, Phoenix had the right to know since it was his kid, too.
She wondered if he’d remember her, another faceless waitress he banged until they both crumpled into a heap, exhausted and spent. Granted, she didn’t regret the night considering it was the best sex of her life, but she did wish she could go back, do it over differently.
A part of her hadn’t even been surprised when he’d quickly dressed and left, with no sign of him having been there in the first place except for a trace of his cologne, and the ache between her legs.
Yes, she’d been pleasantly sore, but he hadn’t tried to reach out to her.
She was a practical woman and knew that it was better not to make too much of it, to read into the situation when there wasn’t anything further to say. In fact, she’d considered getting rid of his number, just to ensure that she didn’t do anything stupid.
Thankfully, she hadn’t because she needed to scroll through her contacts now and pull it up, braving whatever kind of reaction he was going to throw at her. Given how little she actually knew him, she had to be prepared for anything ranging from anger to denial and everything in between.
This wasn’t exactly something she welcomed either, but facts were facts, and she had to deal with it, one way or another. However, she was perfectly prepared to deal with it on her own should Phoenix decide he wanted no part in any of it.
Darby wouldn’t exactly blame him for it.
They’d both been looking for a fun night with no strings attached, and it had been fine with her, but now the stakes were different. Her fingers trembled as she attempted to dial him, hearing it ring for the longest time before it disconnected.
Her stomach twisted in on itself, tying itself into knots of dread.
His silence didn’t change anything, not in the slightest, but she wanted to believe it was an oversight on his part and not an active attempt at dismissing her offhand, the thought stung, making tears spring to the front of her eyes.
“Darby, are you almost done in there?”
Hastily, she pushed herself off the floor and reached for the paper, running it over her face in the hopes that it would improve her appearance. She flushed the toilet twice to be safe and swung the door open, coming face to face with her colleague Clara, a tall blonde who was looking at her with concern.
“Sorry I took so long,” Darby offered. “That stomach bug really is something else.”
Still in denial, she stuck to her version of events, that she’d contracted some kind of weird stomach flu, and she just needed to wait out, hoping it left her system as quickly as possible.
If only the truth were that simple, but she didn’t want people at work finding out, couldn’t stand the thought of being on the receiving end of their long drawn out pity, awkward and fumbling.
Even her boss would be understanding she knew, but she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, not yet at least. First, she needed an appointment with a gynecologist, a blood test to confirm the pregnancy, and a DNA test to confirm the parentage.
There was no way it wasn’t Phoenix considering she hadn’t been with anyone else in the past few weeks, but she wanted to be sure, and a man of his background would want that certainty as well. If he ever called her back, that is.
Clara inched past her and stepped into the stall, giving her shoulders a slight squeeze in the process. “I hope it passes soon. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
Darby stared at herself in the mirror, the dark circles under her eyes, and the sallow tint to her cheeks, and the thin sheen of sweat glistening atop her forehead. She switched on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, pushing all negative thoughts to the back of her mind.
“Yeah, I’m going to call and try to make an appointment,” Darby replied, her voice sounding strained and hollow even to her own ears, laced with indecision and fear.
Over the next four weeks, she continued to call Phoenix, refusing to take no for an answer. He had the right to know about his baby. Afterward, what he chose to do was entirely up to him, but she’d known the minute she got the blood tests back that she wanted to keep the baby.
The certainty of it had caught her by surprise, washing over her, but she knew, deep down, that she wanted to. She stood near the window in her apartment, listening to the sound of Phoenix’s sharp intake of breath when she heard a slight clatter.
Presumably his phone.
She drew the phone away from her ear and stared at it then placed it back. “Hello? Are you there?”
Three
Phoenix
Yes, he was still fucking there.
Though he really wished he wasn’t. He wanted a hole to open up and swallow him whole, or for some kind of magic remote that would turn back the clock, enabling him to take back the words.
He heard her voice, clear and sharp, ringing through the night air.
His phone had miraculously survived the drop, and he stared at it, kicking it onto its back with the tip of his shoe, wishing he had the courage to break it and just start over. Surely, if he did he could pretend he was a different person, one who hadn’t made a mistake.
The urge was strong, and his foot hovered near the device, perilously close, but his conscience stepped in, yelling at him to do the right thing. The least he could do was listen to Darby.
After all, it took two to create a life, and he was just as responsible for this as she was, and though he searched his fog-addled brain for the memory, he came up short. All he could think of was the way she felt beneath him, the sound of her panting reverberating even now.
But he couldn’t, for the life of him, remember whether or not he used protection, though he could’ve sworn he didn’t. In fact, he wanted to deny it vehemently, shovel the responsibility onto someone else, but he couldn’t.
If there was a slim chance that she was right, then he just couldn’t.
Even if this screwed up his entire plan for himself, a future that he mapped out meticulously, and, surprisingly, it didn’t include shacking up with a waitress of all people.
No, she was never supposed to get pregnant.
It was just supposed to be one night of unburdened fun with a stranger who knew nothing about him and his life. Those precious few stolen hours were supposed to be about pleasure; the basest kind.
For a while there, he’d gotten away scot-free, but now it had come back to haunt him, derailing his entire life plan. This was not how it was supposed to go. Sure, he wasn’t the marriage type, but he always assumed he would, in time, meet someone who was intriguing enough to marry, a trophy wife.
Someone from his world who understood the demands of his daily life, and the kind of pressure he would always be under as a co-CEO of Denton Enterprises. In his mind, he was going to end up with a tall blonde, a woman who could trace back her lineage, someone who went to private schools and had an expensive education she didn’t want.
It sounded elitist of him, he knew, but it was the only thing he counted on.
Besides, Darby would never be able to fit in here, and he certainly couldn’t have a family with her, not the way he wanted to. His plan was rapidly slipping away from him, floating out of reach.
The window of opportunity closing.
The faceless woman in his mind was dissipating along with the two kids they would have together, boys preferably. In her place was Darby, in a waitress uniform, taking orders with one hand and balancing a baby on the hip with the other
.
Needless to say, he didn’t like that image, not in the slightest.
A waitress at a random bar?
Seriously?
Someone up there had a fucked-up sense of humor and was enjoying messing with his life; the entire plan he had set in motion had to be put to a halt, leaving skid marks on the floor.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Oh, yeah, he let his dick make the decision, not his head, and now he had to own up to it. He glanced down at his pants, a dark scowl on his face then bent over and picked up the phone, gingerly pressing it so his ear, a poison of sorts.
“Yes, I’m here,” Phoenix said, his voice surprisingly steady.
“I know this isn’t exactly what you want to hear. It was a surprise to me, too, but I thought you should know,” Darby replied, brusque and businesslike.
“Are you calling because you want money?” Phoenix asked, suspiciously.
“Screw you, jackass. Not everything is about money, you know. I don’t want anything from you. I just thought you should know.”
“Know what? That I’m going to have a kid?” Phoenix hissed, raking his fingers through his hair. He stepped off to the side, away from the main crowd, determined that no one would hear this conversation.
He didn’t need a scandal, and the last thing he wanted was anyone getting wind of this, or it would be all over the papers in the morning.
“Yes,” Darby answered, tersely. “Since you are the father.”
“Am I?” Phoenix asked. “I think we used protection that night, so how do I know that you aren’t lying to trick and me or something?”
Shit.
He sounded like a complete and total asshole, but he couldn’t take it back now. His foot was in his mouth, and the panic was settling in, taking complete control of his brain, and pushing logic to the backseat.
“You know, I was really hoping you wouldn’t turn out to be one of those men who demanded proof of parentage. So, not that my sex life is any of your business, but I haven’t slept with anyone else. No, I’m not going to get rid of the baby, and yes I am planning on keeping it. I have a DNA test too if you’re interested,” Darby remarked, ice seeping into her tone.
Not that he could blame her.
She had every right to be pissed off at him.
“If you give me your email, I’ll send it to you,” Darby added. “That should be enough for you.”
His mind raced, struggling to come up with an appropriate response. Once again, his headache flared up, nails being hammered in the back of his skull, and he pressed one finger to his temples, trying to ward it off.
“Yes, yes, do that,” Phoenix agreed, rattling off his email in the next breath. He heard a clicking sound then pen scratching against paper indicating that Darby now had his email in her position, getting the results was only a matter of time.
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he believed her, but she didn’t have any reason to lie.
It wasn’t as if she knew who he was and wanted a boatload of money or anything. As far as he knew, she had no clue that he was one of the richest men in the country, and the leader of one of the most innovative companies in the world.
His resume was impressive, and he’d heard too many stories about women who wanted to sink their claws into men like him, playing the part perfectly until they got what they wanted.
Gold diggers.
Darby didn’t seem like one of those people, but just to be safe, he needed to do a background check, to make sure she wasn’t some kind of con artist in disguise. Granted, he knew this entire ordeal was bringing out the worst in him, making him paranoid beyond belief, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
If she was who she said she was then she had nothing to worry about.
If she wasn’t, then, it was better for him to expose her now before it was too late.
“I’ll send the results shortly,” Darby informed him, matter-of-factly. “Is there anything else you require?”
He could hear the sarcasm and disdain dripping from her tone, drenched in it actually, and it made him narrow his eyes, his back ramrod straight, a warrior heading into combat.
“No, my assistant will be in touch with you,” Phoenix said, making a mental note to call Meri and have her deal with this. She was a whiz with problems, and he expected this would be no different, although a small voice in the back of his mind warned him not to drag his work assistant into the middle of a personal issue.
But, what else was he supposed to do?
He couldn't deal with it himself nor should he be expected to.
“Your assistant?” Darby repeated, a hint of incredulity seeping into her tone.
“Yes, my assistant. Her name is Meri,” Phoenix commented, casually. “You’ll like her.”
Silence.
He pulled the phone away from his ear, checked that the call was still connected then put it back, balancing it between his ear and his shoulder. “Great, so we’re in complete agreement then. Good luck with everything.”
With that, he hung up, and his eyes darted all over the lawn, searching for his bottle of beer. He spotted it a few feet away, disappointingly empty, and he frowned, shoving his hands deep into his suit pockets.
What now?
The original plan was to find someone to go home with tonight. He wasn’t picky, but he suddenly felt averse to the prospect, preferring the idea of drinking alone in the relative silence of his penthouse.
Spotting his brother speaking to some guests, he waved at him and beckoned him closer, dreading what he had to do next. “Congratulations, bro.”
Moxley fanned the air in front of his face. “Man, you smell like a minibar.”
Phoenix shrugged. “I asked the waiters to get me a beer.”
Moxley chuckled. “I figured you would.”
“Listen, man. I have to get going. Long day, you know,” Phoenix said, apologetically. He did feel a stab of guilt, niggling in the back of his mind, but it wasn’t enough to make him stay, and he needed to sort through the mess in his head.
Logically, it made sense for him to leave now while he was still able to string a sentence together and before he did anything stupid.
Anything else that is.
Moxley clapped Phoenix on the shoulder. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks for all your help. I’ll see you after the honeymoon, okay?”
Phoenix smiled weakly. “Yes, enjoy Aruba.”
Moxley nodded, and Phoenix didn’t wait for him to say anything else. Instead, he spun on his heel, snatched a bottle of wine on his way out and stumbled onto the sidewalk, searching the empty streets for any sign of his car.
Finally, his driver pulled up a few minutes later, looking harried with his tie askew. He opened the door for Phoenix who slid in and rested his head against the cool window, thankful that Moxley had the good sense to keep an eye on him.
Then again, he always did.
Regardless of the differences between them, or whatever issues they had, he knew that they had each other’s backs, through thick and thin. Brothers by blood and by choice. It was the kind of bond that no one could break, and he was immensely grateful for it, solid ground beneath his expanding world.
What would Moxley think if he told him?
A large part of him wanted to, to make the driver turn back around, so he could run inside, find his brother and have a heart to heart, but he knew that was mostly the booze talking.
After all, Moxley needed to leave for his honeymoon, not sit down and listen to how his brother fucked up.
Father.
No, he couldn’t picture himself as one.
All too soon, the car ride was over, and the driver pulled up outside the building, leading Phoenix all the way to the elevator, in spite of his vehement protests. The elevator dinged, and he stumbled into his apartment, kicking off his shoes in the process.
The bottle of wine came up to his lips, and he chugged, smacking his lips together loudly. He managed to make it to the couch then
collapsed, the furniture creaking under the sudden weight.
His phone pinged, and he took it out, blinking rapidly and trying to see through blurry vision. He swallowed heavily when he read the email.
Congratulations, daddy, he thought dryly. Drink up.
Four
Darby
This had to be a joke.
She couldn’t claim to understand the male sense of humor, so this had to be one of those moments where the humor went right over her head, and she was the only one who wasn’t laughing.
Yet.
Sooner or later, she’d get it, she had to, right?
Otherwise, this was all real, and she had to face the fact that the man whose baby she was carrying was a complete and total douchebag.
No, that wasn’t even a strong enough word. He was an entitled, self-centered and presumptuous asshole. That sounded like a more apt description in light of his reaction to the news.
Granted, she wasn’t expecting a string quartet accompanied with balloons and confetti, nor a declaration of his undying love, but she’d held out for something, a small kernel of feeling, since this was his baby too.
All she got was indifference.
Yes, she was quite certain she preferred nothing.
In fact, it would’ve been much better for her if she’d stopped calling him, taken the hint, and just let her attempts to reach out fizzle. At the end of the day, it was clear that Phoenix wanted nothing to do with their baby, and she couldn’t force him to, nor did she have any desire to do so.
The only thing she wanted was to be truthful, in case there was some small part of him that expressed interest, now or in the future. She wanted to leave that door open for their child because she didn’t know what the future held, or if either of them would ever want the chance to get to know each other.
In any case, it wasn’t her decision to make, so she’d decided to make it based on her gut instinct, what she knew deep down in her heart to be right: the truth. Phoenix was going to be a dad, whether or not he acknowledged it, and whether or not he wanted to get involved.
Baby: A Billionaire Boys novel Page 2