Another

by Cole, Fiona

  I leaned back to give her room but hesitated when I thought of Carina. Would she care that I had a woman on my lap? It wasn’t like we were together, and I could really do with blowing off some steam for the day.

  Just as I began to let myself give in to the woman on top of me, my eyes snagged on the clock on my desk. Seven-thirteen.

  Alarm bells clanged in my head, and it hit me like a train—fucking dinner with Carina.

  “Shit. Fuck. Fuck.”

  “Yeah,” Rebecca moaned when I gripped her hips hard. But it quickly shifted to a gasp when I shoved her off and tugged her skirt down.

  “I can’t do this right now—or ever. Sorry, Rebecca, but I have to go.”

  I ushered her out of my office and to the elevator, opting for the stairs so I could sprint down and save time. Before I left the building, I sent a quick message, praying she didn’t send my ass to the curb forever.

  But knowing I deserved it if she did.

  8 Carina

  Ian: On my way.

  On his way? On. His. Way?

  I re-read the message at least seventeen more times, very quickly losing my mind until I was screaming it in my head.

  I sat my phone down on the wood tabletop before I chucked it against the wall in a fit of rage. I’d been sitting at the table for twenty minutes because I was a responsible person and showed up early. And now it was fifteen minutes after he was supposed to be here, and he messaged me with on. His. Way.

  This must have been what it felt like before people went on a massive killing spree because I think I could kill him, and everyone that got in my way of that task.

  I snatched the last chip from the basket and almost crushed it when I shoved it in the salsa, barely paying attention to what I was doing. I probably looked like a rabid animal as I chomped a bite off, my lips snarled, my eyes trying to set fire to the empty seat across from me. Not only was I sick and tired of waiting for some incompetent asshole, but I was also hungry—no, I was hangry. The chips and three glasses of water weren’t cutting it.

  I’d been thinking about this dinner for the last twenty-four hours, and my nerves were frayed. I’d run through all the possible outcomes of what we’d decide, but one thing had been paramount; I’d been hopeful because I wasn’t alone in this anymore.

  Hope was stupid, and Ian was even more stupid for making it enter my mind.

  Stuffing the last bite in my mouth, I made a decision. Fuck Ian. Fuck this fancy-pants restaurant with their delicious, unfulfilling chips.

  Ian could show up to an empty table for all I cared. I was done waiting, and I wasn’t going to sit there for another second. No, I was going to McDonald’s because a Big Mac sounded epic right now. And a large fry. And a coke, god their coke was the best.

  I let the waiter know with the best smile I could muster and a big tip for wasting his time.

  Just as I’d made my way through the door, Ian damn near crashed into me.

  “Oh, thank god. I thought I’d miss you. But I’m here.”

  My nostrils flared, and I ground my jaw, taking him in. His chest heaved over panting breaths like he’d run here. “Really, Ian?”

  He held up his hands like he was holding me off from an attack. “I had a phone call that ran overtime. It fried my brain, and I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t give an inch, instead, taking my time to look him up and down and glare like I found him less than. Anger flooded my veins and nothing else. At least, until I saw the orange-ish smear of lipstick on the collar of his shirt. Then the anger was diminished when another emotion poked through. Hurt. So much hurt. Like the last remaining bit of hope was obliterated and the sharp edges from the explosion pierced my lungs.

  How dare he make me feel like this? I was Carina Russo. I didn’t get stood up by men so they could fuck around with someone else. Not anymore. His eyes widened when I took my time stepping in his personal space. I did my best to make myself as intimidating as possible even when I had to look up to meet his eyes.

  “You wanted this,” I said through my clenched jaw. “You wanted to meet me for a chance to talk this over. And you show up late with some lame excuse about a phone call? Like I can’t see the disgusting lipstick on your shirt? Reeking of someone else’s perfume.”

  If possible, his eyes widened more, and he jerked back and pulled his collar out to find the offending mark. His mouth fell open, and he looked to me with panicked eyes, taking a breath in to issue his defense. But I didn’t want to hear it.

  “This was a mistake.” My shoulders dropped in defeat, and I turned to go. Before I’d even turned the other way, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back, the panic still covering his face.

  “No, it’s not, just let me explain.”

  “I’m eight months pregnant, Ian.” I cut him off, this time with a lot less fire and a lot more exhaustion. I didn’t have time or energy to fight. “I’m tired, and I need to focus on what’s to come. I can’t depend on someone who can’t even make a fucking dinner.”

  He dug both hands into his dark locks, and it almost sparked the urge for me to do the same. I remembered how soft they felt under my grip that day I’d had the pleasure of touching him—when things had been so much easier.

  “Goddammit,” he grunted to no one but himself. He took a breath and held his hands up again, pleading with me to hear him. “Okay, Carina. I fucked up. Honestly, I did have a phone call that ran late, and I did forget the time. An old hookup surprised me at work just as I was ending the call, and you know what, I’d had a shitty enough day that I let myself go for a bit. At least until you popped into my mind, and I immediately remembered dinner.”

  I fought my cringe as he admitted the woman coming to him and him liking it. I wanted to turn away from it, but he wasn’t done. He dropped his hands to his side and took another deep breath, his tone pleading.

  “I’m sorry. I fucked up, but it wasn’t because I was fucking someone else. So, please—please—give me a chance here. Just to eat. Just to talk. Because, Carina, that’s my baby and that…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed before continuing. “That means something to me. You don’t know me, but that means something to me. So, please, just talk to me.”

  Watching the emotions mar his face hit me harder than his words. It wasn’t so much the words, but the way he said them that had me giving in.

  “Fine.” I lifted my chin and stood tall, doing my best to look down my nose at him. “But you better feed me because I’m hangry and I’ll snap your head off if you breathe wrong.”

  He laughed but sobered quickly when I didn’t join him. “Okay. Let’s go back inside.”

  Reaching out, he tried to direct me back inside with a hand to my back, but I stepped away. “No.” He turned to me with wide eyes, probably expecting another argument. “I want a Big Mac now. So that’s where we’re going.”

  “McDonald’s?” He looked at me like I said I wanted to dine in Timbuktu, and I glared harder. “Okay. McD’s it is.”

  We ended up driving separately, and it didn’t take long before I decided not to kill Ian when he set a Big Mac meal in front of me. He stared with a mixture of amusement and awe as he watched me suck down a small coke and sigh in satisfaction.

  “So, any other cravings?”

  “Not right now,” I said around a bite of French fries. I quickly moved on to my Big Mac and giggled a little at how happy I felt when that tangy sauce hit my tongue. We ate in silence--well, him in silence and me moaning around every bite.

  “Thank you.” I sighed and wiped my mouth, slouching back in the hard, plastic chair, rubbing my belly. Ian watched every movement of my hands, choosing not to comment on my complete mood swing now that I’d eaten.

  “How has the pregnancy been?”

  My hands paused, and I looked up, losing myself a little in his gray eyes. They always fascinated me, the color so unique and sharp. I shook my head out of my trance and remembered his question.

  “It’s been okay. Nothing monumental. I had
morning sickness, but nothing too extreme. I’m uncomfortable most of the time, especially now, but nothing is wrong. So, I’m grateful for that.”

  “Good. I’m glad everything is okay. Are there any other cravings I should know about?”

  I laughed when he looked down at the meal that no longer existed with raised eyebrows. “Not really. Nothing consistent. Except fruit. Which makes me think it’s a boy. It’s one of those old-wives-tales that you crave more sour things when it’s a boy. Sweets if it’s a girl.”

  His head cocked to the side. “I’m surprised you don’t want to know the sex. You are always so in control of everything; I figured you’d want to be with this too.”

  “Nope. I want to be surprised when he or she arrives.”

  “You’re not curious? How are you buying things?”

  “I just buy everything in gray and yellow. And I’m not finding out the sex, so don’t bother trying to change my mind,” I defended.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t think of it. I’m excited to be surprised with you.”

  “Good.”

  “When is the due date?”

  “October eighth.”

  Ian blinked a few times and sat back in his seat like the date made it more real and knocked him back. “Wow. So soon.”

  “Yup.” I didn’t know what else to say.

  “Do you need anything? Anything I can buy for the baby—for you?”

  A lump formed in my throat and I forced it back down. Jesus, Carina, he offered to buy you some diapers, not sweep you off your feet.

  “No, I have everything. I’ve had quite a few baby showers, so I’m pretty stocked up. The rest I’ll get as I go. Although I still need to get one of those fancy glider chairs for the room. I’ve read they’re essential.”

  “Okay. Good. If you need anything else, let me know. I’ll get it.”

  I offered a small smile that he returned, and we settled into silence, because the easy stuff was covered, and the bigger topics were looming.

  “What do we do next?” he asked.

  I helpfully offered a shrug.

  “Do you want me in the room? To hold your hand?”

  That lump rose again at the eagerness in his voice. He wanted to be there for the delivery, and his words from earlier in the night finally hit me with some truth. This meant something to him, no matter how he screwed up, it did mean something.

  But I didn’t know what I wanted next. All of a sudden, this pregnancy—that had been racing at me a second ago—seemed so far away. Like a lifetime could happen between us in the next four weeks.

  “We have a month. Can we just…take some time? Get to know each other?”

  “Yeah,” he gave an easy nod and swallowed. “Yeah. Whatever you need.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Will you let me know if anything happens—if you go into labor?”

  “Of course. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “Thank you.”

  Silence settled again, but it lacked the stress and tension. It was lighter like we had cleared some fog and we could see more of the path in front of us, even if everything beyond was still hazy. At least we had somewhere to start.

  “Well, I should get going,” I said, clearing up my trash.

  At my car, I went to open the door when his hand grabbed mine, stopping me in my tracks and bringing my eyes to his. “Carina, I am sorry. I want to be there for you both, and I’ll prove to you that I can be. We’ll figure this out, and I’ll be there to do it.”

  I wanted to give in to his words, but I remembered the twenty minutes I sat in a restaurant eating chips while he made out with some woman, and doubt held me back. I tried to give him some affirmations, but nothing was holding the doubt back from coloring my voice. “Okay, Ian. Night.”

  His eyes slid closed as if he was in pain, but it wasn’t my job to make him feel better. He did this. When he opened them again, he tried for a smile, but it didn’t reach far. “Goodnight, Carina.”

  He stepped closer and placed his hands on my stomach between us, leaning to press a soft kiss to my cheek. All the air sucked from my lungs at his touch, but he pulled back before I could do anything but barely register the heat that spread from his touch.

  Just a single touch and my body burned for him.

  Stupid hormones.

  9 Ian

  Ian: Craving anything??

  Ian: I can have it here waiting for you.

  Carina: I’m good. Thank you.

  Ian: Sure?

  Carina: Yes.

  Ian: What about me? Are you craving me? ;*

  Carina: *rolls eyes*

  Ian: Ha! I don’t hear a no.

  “Look at you, smiling like a fool,” Erik said as I strode into his office.

  I flipped him off, but he wasn’t wrong. The past week Carina and I had been exchanging text messages. Well, I’d been sending them, and she’d been giving brief responses in return. But I was hopeful I’d break her down. I knew she had a wild side—I’d seen glimpses of it—but I knew she’d been hurt. It would take time to bring it out, and I was willing to be a patient man.

  “Hey, Little Brandt,” I greeted Hanna, who was already sitting on the couch. “How’s life down in accounting?”

  Bergamo and Brandt took up two floors of the sky rise, and Hanna was a floor below. Erik and I had claimed the two biggest offices, even though he won the better one. I tried to demand a rematch in Rock, Paper, Scissors every year but he never took the bait.

  “It’s accrual world down there,” she responded with a smirk, standing to meet me halfway across the room. “But we do our best to be audit we can be.”

  I laughed at her jokes, pulling her in for a hug. “Someone is full of puns this morning.”

  “Better than dirty jokes like someone I know.”

  “Whatever, you love it.” Pinning my arm tight around her, I held her close and gently rubbed my knuckles atop her head. She squealed in laughter at my soft noogie.

  She broke free and brushed the dark strands out of her face, her green eyes sparkling with happiness, bringing forth my own smile. I did all I could to make Hanna happy. After what she’d been through, she deserved more.

  Once her hair was clear, she leaned in for another hug. “I do love it,” she said softly.

  A throat cleared behind me and I turned to find Carina standing proud, her chin lifted high, Jared next to her. He was rubbing the back of his head like he was uncomfortable with mine and Hanna’s affection. She was like a sister to me, and he was used to how we interacted over the years, which made me question his reaction until he glanced toward Carina.

  Did Carina see it differently? Was she jealous?

  She wasn’t even looking at me anymore. Instead, making her way over to shake Erik’s hand. She didn’t even care I was in the room—I highly doubted she was jealous of the noogie I just gave Hanna.

  “Where’s Alexandra?” Carina asked.

  “She had a study group she had to be at. So, we can go ahead and get started.”

  The meeting moved quickly. Or it seemed quickly. Probably because I was stuck in a trance watching Carina move around her trifold posters. Her hands moved animatedly as she talked, taking moments to rest on her round stomach. I even caught her looking my way a time or two. She quickly looked away, but not before I gave her a knowing smile.

  Before I knew it, we were all packing up, getting ready to go back to our own work.

  “Hey, Ian. Do you want to grab some lunch?” Hanna asked, pulling my attention away from staring at Carina.

  “No can do, Little Brandt. I’m going to try and talk Carina into having lunch with me. Maybe tomorrow?”

  She looked down before returning with a smile that looked a little forced. “Yeah. Totally.” She hesitated, looking past me to Carina. “So…she’s really pregnant with your baby?”

  My heart thundered like it did every time I thought about it. “Yeah,” I breathed, turning my attention back to Hanna. “Can yo
u believe I’m going to be a dad?”

  “It’s hard to imagine,” she admitted. Her eyes lifted, shining like melted emeralds, so much like Erik’s, except filled with more warmth than I’d ever seen from my best friend. “You’re going to be amazing, Ian. You always are.”

  Hanna was family. She’d known me since we were kids. Having her approval eased a knot in my chest. I pulled her in for a side hug and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you, Hanna.”

  “Any time.”

  Before Carina could bolt, I gave Hanna a wave and ran to my baby-mama. “Hey,” I called when we stepped out of the office. She turned, her nose still raised high. How someone shorter than me could look down at me so efficiently amazed me. It had to be a special talent of hers because no one had done it quite like she did. “You want to get some lunch?”

  “I can’t. I have an OB appointment.”

  “Is everything okay?” Alarm bells rang in my head, and she must have seen the panic because her face softened.

  “Yeah. It’s just a check-up. Listen to the heartbeat and that kind of stuff.”

  “Whew.” I lifted my hand to my forehead. I may have been more relieved when she even cracked a smile at my reaction. “Can I—Would you mind if I came?” She hesitated, and I rushed to plead my case. “I’d love to hear the baby.”

  Another soft smile let me know my answer before she did. “Sure.”

  When I pumped my arm and hissed “Yess,” I even got a laugh from her.

  Her laugh choked off when I leaned down to press a quick peck to her cheek, her eyes widening like saucers. I thought about apologizing for possibly crossing a line, but I wasn’t. So, instead, I smiled down at her and whispered, “Thank you for letting me come.”

  I smiled the whole way to the doctor’s office and even while we waited. When we got called back, I put on my best mature, I’m-the-baby-daddy face. The nurse did all the regular things, checking Carina over. When the boxes were all checked, she asked Carina to strip from the waist down and let us know that the doctor would be in.