“Am I interrupting something?” She lifts her eyebrows, the sparkle in her eyes intensifying.
“No more than everyone else,” I mutter.
I wave her inside and close the door behind her, then watch as she strides over to my desk. My gaze lowers to the large diamond pendant that’s casually resting between her cleavage.
That alone is probably enough to rid me of all my debt.
“So, did you want something?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck. “Because I am kind of busy…”
“Well, I did ask if I was interrupting,” she reminds me, looking a little miffed. I guess I’d be annoyed too if I was used to everyone dropping everything for me.
“It's fine,” I say. “You’re here now. You might as well tell me why.”
“Do I need a reason?” she asks pointedly.
“Well, yeah, kind of.” I cross my arms over my chest, challenging her.
She gives me a smile. “I just thought I'd see how you were doing.”
“Why?” I ask, confused. “I mean, it's not like we’re friends.”
“Harsh. You're the brother of one of my closest friends,” she pouts. “That makes us friends, doesn’t it?”
“I guess…”
I feel like I’ve stumbled into a third dimension, because none of this makes any sense. We haven’t spoken in years and suddenly she’s interested in seeing me after we literally bumped into each other on the street the other day? Maybe she’s into me. I have to admit, I don’t completely hate the idea of her crushing on me. There are worse things … like being broke.
“Holly told me you were having money problems, and I thought maybe we could help each other out.”
“Holly told you that?”
I narrow my eyes. Damn my sister and her need to interfere in my life. What the hell did she tell her? Hey, no matter how bad shit gets for you, remember it’s worse for other people. Here’s my brother as an example.
“I have a proposition for you,” she announces.
“A proposition?” I frown. “What?”
Her eyes level on mine, her plump red lips lifting into a smile. She smooths out the skirt of her dress, taking her sweet time to get to the point. Just as I’m about to ask her to leave, she starts talking.
“What if I told you I had a solution to both our money problems?”
“How, by selling off some of your overpriced jewelry?” I joke.
“No,” she snaps, glowering at me. “And I already tried that,” she mutters, her cheeks flushing red.
“You couldn’t get a buyer?” I nod knowingly. “I’m not surprised. I never understood how chicks could pay so much for an overpriced piece of sh—”
“Look, if you’re not interested in hearing what I have to say, then I’ll go. I have better things I could be doing than wasting my time with you.” She gets to her feet, but I put my hands up apologetically. “I’m sorry. Sit back down and tell me your plan. I’m listening. I'm just in a bit of a mood—”
“Fine,” she mutters. “Okay, so I went to visit my grandmother. She offered me her fortune ... with some conditions.”
“Conditions?” I repeat, raising my eyebrows.
She nods, pressing her lips together, but she won’t meet my eyes. I groan inwardly.
This should be good.
“She wants a grandchild.”
“A grandchild?” I repeat, letting out a low laugh. I was not expecting that. “Can’t she just get a puppy?”
Valentina stares at me expectantly, her expression nervous.
And then it dawns on me.
“Hold up, are you suggesting what I think you are? You want me to have a kid with you? That’s your solution?”
“I thought you might be a little more open-minded considering this could fix both our problems,” she retorts.
I snort loudly. She can't seriously be thinking this is a viable option, can she?
“Thanks for the offer, but I think I'll pass. Knock yourself out, though. I'm sure you’ll be a great Mom.”
She narrows her eyes, like I’ve offended her. Did she actually expect me to jump at the idea?
“Maybe you should take some time to think about it—”
“What's there to think about?” Honestly, I’m amused she hasn’t taken the hint that I’m not really into the idea of being tied down for the next eighteen or so years. “The whole idea is ridiculous. Even if I could get past the fact that I'm not even sure I want kids, how could this possibly be a good environment to bring a child into? We’re not a couple … hell, we’re not even friends, Valentina. The only reason you’re having the thing is to fund the superficial lifestyle you’ve grown accustomed to. How is that healthy?”
“How dare you judge me? You know nothing about my life or how I feel,” she seethes, rage burning deep in her eyes. “You know what? Forget I even asked.”
She stalks toward the door, slamming it shut behind her.
I sigh and walk over to my desk, slumping down in front of my laptop. The overdue figures stare back at me accusingly, like they’re taunting me for passing up an opportunity to get ahead. Maybe I was too quick to dismiss her. The more I think about it, the less outrageous it seems. I can’t deny I’m getting desperate.
I might have just fucked up my only way out of this.
***
Later that evening, I sit outside Valentina’s apartment, trying to summons the courage to walk over there and talk to her. I’ve been going back and forth on this all day. I don’t know what the right thing to do here is. All I know is I’m going to fuck over a lot of people if I don’t do something quickly. Climbing out of my truck, I jog across the road and enter the foyer. The security guard looks at me suspiciously and then calls me over.
“Can I help you?” he asks.
“Uh, yes. I’m here for Valentina. She’s in the penthouse,” I say. “She’s expecting me. Hudson.”
He punches some numbers into the phone and then waits, his eyes not leaving me.
“Ms. Rossi, I have someone here who claims you’re expecting him. A Hudson someone or other?” His eyes meet mine, but he gives nothing away. “Okay. Yes. Certainly.”
I wait as he carefully places the phone in its cradle, before he finally acknowledges me.
“You may go up.”
I’m still doubting myself as I ride the elevator up to the top level.
If I agree to this, then I have to go through with it. I can’t go back on my word. At least, not without looking like a tool. Am I ready for this? Bringing a kid into the world is a big deal. What happens when he’s older and he realizes that he was only conceived so that we could get our hands on Valentina’s grandmother’s fortune? I push that out of my mind. It’s not going to be an issue. I'm sure I'll love any child we have unconditionally.
Valentina answers almost immediately when I knock on her door and invites me inside. I look around, impressed at how nice her place is. It’s not just the apartment either. It’s everything from the artwork to the furnishings. Even the layout was done with thought and consideration.
“Are you here for round two?” she asks, an edge to her voice.
“No, I’m here to apologize actually.”
That gets a reaction. But as quickly as she lets her guard down, it goes right back up.
“Why are you really here?” she asks, not buying it.
“Does your offer still stand?” I ask.
She frowns at me, like she’s trying to work out if I’m serious.
“Why the change of heart?”
“Because I don’t have any other options,” I say honestly. “It’s this, or I’m over.”
She nods, the tiniest smile forming on her lips.
“Fine. So what’s the deal?” I ask, still trying to get my head around it all. “We have a kid and get married?”
She nods. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract, but yes. We get married and have a child. The money becomes ours when my grandmother passes.”
She winces a
t that. I don’t blame her. It’s pretty morbid that we’re sitting around, waiting for the old lady to die.
“How does this help me now, though?” I ask. “With respect, your grandmother might still be alive in ten years.”
“I’d tell her the only way I’m agreeing is if we can be assured of an allowance. She can’t expect us to raise a child penniless, so I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Okay then.” I murmur, my eyes meeting hers. “I guess we’re having a baby.”
“I guess we are,” she agrees, her expression a mixture of anticipation and fear.
What the hell am I getting myself into?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Valentina
“A specialist?” Hudson asks, a bemused look on his face. “Why?”
“Because I think it’s a good idea,” I reply.
I unlock my door and walk inside, tossing my purse and keys on the kitchen counter. Hudson follows me in, closing the door behind him.
It’s the following day, and after a long, drawn out conversation with my grandmother where I’d told her I’d decided to accept her offer, I’d arrived back home to find Hudson waiting for me outside my building. I’d been planning on calling him anyway, so I invited him up. I hadn’t counted on us seeing a specialist being such a big deal.
“Drink?” I offer.
He nods, so I grab two bottles of water from the fridge and throw one at him.
“Do you need someone to explain to you how this works?” He unscrews the cap and takes a sip. “Because I can draw you a diagram if you like. Or I do a pretty good interpretive dance explaining the logistics of me putting my—”
“You really think it’s as easy as … well, that?” I cut in, my cheeks red.
“It was for the other five illegitimate kids I’ve fathered,” he says with a shrug.
“Are you kidding?” I demand. I glare at him until his loud chuckles echo through my apartment.
“Jesus, relax, Valentina, of course I am. I promise you this will be my first child. Well, to the best of my knowledge.”
I glower at him. “If you think this is such a—"
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop with the jokes. I just think you’re worrying over nothing.”
“News flash, Hudson.” I focus on his eyes to avoid his sexy smirk. Too bad for me they’re just as intoxicating. “I’d be shocked if it did happen that quickly. Millions of couples get fertility treatment to assist them in getting pregnant.”
“Sure, but the difference is most of them give it a good ol’ try first,” he points out, the humor disappearing from his expression. “Look, I know you’re worried, and given the circumstances, you don’t want to waste time, but all I’m saying is let’s give it a few weeks and see how we do. If you work yourself up over this, then it’s going to make it harder anyway. Besides, no specialist is going to run through a heap of tests when we haven’t even been trying.”
“They will if I pay them enough,” I mutter.
He gives me a lopsided grin. “Pay them with what money exactly? You’re broke. Remember? We both are. Trust me on this one. If it makes you feel better, we can practice all day and all night.”
“What will make me feel better is if you start taking this seriously,” I reply, gritting my teeth.
“I’ll take the important bits seriously, I promise.” He winks at me, and I groan.
“Trust me, having sex with you is just a means to an end,” I assure him.
“I bet you say that to all the men,” he teases.
I rub my temples, a migraine threatening to invade my head. I need to calm down before I burst a blood vessel, but something tells me there will be no relaxing until Hudson leaves. He’s barely been here five minutes, and I’m already over it. How am I going to last out a whole pregnancy with him around, let alone a marriage?
“You look stressed,” he comments.
I scowl at him. “If I’m stressed, it’s because you’re making me stressed.”
“Maybe you need to relax,” he suggests, ducking for cover as I toss a magazine at him. “Wow, you really are in a bit of a mood. Are you sure you’re not ovulating?”
“Hudson,” I howl, even though he might be onto something. “Look, I get it. You think I’m overreacting. But what if I’m not?” I ask. “Going to see someone will make me feel better. That alone should make it worthwhile doing,” I say. “But maybe I should go alone.”
Why does he have to be so infuriating?
The truth is, I’m nervous. It’s not just about getting pregnant, it’s everything else that goes along with it. My mother had a lot of problems falling pregnant with me. She even miscarried two pregnancies before I came along. I’m not sure I’d cope with putting myself through all of this, only to lose the pregnancy. At least talking things through with a specialist would make me feel that we’re on the right track. I’d rather be sure than go through months of trying only to get nowhere.
“No,” he says with a firm shake of his head. “If you’re going, then so am I. We’re in this together, right?”
Are we? I’m beginning to wonder.
“Okay, fine,” I say instead.
“Good. So, when’s this appointment?”
I give him a sheepish grin. “It’s this afternoon. At three.”
“Three today?” he repeats, letting out a whistle. “Wow, you really don’t waste time. When were you going to tell me?”
To be honest, I wasn’t sure I was going to tell him at all but then he was waiting outside my apartment. I figured appointments were the kind of thing I’d be doing on my own.
Isn’t that how it works with couples in real life?
“Okay then, I guess we better go,” he murmurs.
I follow him outside and over to his truck, waiting as he opens the door for me. I get in and buckle my belt, the scent of his aftershave engulfing me as he climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. I breathe in, sighing as a shiver runs down my back. I look out my window just to give myself something else to focus on that’s not Hudson.
It’s just that aftershave I’m attracted to. Not him.
I keep telling myself that, because I’m smart enough to know that developing feelings for Hudson would be a bad idea. Any sign of feelings, I need to push them as far under the surface as I can. The problem is, how long can I do that for? If we do this, our relationship is never going to be over. Having a child is going to entwine us in each other’s lives forever.
“Are you okay?”
I snap my head around and smile at him.
“What? Of course. Why?” I speak a little too quickly.
“Because I’ve been talking to you for the last few minutes and you haven't heard a word I said. You do that a lot, actually,” he points out.
“I did too hear you,” I argue, even though he’s right. I have no idea what he said.
For some reason when it comes to Hudson, I feel the innate need to argue, no matter if I’m right or wrong. It’s not all him, though. It’s everything. My mind is constantly ticking over, because there’s so much for me to worry about. I’ve had so much on my mind between this thing with my father and my life being thrown into ruin.
“Okay, so what was I saying then?” he challenges.
I rack my brain and come up blank.
“Fine,” I concede. “Maybe I wasn't listening, but that's not because I was distracted. I just find you very boring.”
“Funny, I’d say the opposite about you. The entertainment is endless,” he mocks.
I flick my hair over my shoulder, deciding to take that as a compliment.
“So, what is it you were trying to tell me?”
I do my best to sound disinterested, even though I’m curious now.
“Right. I was asking where the appointment is.”
“Oh. I guess that would be helpful information,” I admit.
“Or we could drive in circles all day, ya know, since I bore you and all.”
&
nbsp; I roll my eyes, ignoring his jab, and direct him to the clinic, which is only a few blocks away. He manages to find a parking space, almost right out the front.
“How’s that for luck?” He winks, his smile flirtatious and stretching from ear to ear.
I roll my eyes at how proud he is over it, then I realize, I’m likely to strain an eye with as often as they roll around Hudson.
“Yeah, well, let's just hope you haven't used up all our luck on this.”
I get out and shut the door with a slam, then we walk inside and over to the reception desk. My grandmother had given me the number of the specialist whose mother she is good friends with and when I called, they told me there was a cancellation. I’m sure it wasn’t a coincidence that they found me an appointment at the mention of my grandmother’s name.
“Hello, I'm Valentina Rossi. I have a three pm appointment with Doctor Meadows.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Valentina. I'm Christy, one of the nurses here. I’ll need for you to complete the patient registration packet.” She hands me a clipboard full of papers and a pen then places a sample cup in front of Hudson. “And you must be dad?”
“Hudson,” he confirms, ignoring the dad comment.
“If you'll follow me, you can get the sample while Miss Rossi gets registered.”
“You need a urine sample?” He looks at the cup then back at the nurse, confused.
Christy gives me a pity-filled smile, no doubt wondering what I’m doing with a guy like him. Funny, I’m starting to wonder the same thing.
“Um, no. Not urine.”
The confusion clears, and Hudson’s face contorts as it clicks what she’s talking about. He looks around, that all too familiar smirk forming on his mouth. I stifle a groan, because I’m dreading whatever smart ass comment is about to pour out from between those lips.
“You want me to do it here?” He rubs his softly stubbled jaw, giving the nurse a sly grin. “Okay, but I’ll need a little material to warm me up.”
My eyes widen in horror as he reaches for his belt buckle.
He wouldn’t, would he?
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