The Baby Contract

by Amy Brent

  We both sat there and ate our food in relative silence. It was the calm before the storm. Before Angie would descend on me and plaster me with makeup. I was interviewing some of the men from the Dallas fire department after the incredible save they’d made earlier this week. There had been a massive apartment complex that caught on fire because the electrical wiring wasn’t up to date, and I was using them and their stories to bring awareness to the fact that business moguls in the area needed to put the appropriate funds into their buildings in order to ensure they were brought up to code.

  Thankfully, no one died in this fire, but that wasn’t always going to be guaranteed should there be another one. I felt the topic affected our area greatly, especially since the whole of downtown Dallas is nothing but studio apartments and apartment complexes.

  The owners needed to invest in them. Otherwise, they’d lose their properties altogether.

  And people would lose their lives.

  Suddenly, my phone started to vibrate again. I silenced it without even looking down, knowing damn good and well who was calling.

  “Everything all right?” Emma asked.

  “Yeah. If they call again, I’ll have to take it, but I’m hoping they’ll get the gist and leave a voice message I can check after the show today.”

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  “My doctor’s office,” I said, lying.

  “Sarah, are you okay?”

  “I had that pain in my lower back checked out,” I said. “They told me they’d call if there was anything significant.”

  “Then you need to answer that call,” she said.

  And as if Mason could fucking hear us around the corner, he called again.

  “Answer the fucking phone, Sarah. I know you hate doctors, but this is serious.”

  “Fine. All right. I’ll be right back.”

  I felt like shit for lying to my best friend. Pure, utter shit. But what the hell was I going to tell her? I could only brush her off for so long before she’d start getting suspicious. I had to throw her something, and she’d been bugging me about getting my back checked out for months. Honestly, I hadn’t had a problem with it the past few days.

  And something in my gut told me to attribute it to the stress release Mason had been.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Don’t hang up. Look, I’m on my way to your studio to talk with you. Just please, would you fucking let me in when I get there?”

  “No. No. Mason, you have shit timing, but right now is, like, pathetically shit timing,” I said.

  “I know you’ve got a show to do, but we really need to talk. Please, Sarah.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Then come over to my place tonight. I can pick you up and we can—”

  “I said no, Mason. Get that through your head.”

  I hung up the phone on him and turned it off before he had a chance to call me back. I took a deep breath and walked back into the room where Emma was anxiously waiting for me to get back.

  “Well, what did the doctor say?” she asked.

  “You’d think with how they called me, it would’ve been life-threatening,” I said. “Apparently, I’ve just got some deeply set knots that my regular massages won’t work to get out. They’re suggesting acupuncture or some shit.”

  “They blew up your phone for that?” Emma asked.

  “Apparently.”

  “Sounds like they need to take one of your muscle relaxers,” she said.

  “No joke,” I said as I sat down beside her.

  The truth was, I hadn’t taken one since my first date with Mason. Not a single one of them. My stress levels had been regulated, and my back wasn’t as tense. Physically, I felt better than I had in a very long time. But Mason was no longer an option, and as I sat next to Emma while we finished up our lunches, I studied her. I could see the familial resemblance, the same green eyes, the same stoic expression, the same long necks. Her skin was paler and her hair was much lighter than his, but when she looked over at me and smiled, my breath caught in my throat.

  She had his smile, and something inside of me ached a little at that revelation.

  “You okay?” Emma asked.

  “Yeah. Fuck, these firemen I’m interviewing are hot,” I said.

  “I don’t know how you do it some days. Really,” she said.

  “Do you ever watch my show?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, have you ever seen it?”

  Surely, if she watched the show, she had seen Mason on it. How could she watch my show, see that I’d interviewed him, and not told me that was her half-brother? Was it possible they’d never met? Even if they hadn’t, how could she at least not know that was him?

  “I mean, not really. Don’t get me wrong, I support you. I always have, but I’m not much into the whole talk show thing.”

  “What about social media? Anything on there?” I asked.

  “Where is this coming from?” she asked, giggling.

  “Just wondering, that’s all.”

  It was her business if she didn’t want to tell me who her brother was. Just like it was my business to not tell her who I had been fucking around with. And that was how I was justifying it. If she got angry at me because I had been screwing around with her brother, I could tell her I had no idea it was her brother because it wasn’t like she talked about him anyway.

  There. That’s what I would do.

  But something in the back of my mind kept gnawing at me, and I knew the moment I turned my phone on, the voices would dissipate.

  Because after I got done interviewing the firemen, I turned my phone back on, and I was flooded with voice messages.

  Chapter 14

  Mason

  She cut her phone off. I kept going straight to voicemail, so I did the only thing I could. I left her messages in the hopes she would call back. I didn’t know what was drawing me to her or why in the world I couldn’t put this all aside. So, it was a failed encounter. Every man had that. But technically, it wasn’t. We’d enjoyed two very wonderful, fruitful, exotic nights with one another. The last thing all men would call that was a failed encounter.

  Then why the hell was I still pursuing her?

  The truth was, I didn’t know. I only knew that I hadn’t left things right between us. Sure, I ghosted women all the time, kind of like she was doing me right now. But we at least left things on a decent note. Some breakfast in the morning. Maybe a kiss goodbye. A fake promise to call in the morning. There were always smiles. Good vibes when I left the women I spoiled for a night.

  I’d seen her three times already, and neither one of those times had been left under decent circumstances.

  “Tony? You free tonight?”

  “Of course I am,” he said. “What were you thinking?”

  “Some drinks. I need someone to talk to,” I said.

  “You botch another interview or something?” he asked.

  “No, you asshat. Just meet me at that bar across the street from the hotel.”

  I walked out of the hotel and crossed the street. I sat down and ordered a scotch on the rocks before picking Tony out a beer. He was becoming more and more like the stereotype I found down here the longer we stayed, but I didn’t care. As long as he gave me the advice I was looking for so I could stop fucking this up and get my groove back, I didn’t care what he was guzzling.

  “All right. What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Here’s your beer, weirdo. And it’s about Sarah.”

  “Who’s Sarah?”

  “This girl I’ve been seeing,” I said.

  “Holy hell, you still on her?” he asked. “What gives?”

  “I don’t know, that’s the issue. There’s something about her. Her confidence. Her swagger. Her emotions. The way she isn’t afraid to say it like it is in her head. She’s not like the other women I’ve had on my arm.”

  “I could’ve told you that shit. Sarah Williams is a fu
cking queen,” he said.

  “Our first date went perfectly. Fun time, as always. But she fucking got up and left without saying a word.”

  “Holy shit. She walked out on you?” he asked.

  “Yeah. So, the second date I let her tell me what she wanted. Every single idea she laid out, I executed. Then, I walked out on her.”

  “You did not. That’s some petty shit. I love it,” he said.

  “But I woke up, and I couldn’t get her off my mind. I could smell her fucking everywhere.”

  “Did you change your sheets?” he asked, grinning.

  “No, asshat. We went to her place the second time.”

  “And you let her take the reins like that? This shit ain’t like you at all.”

  “Ain’t? Are you serious?” I asked. “And I know. I know it’s not like me. I took a shower and steamed myself. Couldn’t get rid of her. Or my thoughts about her. I walked around with a fucking hard-on for three hours like a teenage boy before I broke down and called her.”

  “Who are you and what the hell have you done with Mason Baker?” he asked.

  “We had lunch, we agreed to start over, and I actually got to know a lot about her. And guess what the fuck happened?”

  “What?”

  “She fucking left!”

  Tony threw his head back and laughed, and after the alcohol hit my system, I could see the hilarity in it, too. But I was honestly stumped. If these were the kind of women I was going to encounter anywhere else other than in L.A., then I was going to need to step up my game in a serious way. I was going to travel the world, and if the women were half as strong-willed as Sarah Williams, I’d have to know how to handle them.

  You know, after I could shake Sarah from my mind first.

  “Dude, just let her go. Everyone’s got a failed woman, and now you have yours. You don’t need that shit anyway. You’re still rehabilitating your image, remember? I don’t get why you’re chasing this girl down. So, she’s got a good head on her shoulders? Welcome to the women men actually marry.”

  “It’s fucking nuts, Tony. I don’t know what to do,” I said.

  “Just stop,” he said. “That’s all you gotta do. You what? Fucked her twice, you said? That’s hardly a fail. All of this is unlike you. Once we get out of Dallas and get back home, you’ll have another chick on your arm, and Sarah Williams will be a thing of the past.”

  “I’m not sure,” I said.

  “Look. There are plenty of women who want you. Women who throw themselves at your feet. Go pick one of them. Get on top of someone else, and fuck Sarah out of your system. Don’t fuck Sarah. Not what I’m saying. Get another woman’s pussy on your cock, and you’ll forget all about her.”

  “But there’s something about her, Tony. I want to get to know her. I want to know why she’s drawing me in so badly,” I said.

  “Because you’re letting her, dude. Your ego got burned when she walked out on you, so you turned it around on her. Turnabout is fair play, and you got yours. Your mistake was calling her. You recognize it. Get over it. Learn from your mistake,” he said.

  “I just don’t get it,” I said.

  “Dude. Who the fuck cares? Quit bellyaching like a bitch and get over it,” he said.

  “Whatever.”

  “Excuse me?”

  The sweetest little country drawl came cascading down my back. At any other point in time, my cock would’ve trembled in anticipation. My skin would’ve been crawling to have her lips painting my neck in my hotel bed later tonight, but all I did was turn around and smile.

  “Depends on who’s asking,” I said, grinning.

  “Hi,” she said sweetly. “I’m Andrea.”

  “Andrea, what a lovely name. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Listen, I can most certainly understand the absolute courage it took to come over here and introduce yourself to someone like myself. Allow me to introduce you to the best man I know, Tony Thomas.”

  “Hello,” he said, grinning.

  “Oh, is this the friend you talk about in all your interviews?” she asked.

  “The one and only. You caught me at a horrendous time, but Tony here will take wonderful care of whatever it was you might’ve needed from me. I can assure you.”

  All I was met with was a giggle as I took her hand and brought it to my lips. Even as I kissed the top of her skin, there was nothing. No pull to take her to bed. No sexual want cascading through my bones. I handed her hand over to Tony, who was giving me a quizzical look. I winked at him before I slid off my seat, leaving my drink for him to pick up this time. He owed me from the last time he stuck me with the tab anyway.

  I walked back across the street and headed up to my hotel room. I pulled out my cell phone to call Sarah and was relieved when it actually started ringing. She didn’t pick up, which was pretty typical of her, but I knew if I called her back again she would.

  And like clockwork, the phone clicked alive.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “I just want to talk. That’s all.”

  “No,” she said.

  “Sarah. What’s going on? What did I say? We agree to a fresh start, we have a conversation where we actually learn quite a bit about one another, and then you just leave. What happened? Just give me that.”

  “Do you not think your actions have consequences?” she asked.

  “I’m not following.”

  “Just a general observation. Do you think you just walk this planet without consequence because you have money?” she asked.

  “Nope. Can’t say that’s my mindset.”

  “Well, you sure as hell have a weird way of showing it.”

  “All right. Now that we’re done playing Jeopardy, mind giving me the question to this answer you’re spewing at me?” I asked.

  “Who is Emma Nelson?”

  The name froze me in my spot. My sister? She was pissed about my sister?

  “Are you pissed that I stood up my sister?” I asked.

  “No, I’m pissed that you stood up my best friend, who just happens to be your sister.”

  What? Holy fuck. Now it all made sense. Every single fucking thing about the dive bomb that was that lunch now made sense.

  “Emma Nelson is your best friend,” I said.

  “Yep.”

  “Shit. Sarah, I had no idea.”

  “Neither did I, until you said her name. And then it all clicked. With who you are and what you do to women. Do you know how many times I’ve held Emma crying because you wouldn’t take her calls?”

  “All she wanted to talk about was rekindling things with Mom. I told her if she wanted to talk about anything else, go ahead.”

  “You can’t do that if you don’t take her fucking calls, Mason. Want to know how many angry dinners I’ve had with her? Where she’s had to choke back tears just so she could eat because you kept canceling on her?” she asked.

  “I told you. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to travel that road yet,” I said.

  “You didn’t even give her the courtesy of calling her this time, Mason!” she exclaimed. “I had to watch my best friend cry into her fucking plate of food because of you.”

  I honestly didn’t know what to say. It made sense, but if she thought she was going to guilt trip me into opening a door I wasn’t ready to open, Sarah was sorely mistaken. She might have the whole of Dallas in the palm of her hand, but I wasn’t a Dallas resident. She didn’t have a bit of influence in this world outside of her dinky little talk show, and she was about to figure that shit out quickly.

  “That’s why we can’t be together,” she said. “No phone calls. No dates. Nothing. Emma wouldn’t approve, and by the way you’ve treated her, I can’t say I do, either.”

  “That’s bullshit, and you know it. All you’ve done is find an excuse to push me away before I hurt you first. You admitted it over lunch, the reason why you left after we slept together on our first date. I’ve chased you down. Come to your studio. Blown up your phone. Hell, I l
et you plan out the entire second date.”

  “Before you got revenge on me,” she said.

  “Looking back, not the best idea. So, we’ve both made some mistakes. But I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I can’t get you off my mind, no matter what the hell I do.”

  She went silent on the other end of the phone, and I was hoping to hell and back that didn’t mean she was about to hang up.

  “You’ve made my best friend cry. On several occasions. I can’t ignore that,” she said.

  “And I’d never expect you to. All I’m asking is for you to acknowledge the chemistry you know the two of us have.”

  “All right. Fine. Yes, I can admit we have chemistry,” she said.

  “Let me take you out one last time.”

  “No.”

  “Just once.”

  “No, Mason.”

  “If we go out one more time, and you don’t feel the chemistry. If you don’t feel that pull, that tug at the pit of your gut that screams for you to have just a little bit more, then I’ll walk away. For good. No phone calls, no showing up at your studio, no nothing.”

  “No nothing?” she asked.

  “All of it. Gone.”