The Tycoon's Temporary Twins
Page 30
"Yeah." Kathy smiled. "You just have to remember that people are people. Every single one of us."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're fascinating?" Tehar said, putting down his wine.
Kathy, caught off guard, laughed.
"Not really," she said. "But thanks. You're pretty interesting yourself."
"You've always done excellent work as an anchor," Tehar said. "But I can't help feeling you have more of a field journalist's sensibilities."
"I do prefer being in the field," Kathy confirmed. "I love traveling and getting to be a part of the story. But the pay is better in anchoring and what I report on actually gets seen, instead of forgotten in the back page of some travel journal."
"Would you like to go back to field work some day?" Tehar asked.
"Definitely," Kathy replied. "But with a kid to look after, I couldn't travel. I remember what that was like with my dad, and I'd rather not put a kid through that. And I couldn't afford it, anyway."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Tehar said. "As the mother of my child, regardless of our continued relationship, you would receive a generous stipend. Very generous. I would make sure of it."
"That really isn't necessary," Kathy said, flustered. "I do fine on my own and with my inheritance—"
"You might be raising my son half of the year," Tehar interrupted, calm and implacable. "If I have any say in it at all, the both of you will never want for anything."
"You're too generous," Kathy said, meaning it.
"It's easy to be generous when you have more money than you could spend in a lifetime." Tehar chuckled, and the waiter brought out another course.
It was a beautiful, single slice of rare wagyu sirloin served with marrow. It looked like art on the plate and melted in Kathy's mouth, unlike the Shiraz that came with it, which went straight to her increasingly light head. She'd have to be more careful about just tasting the wine rather than finishing the glass or she'd end up drunk, which was no way to end a…date? Interview? Whatever this was.
"What about you?" she asked as they ate and relished the brief delight of the delicious meat. "What was it like growing up royal?"
Tehar considered the question for a moment.
"I am unsure how to describe it, having never known anything else," he admitted. "I never went hungry, or lonely. I had a dozen siblings and cousins to run wild with across the palaces and villas of our parents. I started my formal education at six, and much of my time was spent with private tutors learning various skills and histories, and the names and lineages of my extended family. It's considered a sign of respect to know a family's history, so I was expected to know them all, among many, many other things."
"Sounds like hard work for a six-year-old," Kathy said.
"I had very little patience for it at first," Tehar admitted with a smile. "But I soon grew to understand and accept my duty to my family. I had a cousin, Shadaf, who was often ill. We would study together, or avoid our work and talk or read to each other. He has been my closest friend for all my life."
"That reminds me of Tessa and me," Kathy said with a grin. "We've been friends since middle school. Some bully stole my pencil case and called me fat. I was kind of a heavy kid. Tessa punched him right in the nose. We've been best friends ever since. When I moved out here from Colorado, she followed a few months later. We even have condos in the same building now."
Tehar nodded in understanding, his expression still touched with the fondness of remembering his own best friend.
"Sometimes I think we put too much importance on romantic relationships," Tehar said. "I've never felt the need to seek out someone to be in love with. But I could not have made it to where I am without friends to rely on. I believe friendships can be just as important and fulfilling as romantic relationships."
"Definitely," Kathy agreed. "I also don't think it's fair that we expect our romantic partners to also be our best—and sometimes only—friend. Romantic partners and friends fulfill very different emotional needs. It's practically impossible to expect one person to be able to be both things. We're social creatures. We need emotional support beyond just who we're sleeping with."
"I couldn't agree more," Tehar said, smiling.
They continued to talk as three more courses proceeded and then well after them, leaning across the table towards each other as their conversation rambled through their personal histories through philosophical quandaries and back into details about the possible arrangement.
Kathy was amazed by how seriously she was considering it by the time the meal ended. They sat nursing their dessert wines and discussing non-interference and objectivity in reporting, and Kathy searched herself for any sign of doubt. He was her boss, after all, and an incredibly powerful man. This wasn't something she should go into lightly. But her heart was already sold. He met all the requirements she'd set, and exceeded them.
Most importantly, she knew him. She'd already known he was a good, reliable person. Working with him for years had shown her his dedication, his focus, how he treated the people under him. She'd seen that he could stay impartial and keep this businesslike. And tonight she'd seen that he was someone she liked on a personal level as well. Someone she would be able to get along with ten years or more down the line for family functions. She could share her child's life with him. It wasn't a grand romance sweeping her off her feet, but it was what she was looking for. And, quite unexpectedly, she found herself looking forward to the next time they would speak.
It was quite late when they finally noticed how long they'd been talking. The wine dizziness had faded to a pleasant warmth as they made their way out into the night. The cool breeze off the bay was refreshing on Kathy's flushed cheeks, and the smell of the salty air was strong.
"Did you take a taxi here?" Tehar asked, surprising her. For a moment, she'd forgotten he was just behind her.
"Yeah," she replied. "I'll be fine, don't worry."
"I've already called my driver," Tehar said. "It would be no trouble for me to take you home."
Kathy considered turning him down, but then realized she couldn't think of a single reason why she should.
"Thank you," she said. "I appreciate it."
It wasn't a far drive. They sat in the back of Tehar's sleek black town car, looking out their own windows in comfortable silence. They were close enough to feel each other's warmth, and for a moment Kathy worried he was going to make a move. But he was as quietly formal as ever, keeping a distinct emotional distance. This was a business transaction and nothing more, and that was both a relief and, in some little, unacknowledged way, a disappointment.
The car pulled up in front of her condo and Tehar got out to walk her to her door.
"Have you decided yet?" he asked as they climbed the stairs. "Whether to accept my offer?"
Kathy hesitated to answer. Part of her wanted to say yes at once, but the rest of her was smart enough to know she was a little tipsy and that this was not a decision to make without sleeping on it.
"Not yet," she said. "I want to really think about this."
"Take all the time you need," Tehar said at once. "But I believe I've already made my decision."
"Really?" Kathy stared at him. "It's that easy for you?"
"I knew the moment you sent me that text," Tehar replied without a hint of doubt.
Kathy's heart skipped a beat. They'd reached her door, and for a moment they paused and Kathy considered inviting him in. Before she could make up her mind if she wanted to, Tehar took her hand, kissed the tops of her fingers like a fairytale prince, and stepped away.
"Goodnight, Miss Burgess," he said.
"Kathy," Kathy corrected him again, instinctively.
"Kathy," he repeated with a small smile, and before she knew it he had vanished down the stairs. Kathy, a little overwhelmed, turned and went inside.
You're home late, Tessa texted as soon as the door shut behind Kathy. What happened? Should I come over?
It went great, Kathy texted
back as she shuffled off to bed. I'll tell you in the morning, but I think all my problems are solved.
Chapter Six
Even with the wine making her mind slow and heavy, it took Kathy a while to fall asleep, her brain humming with thoughts of the Sheikh and his offer. She still had a lot of doubts. What if he wasn't what he seemed? What if something went wrong? What if she had this baby and then couldn't bear to give it up, even for two weeks a month? And was it wrong of her, morally, to have this child for the sake of money and a house? Would it grow up resenting her for the reasons she'd chosen to have it?
There was still a lot to consider. But she was, for the first time, honestly excited about the prospect of having a child. It had been this looming, dreadful necessity before, but now she was kind of looking forward to it. She was imagining buying baby clothes and reading bedtime stories. With the inheritance money, maybe she'd transfer back to Colorado so that she could raise the baby in the family home. She could see it so clearly when she imagined them in that setting. School plays, holidays, summers in Abu Sadah with Tehar, standing on the shore of some exotic island holding the hand of a child with his deep olive skin and her eyes…
She fell asleep with that image in her mind and dreamed of it all night. In the morning, even after the wine and the rush of excitement had worn off, she was still certain. This was what she wanted. He was what she wanted. She made herself give it a day anyway, but by the afternoon, waiting any longer seemed pointless. She knew.
As soon as she'd wrapped up her last recording for the day, she knocked on Tehar's office door.
He called out for her to come in, and she opened the door to find him standing behind his desk, sorting papers into a small case. He smiled when he saw her, closing the case and coming around the desk to meet her.
"Miss Burgess," he said brightly. "You look good. All done for the day?"
"Yeah, I'm about to head home," she answered, smiling. "But I wanted to talk to you first. I thought about what you said last night and—"
"One moment." He cut her off, stepping past her to shut the door to his office. "Please continue." He smiled, stepping back.
"I thought about what you said." She looked down, pushing her hair back behind her ear. "I wanted to give it another day, but I realized I was just putting it off for no reason. I had already made up my mind last night. I want to do this with you."
Tehar's smile brightened and he grasped her warmly by the shoulders.
"That's fantastic!" he said. "I was hoping that was what you were going to say!"
"I was thinking we could maybe go somewhere tonight," Kathy said, grinning. "We could talk about doctors, make a plan, establish a timeline. I need to have a baby or at least a viable pregnancy by March of next year to meet the terms of the will, so—"
"I'm afraid I can't tonight," Tehar said with clear reluctance. "I'm leaving for the airport directly from here."
"Right now?" Kathy asked, surprised. "I thought you were supposed to be here for a few months?"
"I'm needed in Abu Sadah urgently," Tehar explained. "I should only be gone a few days. A week at most. We can make plans when I return."
Kathy wilted, unable to hide her disappointment.
"Of course," she said. "Do whatever you need to. I'll do some research here and try to have as much as I can ready for when you get back."
"Thank you, Kathy," Tehar said, taking his case off the desk. "I'll be back as quickly as I can."
He stepped past her towards the door and then paused.
"Please keep our arrangement to yourself," he said, turning back to face her. "I know it's a lot to ask, considering. But the company cannot afford another scandal right now, and if the press thought you and I were…involved. I'd just rather have a plan and go public when we're ready, you understand?"
"Yeah, absolutely." Kathy nodded in understanding. She hadn't really thought about what would happen if their arrangement got out, but she could see how it might cause problems, especially if the nature of their relationship was misconstrued. "Don't worry. I'll take care of things here."
"Thank you, Miss Burgess," Tehar said, opening his office door. "I'll see you soon."
He hurried off and Kathy followed him, still trying to mask her disappointment. She watched him hurry off down the hall, feeling at a bit of a loss. They had just made this enormous, life-changing decision together, and now he was leaving. She'd wanted this to be a business arrangement. She'd wanted them to stay emotionally detached. But maybe she'd hoped for a little more involvement than this. She sighed and pulled herself together. She needed to get home. She was going to spend the evening researching, and the next day visiting doctors. She had a lot to get done.
"What were you talking to the Sheikh about?"
Kathy turned, surprised, as a voice spoke behind her. Mitchell, in his usual ugly Hawaiian print shirt, was standing at the end of the hall, grinning like he'd just caught her red-handed at something.
"Are you and the chairman…?" He made a vulgar gesture with his hands.
"No." Kathy rolled her eyes. "Don't be disgusting. I was just asking him about something for work."
"What do you have to talk about with him that you couldn't talk about with me?" Mitchell asked, scowling. "I'm your boss."
"Nothing important," Kathy said, searching for a plausible excuse. "I was just asking if QIC Media had any openings in Colorado. I just inherited a house there, and I'm deciding whether to sell it or move there."
"So, you're looking for another job and you're trying to go over my head with it?" Mitchell's face was turning red with anger under his orange spray tan.
"No," Kathy said quickly. Christ, if he thought I was leaving, he'd make my work a living hell. "I'm not moving. I just wanted to ask. I'm not going anywhere."
"I swear to God if you're job hunting and just drop us with two weeks to find a replacement—"
"I'm not job hunting, Mitchell!" Kathy said impatiently. "Jesus! Relax! I'm going home!"
She hurried out before he could launch into a rant that would keep her there all evening. He'd make her pay for even the thought of leaving, she knew. If she'd been being considered for any kind of pay raise, that was out the window. He'd probably cut her hours and try to scrap her personal projects for a while too until he was 'sure' she wasn't leaving.
Whatever, she thought with a huff. She probably was going to transfer to Colorado, anyway. She wasn't getting anywhere professionally in South Beach. She'd move to Colorado when the pregnancy was too far along to keep working, and once she'd recovered she'd look into one of the larger networks. Maybe field journalism again. She'd love a chance to travel. Whatever she decided to do, at least she wouldn't have to deal with Mitchell much longer.
Kathy kept busy all weekend, comparing doctors and making plans. It was tedious work, but this kind of research was what she excelled at. It was what made her a good journalist. She was never afraid to slog through the raw information, as much of it and as long as it took to parse things. She wasn't the type to let people hand her opinions or to just report whatever sounded most exciting.
She wanted—no, needed—to know what she was talking about, comprehensively and in context. Her dad had drilled that into her. You could have quizzed him about any article he'd ever written, and he'd be able to give you the facts of the situation down to the minutest detail. More importantly, he could then bring those details together into a perspective that made sense, and Kathy prided herself on doing the same.
"The headline, the simplified bit that draws people in, is important," he used to say. "But if you don't have substance underneath, if you have no truth to impart or at least a perspective you can open people's eyes to, then you're not just wasting time, you're actively misleading people. Fear-based media that riles people up just to make money, with nothing to back it up and nowhere to direct all that emotion, it's the cancer that's eating this country."
He'd been fond of the 'cancer of society' metaphors before his diagnosis.
Are you busy? I'm still looking at doctors and I could use a second opinion, she wrote.
She went back to assembling her options in a spreadsheet and had almost forgotten she'd texted him at all until, about fifteen minutes later, her phone buzzed.
Shouldn't you be in bed? it said. It must be four a.m. there.
Sorry, she texted back quickly and almost left it at that. After a moment, she kept typing. I have no idea what time it is where you are.
He replied quickly this time, almost as soon as she hit send. I'm having lunch in Abu Sadah. Why are you up so late?
I don't like to stop until I'm done, she replied. I probably won't have time during the week, so I wanted to get this part taken care of.
This time there was a small pause before he messaged her again.
I'd be happy to take a look.
Great. I'll link you to the spreadsheet.
Spreadsheet?
She sent him the collated data, and another fifteen or twenty minutes passed. She made a cup of tea to hopefully bring her down from the several-coffee-cups-deep caffeine high she was currently riding.
Finally, her phone buzzed again.
Of the local doctors, options B and C seem to be equally qualified, but C's reviews seem more trustworthy to me, he’d written.
That's what I thought, Kathy agreed. But C is a lot pricier.
Price is not a concern. I would meet with them all in person, but I'm leaning towards C, Tehar texted back. However, if you're willing to travel for the procedure, I know a doctor in Europe whose qualifications are more extensive than any of the local options. I have met him before and know him to be reliable and discrete.
I couldn't ask you to fly me to Europe, Kathy replied, frowning. And the doctor is probably way out of my price range as well.
As I said, the price is not a concern, Tehar texted back at once. If it makes it easier, do not think of it as me doing a favor for you. I simply want my child to have the best possible care.