Unexpected (Complete Accidental Pregnancy Box Set)

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Unexpected (Complete Accidental Pregnancy Box Set) Page 60

by Lilian Monroe


  In a word, she looked rich.

  I shake my head and start walking toward the front door. I still think I’m in Lexington, where I know everyone and their dog. I’m in New York City now, and I know no one. Of course I didn’t know that woman. And if she lives in the building, of course she would be rich. I can’t imagine anybody in the middle class living in this place.

  Still, the way her face soured when we almost stepped into each other made me uneasy. I take a deep breath and walk out the automatic sliding doors and find Jess’s car. By the time I slide into the driver’s seat, the woman is out of my mind.

  I take my time going back to Jess’s place, noticing all the shops and people and houses along the way. It really is the city that never sleeps. Every day I see things I’ve never seen before. I pull up outside Jess’s house and sigh.

  I wish I didn’t have to leave. I’ve only just met Dean and I want to spend more time with him. I can’t make any sense of him—he’s like a bunch of opposites stuck together. An investment banker who moonlights as a clown for children’s parties, a billionaire’s son who is completely down to earth, a man who’s been through heartbreak who seems to wear his heart on his sleeve.

  I smile as I think of the way he tucked my hair behind my ear earlier. His touch was so tender and it sent a shiver through my body. I get out of the car and head up toward the front door. There’s a small package on the front step and I bend over to pick it up. I frown as I see my name scrawled across the top of it.

  I give the package a light shake and turn it over. It’s a small box, about the size of a pencil case. It’s wrapped in brown paper with ‘SAM’ scrawled across the top in black sharpie. It feels light. I read my name a few times and give it a shake, but I can’t feel anything. The unease I felt earlier when I ran into that woman returns to the pit of my stomach. I tuck the package under my arm and find my keys to go inside.

  As soon as I step inside, I hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet running toward me. I kneel down and spread my arms as two toddlers collide with me. I laugh and wrap them both into a hug. Jess isn’t far behind, chasing after them as usual. I lift them up and they giggle as I carry them toward the living room.

  “You look happy!” Jess exclaims. She picks up the package that I dropped when the twins ran toward me and follows me to the living room. “You were gone a while. I was starting to get worried.”

  “You were not,” I say as I shoot a glance her way. She laughs and shakes her head.

  “No, I wasn’t. I thought you might be enjoying yourself,” she says as she wiggles her eyebrows. I roll my eyes and turn to Michelle, tickling her until she’s giggling and writhing on the floor. Matt runs to protect his sister and starts scrunching his hands under my armpits to try to tickle me too. I pretend to laugh and fall over and pretty soon both kids are on top of me attacking me with tickles. I laugh and finally peel them off me to stand up.

  “He’s a nice guy,” I finally answer.

  “Mm-hmm,” Jess replies, lifting an eyebrow slightly. My cheeks flush as she holds out the package. “What’s this?”

  “I’m not sure, it was by the front door.” I turn it over again and look up at Jess. “Ronnie showed up earlier.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, just as I was leaving. He made a scene and then left. I wonder…”. My voice trails off as I stare at the package in my hands. Jess’s hand appears on my forearm.

  “Sam,” she says. Her voice is soft and her eyes are full of concern. “You don’t have to open it. It doesn’t matter what it is. If he keeps showing up you could charge him with harassment. You don’t have to put up with this.” She stands up a bit straighter and shakes his head. “I can’t believe he showed up here! How did he get my address?”

  “He must have asked my mom,” I reply as I shake my head. I put the package on a shelf and take a deep breath. “I won’t open it tonight. I feel too good.”

  “Exactly,” Jess says. “Enjoy this feeling. Enjoy your freedom and enjoy your glorious post-orgasmic glow.”

  “Jess!” I exclaim, my cheeks flushing even more. She just laughs and waves a hand in front of her face.

  “Did you think I couldn’t tell?”

  I bite my lip and start laughing. Just then, the twins appear beside me and latch on to each of my legs. I laugh and start walking across the living room as they hold on, giggling the whole way. Jess shakes her head.

  “They love you,” she says with a smile. “You’re great with kids.”

  I sigh and ruffle Matt’s hair. “I was hoping to have one of my own by now,” I admit. My lips purse together and I lift my eyes up to Jess. “Looks like that’ll have to wait.”

  “You never know,” she says with a grin. “You’re moving pretty fast with this clown of yours.”

  I blush again and shake my head. “Not that fast.”

  Jess laughs. “Come on,” she says. “I need to put those two in the bath. There’s some spaghetti on the stove if you’re hungry.”

  “Thanks,” I say, handing off the twins to her waiting arms. I watch her walk down the halls and talk to her children and I feel something in the pit of my stomach. Owen appears and gives me a wave before following her to the bathroom. They have such a nice life together. Two beautiful kids, a supportive, loving husband—am I jealous of Jess? I thought I had what she has, but it turns out all I had was betrayal and heartbreak.

  My eyes flick to the brown paper package on the shelf and I shake my head. I walk to the kitchen and grab a bowl. My stomach growls in appreciation as I start spooning spaghetti into my dish.

  My phone buzzes and I glance at the screen. A smile forms on my lips and the jealousy I felt a few minutes ago disappears. Dean’s name flashes on the screen.

  Dean: I had a good time tonight.

  I grin and type out my answer, holding my phone to my chest for a second as I remember the evening I just had. Life isn’t so bad, and Jess is right. Maybe my happily-ever-after isn’t so far away after all.

  29

  Dean

  It feels like only a minute or two since Sam left when a knock comes on the door. I glance around the apartment as I walk toward the front door, wondering if she forgot something. I don’t see anything of hers and I grab the door handle with a grin across my face. I open the door, ready to see Sam’s smiling face.

  “Mom!” I exclaim. “What are you doing here?”

  “Good to see you too, Dean,” she says sarcastically, her eyes traveling down to my underwear. “Is that a way to greet your own mother?”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask again. My whole body is tense as we stare at each other across the doorway.

  “You’re not going to invite me in?” she replies. I pause for a moment before stepping aside. My mother walks into my apartment. I close the door and walk over to my discarded pants and pull them on, shimmying from side to side as I pull them up with one hand.

  “Your father told me what happened yesterday,” she says as she sits on the edge of a chair, crossing her legs and folding her hands on top of her knee. Everything about her is perfectly manicured, with not a single hair out of place. All her movements are deliberate and she looks around the room with a hint of disgust on her face.

  I grunt in response and grab the empty beer bottles from the coffee table to throw them out.

  “Won’t you be reasonable, Dean? Your father is willing to take you back in at work if you just listen to what he has to say.”

  “Reasonable?” I exclaim as I drop the bottles in the garbage. “You want me to be reasonable? I would say it’s reasonable to break up with someone who cheated on you. Wouldn’t you?”

  My mother waves a hand dismissively and huffs. “You talk as if marriage is about love, Dean. This is so much bigger than that. We’ve had this planned since you were a child.”

  “Did you ever consider what I might want? Maybe I don’t want to go into politics, maybe I do want to marry for love. What about that? Maybe I don’t want a wife who sleep
s with other men in our own bed.”

  “She made a mistake, Dean,” my mother says. “She shouldn’t have brought someone else back to your place.”

  “But if she’d done it somewhere else it would be okay?” I spit back. “What if it had been me? What if it had been me who had cheated? How would her family react? Would the deal still be on?”

  “You’d never do that, son, I know you wouldn’t.”

  “That’s not the point, mom. The point is that if it had been me, they would be outraged and the deal would be off. There’s probably some morality clause that excuses us from the deal in this situation, isn’t there? But you won’t use it because you’re so fucking power hungry that you’d ignore what I actually want.”

  My mother’s eyes narrow and her voice is low when she speaks.

  “You’re forgetting that ‘what you want’ is only possible because of what your father and I sacrificed. Have some respect,” she spits the last word at me and then pats the sides of her head, smoothing her perfect hair back. “Dean,” she starts again, a bit more softly, “This is bigger than you. There are arrangements that can be made for marriages like this to work. Your father and I…”

  “I don’t want to hear about your fucked up marriage, mother. Have you ever considered that I don’t want what you have? Maybe it isn’t worth it to me!”

  My mother laughs. She sweeps her arm across the room and raises an eyebrow. “All this isn’t worth it? That nice black Bentley isn’t worth it? Those credit cards aren’t worth it? Let me teach you something, Dean,” she snarls as she gets up off the seat. She takes a step toward me and pokes her long fingernail into my chest. “You’ll see how worth it it is. You’re cut off.”

  I open my mouth and close it again, frowning. “Cut off? What do you mean?”

  “I mean it’s time to chop these apron strings, my dear son,” she says with a cruel smile. “No more trust fund. No more mommy and daddy. No more credit cards from our line of credit. Nothing. If you won’t be part of the family business and the family dynasty, then you are on your own. I’m giving you three months, Dean. After three months you’ll be ready to come back to the family.”

  She pulls her hand back and turns on her heels, heading for the front door. I watch her walk away and watch the door swing shut. It’s not until I hear the elevator ding down the hall that I’m pulled out of my stupor. I shuffle to the front door in a daze and slide the lock closed before turning around in my apartment.

  Cut off.

  I’ve always felt independent, but she’s right. Everything is from the business accounts. The car, the apartments, the credit cards… none of it is mine. I have some savings, sure, but that won’t keep me going long. I put a hand to my head and let out a breath. I haven’t even realized how dependent I am on my parents until right now.

  I’m being cut off.

  Once the shock starts to wear off, anger starts curling around my stomach. My own mother is sucking me dry, cutting me off just because I won’t play along with their little power play! My parents don’t respect me as a person, or care how I feel. They only want their own fucking master plan to come to fruition.

  “Fuck!” I yell, slamming my hand down on the counter. My heart is thumping in my chest and I take a few deep breaths, trying to figure out what I’ll do. I walk back and forth a few times and finally head out to the balcony. The cold night air fills my lungs and I take a deep breath, letting it cool my anger ever so slightly. I’m still shirtless, and within a few seconds, goosebumps start forming on my skin. I shiver, but I don’t go inside. The chill feels good and it helps to clear my head.

  They may be cutting me off but that doesn’t mean I’m destitute. I have money, I have skills, I have contacts. I can find work for another firm and actually be independent for once. I can be my own man and not rely on my parent’s money to support me.

  As much as I’m hurt by my parent’s indifference, and as scared as I am about being on my own, there’s a sense of excitement that starts budding in the pit of my stomach. It’s about time I was my own man. Maybe my mother was right. It’s time to cut the apron strings.

  30

  Samantha

  The days drag on until the weekend. Finally, it’s Friday and I pack an extra pair of underwear, deodorant, and a toothbrush in my purse. Just in case, I tell myself as my heart skips a beat. I walk out of my room and Jess winks at me.

  “Have fun,” she says.

  “I will,” I answer and kiss the kids’ heads. “I’ll see you later.”

  I walk toward the front door and my eye catches the little brown box sitting on the shelf, exactly where I left it earlier this week. I pause, staring at it, and then shake my head. Not tonight. I don’t want to know what Ronnie sent me. I already know it would only upset me.

  I head out to the waiting cab and give him the address of the restaurant. We pull up outside and I frown.

  “Are you sure this is it?” I ask.

  “This is Emilio’s on East 104th,” he replies in a gruff voice. I nod and pay him before stepping out. It’s not that it isn’t nice, it’s just that compared to the glamour of our last date, it’s a bit more understated. Who am I kidding? It looks completely run-down. The paint is peeling and the sign looks like it’s about a hundred years old. If there wasn’t a light shining inside, I could have mistaken the restaurant for an abandoned building. I shake my head and smile. Even a couple dates in, I’m already expecting to be spoiled. I chuckle. I need to keep an open mind and be myself.

  I head toward the restaurant door when I hear my name.

  “Sam!” Dean is jogging down the street, one arm stretched above his head. He still has his sling on, and he’s holding his arm tight to his chest. My heart grows a few sizes as he gets closer. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me in for a kiss.

  “Mm,” he says. “You taste minty!”

  I laugh. “I wanted to be prepared.”

  Dean smiles and nods to the restaurant. “I know it’s a bit different from last time, but I know the owner and this is the best Italian food in Manhattan outside of Little Italy.”

  “It looks great,” I say. “More my style.”

  “Good,” he says. “Plus, I got fired. I’m on a budget now,” he laughs.

  “Well don’t stretch yourself too thin,” I grin. “Dinner’s on me tonight.”

  He opens the door and motions me through with a sweeping motion. I step through and we’re immediately greeted by a short bald man. He’s wider than he is tall and has bright red ruddy cheeks. He’s wearing a white apron and has a thick grey mustache.

  “Mister Dean!” He calls out. His eyes swing over to me and he brings his hand to his heart and bows. I smile. “This must be your beautiful date. Please,” he says, extending a hand. I slip mine into his and smile as he leans over to kiss my hand. I giggle as his mustache tickles my hand and glance up at Dean. He shakes his head.

  “Emilio, keep this up and I’ll be leaving here alone. You’ll steal her off me!”

  “No, no, no! Come!” He motions us over to a table near the front of the restaurant. It’s beautifully set, with a rich white tablecloth and a candle flickering in the middle. There’s a single daisy in a simple vase, and red cloth napkins folded into an elaborate triangle on the plates. Emilio pulls out my chair and another waiter appears with wine. I grin at Dean.

  “What did I tell you,” he says. “What are we having tonight, Emilio?”

  “Tonight we have a delicious meal planned,” he starts. For the next couple minutes, he’s rattling off dishes and ingredients and wine pairings and I can hardly keep up. All I know is that it sounds delicious. Dean thanks him and he promises to check in with us again once we have our food. Dean smiles at me.

  “I always have Emilio prepare a set menu when I come here. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all,” I reply with a smile. My heart is beating in my chest and I put my hand across the table. Dean places his palm over mine and we stare at each other for a f
ew moments.

  I’m so happy right now. I feel so lucky! Coming to New York was the best decision I ever made. I lose myself in Dean’s eyes and all thoughts of Ronnie, the divorce, and that little brown box evaporate from my mind.

  We have another spectacular meal, and after many thank you’s and promises to come back, we leave Emilio and the staff behind. I put a hand to my stomach as I hook my other arm around Dean’s.

  “That was amazing, but I feel like I could roll home.”

  “It’s a lot of food,” Dean laughs. “Come on, Central Park is right here. Let’s go for a walk.”

  It feels less like a walk and more like I’m floating through space. He interlaces his fingers into mine and I lean my head against his shoulder as we walk and talk and laugh. I don’t remember the last time I felt this good. I don’t know if it’s the wine, or Dean, or the beautiful starry night, but everything feels so perfect.

  We walk wherever our feet take us, and soon Dean is hailing a cab and giving his address. My heart starts beating and I squeeze his hand, feeling the heat growing at the meeting of my legs. Dean looks down at me and smiles. His face drops and he looks at his cast, sighing.

  “I can’t wait to get this thing off so I can fuck you properly,” he growls. My heart jumps and my center blossoms with heat at his words. I can feel my cheeks flushing.

  “Not too long,” I manage to reply. He smiles just as the cab pulls up outside his place. By the time we’re in the elevator, we’re clawing at each other’s clothes, crushing our lips together, tangling our fingers into each other’s hair.

  “I don’t think you need two hands,” I say as the elevator opens. “You’re doing pretty well with just one.”

  Dean grins and nods to his door. “Let’s go.”

  31

  Dean

 

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