by Lena Skye
“Your sister?” Neal asked casually.
Elena nodded.
“What are you planning on telling them?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich.
Elena took a sip of water. “Actually – I was thinking of telling them that I am pregnant.”
“Really, you’re going to explain this situation to them?”
“No,” Elena said quietly. “I actually was planning on telling them the story that you told the board. That George is the father.”
Neal felt a little tug at his heart, as though something sharp was pricking at him, making it hard for him to concentrate. He didn’t expect the jealousy that suddenly dominated his mind.
“Oh,” was all he managed to say.
“Neal,” Elena said cautiously, “I know I said I didn’t want to be a mother, but I never expected to feel… this way.”
“You want to be in this child’s life,” Neal finished for her.
“Yes,” she nodded. “Are you sure you’ll be OK with that?”
“Of course,” Neal said. “I told you I was, and this way – well, you and I will be able to stay friends.”
He lingered on the word friend, and Elena was aware of it. She did feel a little surge of happiness to know that Neal would be in her life, but she also registered the difficulty of their situation. They would have a child together, but they would never be a family. She could claim the child, but Neal would only ever be the uncle.
“I’d like that,” Elena said.
Neal was suddenly aware of how much he wanted to hold her again, as he had in the first few weeks of their strange new arrangement. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, and make love to her again. He wanted to hold his head to her stomach and know that the child she was carrying would one day call him ‘Dad’.
He wanted so many new things that his head spun from the shock of discovering that both Elena and his father had been right. His shallow lifestyle had been an attempt to keep himself from wanting things that he would be terrified to lose. It didn’t matter anyway. In the end, life had forced his hand, and he was at that point now. He had barely experienced what a life of purpose truly meant, and already it was being snatched away from him.
“Shall we get started on the papers you brought from George’s office?” Elena’s voice interrupted his tangled thoughts.
“Yes.” he said, pushing the anger and jealousy he felt to the back of his mind so that he could concentrate on the work at hand.
He was doing this for George, he reminded himself. He vividly remembered his father’s letter, but he had not listened to it. He had never looked after George, never returned the favor, but now, this business was all he had left of his family and whether or not he was capable, whether or not he was interested, he was going to immerse himself in it and salvage what he could of his father's and his brother’s legacy.
He felt a surge of relief in the knowledge that he was not alone. Elena sat by him all night, poring over the papers, explaining things he couldn’t understand, bringing him coffee when his eyes started to droop. By the next morning, he was exhausted and drained, but he was also surprised to realize that for the first time in a long time, he was also content.
Chapter12
There was a week left before George would be officially declared dead. All his assets would pass to his unborn child and at that point, Neal would be the major shareholder of Hargrove Brothers and Company, effectively becoming president in his brother’s stead. At least, for the next twenty-one years.
He felt drained and disbelieving. He had never expected to end up where he was. Neal knew that the board’s declaration meant nothing in the long run. It was not a confirmation, or a death sentence, and yet, Neal felt as though he were losing his brother all over again, but after the week was over, George Hargrove would really be gone, and there would never be any closure.
Neal would never know what had truly happened, where his body now lay, if it had washed up on an island somewhere, or if it was buried deep under the sea. He wished that at the very least, he could have buried George. He wished he could have had a proper funeral for him. He was also aware that after the week was up, he would have to plan a memorial service. The thought of that filled him with dread.
There was more on his mind than grief, however. The other board members were being uncooperative and Neal knew that they would not make his transition into the business world easy. Cliff, in particular, was cold, distant, and passive aggressive whenever he encountered Neal. His eyes were roving, and always observant, and sometimes Neal felt that he had not yet given up. Not even after being presented with the paternity test that stated George Hargrove was the father of Elena's baby.
Neal worried about Elena as well. She had been more quiet lately. Usually, she was the one who made conversation, but now, she was more prone to silence than conversation. Her thoughts always seemed far away. She didn’t appear to be sad, but there was something he saw under the surface of her eyes that told him she was not happy either.
Elena prepared a light lunch for Neal and herself, before he had to get into the office. After she was done, she went in search for him, only to find him lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. She knew why he looked so forlorn. She wished there was something she could do to make his pain a little lighter. She sat down at the edge of his bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“Not good,” he replied.
“How about some lunch?”
“Not hungry.”
“Eat something anyway,” she encouraged him.
Neal got up and followed Elena to the kitchen. The smell of the lasagna she had made was enticing, but he had no appetite. He went to the sofa, and sank down into it. Elena abandoned her attempts to make him eat something and joined him on the sofa.
“I don’t know how to get rid of all this,” Neal said, clawing at his chest.
Elena understood.
“You have a lot to deal with right now,” she told him calmly, “but you will find your way.”
“How can you be so sure?” he asked in confusion.
“Because your brother is not the only survivor,” Elena said, “you are too.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“I never just say anything,” Elena insisted. “You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, Neal.”
“My father didn’t believe that.”
“Your father didn’t really know you,” Elena said, laying a kiss on his cheek.
“You didn’t believe that either, when we first met,” Neal reminded her.
“I didn’t really know you then.” she smiled at him.
Neal looked at her warm, dark brown eyes; they were kind and compassionate, and he felt that inexplicable need to be with her. To wrap himself around her so that he lost all semblance of where he ended or she began.
“I always feel so lost, Elena,” he spoke softly against her neck, “… except when I’m with you.”
He felt her tense a little at his declaration, but she didn’t let go of him. He lifted his head and found her eyes. They were intense, thoughtful, scared. He couldn't hold himself back any longer, and in a moment of surrender, he leaned in and kissed her dark lips softly. She didn’t return the kiss at first, but then slowly she began to relax into him.
He felt her body respond. Pregnancy had changed Elena a little. She was more conscious of herself, more aware of her body, and yet, she felt more feminine; more powerful, as if somehow the child inside her had reminded her of her inner strength.
Both Neal and Elena heard a strange, unfamiliar sound in the background, but neither one looked up to check. They were too deeply absorbed in each other. Neal lay down flat, pulling Elena on top of him. Her body seemed to come alive under his touch. He was gentle at first, but when his desire overpowered reason, he hands became rough and he grasped at her. His body hardened with need and her body yearned for him desperately as she felt his erection pressing against her. His hands moved beneath her clothes, pul
ling them away from her, and he pushed his off him as well. His hands moved over her, clinging to her, bringing her breasts to his warm mouth, and spreading her thighs apart. Elena gasped as he thrust himself into her passionately, and she clutched at his chest.
“I’m sorry,” Neal said breathlessly, “does this hurt?”
“No…” Elena replied, closing her eyes. “Don’t worry. It feels so good.” She sighed as he moved in her, making her moan and cling to him. Their momentum built and all the desire that they had held back from each other was unleashed, overwhelming them both with ecstasy and pleasure until they trembled in each other's arms with release.
This time, it was different for both of them. The act of making love was not a necessity born out of the desire to become pregnant. There was no end goal but their own desire; their own need for one another. They were together because they chose to be. There was no driving force except for their own passion.
Afterwards, they lay together on the couch. Neal placed a kiss on Elena’s forehead, wondering if he should say something. Elena beat him to it.
“What are we doing, Neal?” she said. “Apart from making everything harder for ourselves.”
“Why should it have to be hard, though?” Neal asked, clutching desperately at some way he could save his company and still have Elena. “I want to be with you.” He whispered the truth to her finally.
Her heart clenched and Elena had to admit that she dreamed about hearing Neal say those words to her, but now that she was hearing them, all she could think about was how it would never work out. There were too many lies, too many deceptions for them to ever have a true relationship.
They would have a child together that they could never claim. They would have to perpetuate those lies to their child. Elena knew that complicating their lives by attempting to keep the happiness they had found with each other, would only end up destroying it in the end.
“I…” Elena paused briefly, steeling herself for what she had to say. “What we have is not real, Neal. It can never be real as long your brother remains the father of my baby.”
Neal knew she was right, but he tried to talk over her.
“No,” Elena said firmly, “listen to me. We have to be practical about this. As far as the world is concerned, I am your brother’s grieving girlfriend. I’m pregnant with his child. Even if we wanted to be together now, it would have to be in secret, until a suitable amount of time has passed.”
Elena looked down, it was too hard to look at those hazel eyes that were watching her pleadingly.
“Do you even know what a suitable period of time is, Neal?”
Neal stood up in frustration.
“You were never George’s lover,” he exclaimed. “You were never his!”
“You and I know that,” Elena said patiently, “but the world does not, and it can never know, if you want to keep your company, and if this is going to work – we need to start believing the lies we have told, instead of holding on to the truth.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning I have to raise your brother’s child,” Elena said softly, “and you have to concentrate on being a good uncle.”
“And what if I want to be a father one day?”
“You will be a father,” Elena told him, “without the title.”
“The title’s important,” Neal said softly.
“It’s the price you have to pay.”
Neal dropped his head in defeat. Elena was right. He had started them down on this path, and now he would have to follow through with it no matter how hard that was.
After Neal left, Elena sat by herself for a little while and cried. She cried for the conversation she and Neal had just shared, for their lost future and their innocent child who had been dragged into all of this. When she was done, she wiped away her tears and walked to the kitchen to have a glass of water. After that, she cleaned the living room, dusted, vacuumed, and then finally sat down to a movie but she couldn’t seem to concentrate on it.
Housekeeping had done a better job of keeping her mind busy. Just then, the doorbell rang and Elena abandoned her movie to answer it. She opened the door to find a tall, older gentleman standing there. He wore a kindly expression and a half smile.
“Hello?” he said. “You must be Elena?”
“I… yes I am.” she answered.
“I’m Cliff Stanley. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Elena tried to block the entrance, but he seemed unconcerned with her obvious discomfort. He swept past her and walked into the house without an invitation. Neal had mentioned Cliff to her a few times now, and never in a very favorable light.
“Neal is at work,” she said, wondering what he was doing at the house instead of at the office.
“I’m not here to see Neal,” he said coolly. “I’m here to see you.”
“Why?” she said immediately sensing danger.
“I was curious,” he replied. “What has he promised you?”
Elena said nothing.
“Money I suppose,” he went on. “You’ll be taken care of your whole life, and so will your child. I suppose I can understand why you agreed to this.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elena said forcefully.
“Oh, I think you do,” Cliff said with a sly smile. “We both know that the baby in your belly is not George Hargrove’s.”
“It most certainly is George's. The paternity test-"
“Was a fake and we both know it. I am not a stupid man, Elena. I didn’t get rich by swallowing every ridiculous story I was fed, and Neal – well, he isn’t the smartest tool in the tool shed. He was very transparent, right from the beginning.”
“Don’t!” Elena said fiercely.
“Ah,” Cliff said with raised eyebrows, “so protective. Am I to assume that this has become more than a business arrangement?”
“Get out,” Elena said, staring daggers at him.
“I think I’ll stay,” Cliff said lightly, then he laughed cruelly. “This is quite the little drama, isn’t it?”
“Please,” Elena said, trying hard to remain calm, “leave.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Neal said from the front door.
Elena spun around to see Neal standing there. Relief flooded through her, somehow. She felt as though Neal would set everything right. Neal walked inside, slamming the door closed behind him.
“Cliff?” he said rudely.
“Just getting to know your little employee here, Neal,” Cliff said cuttingly. “That’s all.”
“Employee?” Neal said, his brow furrowing.
“You are paying her for a service, unconventional though it may be. That makes her your employee.”
“What exactly are you trying to say?” Neal asked bluntly.
“I’m trying to say that you are going to lose this company, boy,” Cliff spat, dropping his smile. “That bastard in her belly is not going to be enough to keep your fortune.”
Neal's hands clenched into fists.
“There is no way for you to prove that,” he said, struggling to remain calm.
Cliff laughed. Then, from inside his jacket pocket, he pulled out a few post card sized photographs. He threw them onto the empty kitchen counter so that both Neal and Elena could see. They were images of the two of them, kissing one another, holding each other, making love on the couch. They were pictures of their morning together. Neal noticed that some pictures were older. There was one from a few days ago when he had kissed Elena near the kitchen. He looked up furiously.
“You know what they say about people in glass houses,” Cliff said with a laugh.
“All this proves is that I am sleeping with my brother’s girlfriend,” Neal said, noticing that Elena flinched slightly at his words, but he went on, “it does not mean she is not carrying George’s child.”
“Ah yes,” Cliff said, seemingly unconcerned, “you could very easily have started sleeping together after his death was announced. Which woul
d still make the baby his.”
He looked from Neal to Elena and gave them a vindictive smile.
“Another paternity test should disprove that little claim,” he said confidently, “and I think you’ll find that the doctor I choose will not be so easily bought.”
Elena watched as Neal’s horror struck face calmed slowly. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but she hoped he had a plan.
“Get the hell out of my house,” Neal said finally, his tone eerily calm.
Cliff chuckled at the vehemence in Neal’s voice.
“With pleasure,” Cliff said patronizingly.