by Nicole Casey
Or so we told ourselves.
“Malcolm! Blake!”
All of the parents cried out to us in surprise. My mom rushed to kiss Jake on the forehead and he stirred but he didn’t wake.
“What are you doing here?”
I caught Grayson’s eye but to my surprise, he looked away almost guiltily.
“We came to talk to you guys,” I replied, gently laying my son on the sofa next to my dad. Instantly, my father, embraced the boy and smiled warmly at me.
“No! We need to talk to you first!” Ella insisted. “We called ahead!”
“Go ahead,” Mal sighed. “God forbid we steal your thunder.”
“Gray and I have an announcement to make,” Ella declared, rising from her spot.
“Let us guess—you two are back together!” Mal chortled and Ella glared at him.
“Well yes…but we’re also having a baby.”
The uproar did cause Jake to wake and I groaned to myself. I hadn’t wanted him to be awake for the drama to unfold but I really should have thought it through better. Of course there was always going to be drama where these people were involved.
“A baby! In your relationship? Are you flipping crazy?” My mom howled. There it was, that shrill tone I loathed with every fiber of my being.
“You guys fight constantly! Do you know what that will do to a child’s development?” Victor howled and Carmen nodded in agreement.
“Really?” Ella whined. “You can’t be happy for us? I thought you always wanted a grandchild!”
“They have a grandchild,” Mal interjected and I paled. I had almost been enjoying the show, forgetting why we came.
All eyes were on him now.
“What?”
“Jake is my son. They have a grandchild.”
“What?”
I had no idea who kept asking but Jake stretched and yawned, looking around sleepily.
“Mom? Dad? Where are we?”
His timing couldn’t have been better.
“You just came here to steal our thunder!” Ella moaned. “You told them we were pregnant, didn’t you?”
Grayson shook his head and stared at me in shock.
“You know what, Ella?” Mal hissed. “It’s not always about you and Grayson even though our entire lives you’ve made it about you. But because we want to give you a present on this joyous occasion, we’re giving it to you while our family, our real, drama-free family, goes out for Chinese food on this Thanksgiving because we have so much to be thankful for.”
He reached for my hand and Jake slipped off the couch and looked at Mal with wide eyes.
“Really?” Jake asked. “Are we going for Chinese food?”
“NO!” All four parents yelled but Malcolm was already grabbing Jake by the hand and leading him out of the house.
“Yes,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Because from now on, we don’t adhere to traditions, we don’t let people tell us how to live and we don’t deal with theatrics. And if that means going out for Chinese food on Thanksgiving, so be it.”
They disappeared out the front door and I looked at the stunned family with some embarrassment.
“Sorry. Gotta go. Oh, one more thing,” I said before I turned to follow Mal and my son. “Mal and I eloped and we’re expecting another baby.”
I scurried from the room as pandemonium broke out and managed to get into the passenger side.
“Drive! Drive!” I urged him as half a dozen faces appeared in the doorway.
“What did you say to them?!” Mal demanded, appreciation in his voice. “They are furious.”
I snorted with laughter.
“I told them we’re pregnant and that we eloped.”
Mal hooted alongside me and soon Jake joined in.
“You are evil!” he gasped. “I wish I’d thought of that.”
“You would have if you’d stayed longer,” I replied magnanimously but Mal shook his head.
“No,” he replied, reclaiming himself as he drove. “I wish I’d thought to elope already.”
I chuckled but my heart was racing.
“Well you know, there’s time.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
He pointed to the glove box and nodded for me to open it. When I did, I saw the velvet box inside and I exhaled.
“Oh, Mal…”
“I was seeing this massive big wedding with all the frills but we can just elope. Today.”
I stared at him and then looked back at Jake.
“What does elope mean?” he asked innocently.
“Your dad wants to marry me.”
“Good. It’s about time,” Jake replied and I laughed.
“I guess I have my answer,” I told Mal, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I’ll marry you today, anywhere you want.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded, swallowing the lump of emotion in my throat.
“Yeah.”
Our fingers entwined and he nodded slowly.
“All right. Let’s make it happen.”
“Wait! We’re still getting Chinese food, right?” Jake demanded and we laughed.
“Yes, of course.”
“And I still get to keep that ring, right?” I teased.
“Good God, what am I marrying into?” Mal protested.
“Only the best family ever,” I promised. “The one we made ourselves.”
- THE END -
Marrying The Wrong Twin
Baby Fever Book 4
Prologue
ASHA
Sometimes, when my mother looked at me, I forgot that I was a woman. Under her withering steel eyes, I was reverted back to a toddler of four whose hand had been caught in the cookie jar.
She liked it that way, though, I could tell. It gave her the feeling of absolute power over me. Daddy was easier to deal with and I was regretting my decision to tell her my plight instead of him. Although in this particular case, I couldn’t be sure that I’d be any better off.
He’s going to learn about it sooner or later, I reasoned.
“I knew this was going to happen,” Mom hissed, her gaze locked on me. “I warned your father a year ago that this was the road you were heading down.”
“Mom,” I muttered. “I—"
“I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth, Asha. You sprout nothing but lies. We tried to raise you right but I knew it. You’re spoiled, impulsive and have no regard for anyone else but yourself.”
Leave it to Mom to make this about her.
Her grey eyes were identical to mine and yet when I met her pointed stare, I saw nothing of myself in her face. She was harder than me, the lines around her eyes proof of the endless stresses she seemed to take upon herself.
“I’ll figure it out,” I mumbled. I heard how hollow the words sounded as they left my lips but I didn’t know what else to say.
“You’ll figure it out?” The scorn in her voice was tangible and struck me like a physical blow. “YOU’LL FIGURE IT OUT?!”
“Collette, what are you screaming about in here?”
Enter Dad.
So much for keeping it under wraps until I could come up with a solution.
Mom didn’t pull her eyes from my face even though I darted my sooty eyes desperately toward my father. As if he could really help me.
I let my black hair fall over my face, realizing, perhaps for the first time that I was not getting out of this unscathed. Until that moment, I had clung to some childish optimism that maybe I’d wake up from under my mother’s nearly violent gaze and be in my canopied bed upstairs, shielded by the sheer curtains.
Maybe, in my sixteen-year-old, underdeveloped brain, I wasn’t really there but at a sleepover with the other cheerleaders, having a bad dream. Any second now, Stephanie or Amber would wake me up with annoyance and tell me to shut up.
But there would be no more cheerleading for me. Not for a long while, not while my father peered at my mother, mild exasperation on his fa
ce as he waited for one of us to speak and tell him what the fuss was about.
“Well?” he demanded. “What happened, Collette? Asha?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes, a wave of shame enveloping me in a torrent. How could I have let this happen?
“Are you going to tell him or do I have to clean up this mess too?” Mom hissed. I pursed my lips together, unable to formulate any words and Mom grunted.
“Our daughter has gotten herself pregnant, James.”
Dad physically reeled back, his bronze face paling to a near-opaque as he gaped at me.
“What?” he gasped. “Asha, tell me this isn’t true!”
But what could I say? I wasn’t just pregnant—I was just over five months along. I’d ignored it as long as I could but I was starting to show, my baby fat no longer hiding the bulge in my belly. It was a wonder that no one had noticed before, except for some of the bitchier girls at school who had mocked my weight gain but had otherwise been clueless.
Why would anyone think that I, Asha Marie Preston, would be knocked up after all? I was an honor student, co-captain of the squad and treasurer of the student council. Not that any of that mattered to my parents. To them, I was Asha Marie Preston, only child and heir to the conglomerate empire my father had been building since he was my age.
When he was sixteen, he was taking the inheritance he got from his father and creating an empire. And I’m about to be a high-school drop out with a kid.
“Asha, say something!” My dad pleaded, his eyes wide with horror. “Is this true?”
“Of course it’s true, James. The question is, what are we going to do with her?”
“Do with me?” I choked, not liking the ominous sound of her tone. “What do you mean?”
Mom scoffed and folded her arms under the tailored blouse, her face contorted in disdain.
“What did you think was going to happen, Asha? Did you think you were going to carry on as usual until a baby popped out?”
“Collette,” my dad said warningly but Mom was incensed, growing more so with each passing second.
“Who is the father?” Dad asked, regaining a slight bit of color in his face and I could see the wheels in his head turning.
He’s thinking about how this can be spun to the company’s benefit, I realized with horror but I couldn’t say why I was shocked. I expected nothing less from my family.
“Don’t get excited, James. It’s some son of a Russian immigrant. He’s only a scholarship student at Villanova.”
I bristled.
“Dmitri Karov is a good guy!” I protested even though it wasn’t true. He hadn’t returned a single text since I’d told him about the baby and he’d gone out of his way to avoid me but I couldn’t give my parents the benefit of knowing that I’d not only gotten myself knocked up, I’d done it by the wrong guy.
“Jesus Christ, Asha!” My dad boomed. “What were you thinking?”
The reality seemed to have struck him as fully as it had me and just as suddenly.
“She obviously wasn’t,” Mom commented with bitter dryness. “But what’s done is done, isn’t it?”
I exhaled cautiously. Yes, of course they were mad. That was to be expected but they were my parents and they would come through for me. That’s what parents did.
They exchanged a long look and seemed to be communicating without speaking, something they did a lot.
After a painfully long silence, Dad nodded.
“Pinehaven,” he said and Mom sighed.
“There’s no choice,” she agreed as I continued to look at them in confusion.
“What’s Pinehaven?” I demanded when nothing else came by the way of an explanation. Instinctively, my hands went to my belly protectively as I waited for an answer.
“It’s a school where you’ll finish out your junior year,” Dad told me but he didn’t meet my eyes. A pang of worry touched my gut and I felt my palms go damp.
“I-I have to leave Villanova?” I squeaked.
“Until the baby is born,” Mom said crisply. “We’ll tell everyone you went abroad for the winter. You can start again in September.”
I didn’t know what to say but I was far too naïve to understand what was going on yet.
“W-why can’t I just stay then?” I managed to ask. “What difference does it make?”
My parents looked at each other again, an identical line firming their mouths and for a second, I didn’t think they were going to answer me.
“Mom?” I insisted. “Why do I have to go to another school?”
“Because no one can know you’re pregnant, Ash.” It was my dad who answered. “Have you told anyone else about this?”
My mouth parted but no words came out.
Uh, they’re going to know when I come back with a baby, I thought but then it hit me; I wasn’t coming back with a baby.
“Asha, did you tell any of your friends?” Mom snapped and I shook my head miserably, tears filling my eyes. Of course I hadn’t breathed a word of it to anyone. Villanova Prep was filled with pretentious types not unlike my parents. They were the same upper-class snobs I’d been with since preschool and I knew they would take this piece of gossip and run.
And that was exactly what my family was afraid of.
“Are you sure? Does the father know?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.
“I told him,” I muttered. “But he’s not taking my calls.”
“Of course he isn’t,” Mom quipped sarcastically. “He doesn’t have any money to support a child.”
“That’s good,” Dad said quickly and I was aghast.
Good? How could any of this be good?
“He’ll be silenced with money,” Mom conceded and I was beginning to feel sick to my stomach.
“No!” I finally managed to choke out. “No! I don’t want to give up this baby!”
“You’re too far along for any other recourse,” Mom reminded me as if termination was what was on my mind.
“I’m keeping the baby!” I insisted and my parents looked at me blankly.
“What?”
It had never occurred to them that I would want to have the baby!
“Oh dear,” Mom muttered, falling onto a winged chair near the desk as if she was having a fainting spell. She was being melodramatic of course.
“James, will you please speak sense to this girl before I lose my mind?”
I glared at her, folding my own arms in an act of defiance, my eyes blazing.
“Ash stop looking at your mother and talk to me,” Dad said in a reasonable tone. I forced myself to look at him, my chin quivering. I willed myself not to cry.
“Honey, I know that it’s hard to imagine right now but this is the best thing for you.”
“You mean it’s the best thing for you!” I countered, scowling.
“We’re a family,” Dad retorted, a hardness lacing his words. “More than that, we’re a brand. Whatever any of us do reflects the company. Think of the optics when my teenage daughter falls pregnant?”
“Optics?” I choked. “What the hell are you talking about, Dad?”
“Watch your mouth, Asha!” Mom snarled. “You have no right to speak to your father like that, not when this is all your fault!”
I clamped my mouth closed and eyed him, waiting for a response.
“You’re too young to understand the political dynamics of all this,” Dad told me, a creep of condescension touching his words. “But it shows that if I can’t control my own family, I’m hardly capable of controlling a multi-billion-dollar empire.”
Again, I was stunned by his business-like approach to this but I had no reason to be. I should have foreseen this outcome. How could I have not?
I felt like the toddler my mother wanted me to feel. I was ashamed. I was angry.
“Before you start an argument, Ash, think about the life you’ll be giving your baby. You haven’t even graduated high school. You’ve never worked a job. How are you going t
o support him?”
My blood ran cold as I gaped at my father.
“W-what?” I mumbled. “I-you…”
I trailed off but the look on my father’s face was unmistakable. If I chose to keep this baby, there would be no support, financial or otherwise from my parents. I didn’t even need to look at my mom for confirmation. I knew what her take would be.
“Pinehaven is a good school. You’ll stay up with your work and you won’t miss a beat,” Dad continued, looking away. “Everything will be fine.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from slipping down my cheeks now as I stared at him pleadingly but I could see the matter was closed to him.
Stop crying. That won’t do anything but show your weakness.
But it was easier thought than done and I hastily wiped the tears from my face.
“This is your grandchild!” I whispered in a half-hearted attempt to sway him even though I knew it was futile.
“You’ll have others,” Mom interjected almost cheerfully. “Properly and with a father who can actually provide.”
Mom shuddered and I was once more entrenched in a wave of nausea.
I couldn’t do this alone and even if I could, Dad was right—I had to think of the effect it would have on the company, the family. My single careless action could cost the company millions if the scandal ever got out.
And what kind of life would that mean for you? I asked my unborn child quietly. You’ll be a spectacle before you’re even in the world.
The shame was making it difficult for me to breathe. I was torn between wanting to flee the sprawling estate in which I’d been raised and succumbing to my parents’ wishes.
I had never known anything but ten course meals and debutante balls. I had never known struggle or pain in any real way.
Perhaps that was why I had been so drawn to Dmitri in the first place, not because of who he was but what he represented—everything I wasn’t.
“Asha, I really don’t know what you’re contemplating,” Mom grunted, rising from her spot. “Do you want your child to grow up in a trailer park somewhere or do you want to ensure a future for it?”
There. She’d said it aloud, confirming my fears. There would be no help, no handouts, probably no mention of me again if I chose to raise my baby alone.