After Loss - A Billionaire Romance Novel (Romance, Billionaire Romance, Life After Love Book 2)

by Nancy Adams

  “I know how you feel,” she said in a bereft tone. “I’m currently sitting up in the bedroom. I was up here when you called. I feel like I can’t go downstairs. Can’t face having to keep up appearances with everyone. Hearing the same condolences from people I don’t even know.”

  Stephany let out a sigh.

  “I wish I could come and get you, Steph,” Sam said softly to her.

  “I wish you could too,” the old woman let out. “But I gotta go down there, paint on a smile and listen to all their bullshit for a while longer before I can be left alone with my husband and granddaughter to mourn my daughter in peace. Ever since she died two weeks ago the jackals have descended on us with relish. The media’s been camped outside our street night and day, bugging our neighbors, calling our friends up and asking questions. Since your crash it’s gone into overdrive.”

  “They’ll soon get bored and smell some new blood in the water,” Sam assured her. “It’s their latest tragedy to feed off. Today’s news is tomorrow’s recycling.”

  “I hope so, Sam. I hope so.”

  It wasn’t long after that that Sam was saying his goodbyes, promising to call later that night to wish Jess sweet dreams. Half an hour later, Karl was driving them across the airport runway toward the mono-black Learjet. Sam was glad to be getting out of there and his mind craved the isolation of the Cliff Face. He needed to rest his weary brain, and surrounding himself with people was the last thing he wanted.

  Feeling a massive relief, Sam boarded the plane and was soon heading back to Colorado and the sanctuary of the reserve.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A month had passed since Claire had resolved to have the child, and she was now back up in Maine at college. She was currently waiting in the corridor outside the associate dean Daria Parkin’s office. Her hands were instinctively laid across her abdomen. The changes occurring in her had increased lately, and she had become more and more conscious of the child growing inside of her. She’d returned to Maine three weeks before. Her mother had expected her to stay down in Colorado a little longer, but Claire had made the excuse that she wanted to get back to Maine early and be settled for the beginning of the year. This had soothed her mother to a point.

  However, since Claire had been in New England, June had called her every day, often several times, and her mother’s incessant calls were grinding on Claire a little. June Prior sensed something else, something beneath her daughter’s excuses, and it took Claire all her strength not to give in and tell her mother everything. The night before, June had called and asked her outright if everything was alright. On the spot Claire had told her mother that it was because of her experiences in the hospice that’d made her want to come up to Maine early. She said that it had all been a little too much and she wanted to get back to her college life as soon as possible, do her best to forget about the loss that she’d witnessed. This appeared to sate June’s worry, and Claire perceived an element of relief in her mother’s tone after that.

  She hoped that her mother would be satisfied for now. Because over the next seven to eight months, Claire would have to excuse herself from all direct contact with her family. She hadn’t even thought of how she’d avoid Christmas and Thanksgiving, traditional dates that would normally bring every student scuttling home.

  “Claire Prior?” called a voice nearby.

  Claire turned and saw that it was the associate dean hanging her head out of her office door. Claire smiled at her, before getting up and going into the office, where Daria instructed Claire to take a seat opposite her desk.

  Once she was seated, Daria looked over at Claire and said, “So what can I do for you?”

  “I’ll get straight to the point,” Claire began. “I’ve recently found out that I’m pregnant.”

  Claire instinctively frowned a little as she said this, the words feeling so odd in her mouth.

  “Something I sense you’re not too over the moon about,” Daria said, observing Claire’s look. “I take it you didn’t plan for this.”

  “Of course not. I was planning to come back to college and finish my degree before going off to medical school.”

  “That’s usually the plan for undergraduates,” Daria added. “So what do you plan on doing?”

  “I was planning on a termination, but at the last minute I decided against it.”

  “So you’re having the child then, and you’re sure on this?”

  “I am, yes,” Claire said firmly. “I don’t plan on raising the child. I’ve decided to place it up for adoption. However, I couldn’t bear the thought of terminating it.”

  “So what’s the next step?” the associate dean asked.

  “I need to take a year out.”

  “Have you considered staying on and going through the pregnancy side-by-side with your studies? Some girls do.”

  “No,” Claire answered curtly. “I can’t bear the thought of everyone looking at me. Plus, the birthdate is predicted for around the time we sit exams.”

  “We could postpone your examinations.”

  “No. I just can’t see myself coping with this and with trying to pass the year as well. Plus, I want as few people in the college as possible knowing about it. I don’t want everyone judging me when they see me pregnant one year and then without a child the next. They’ll want to know about it. They’ll keep reminding me of it all. I want to get this out the way and move on, continue with my life.”

  “That’s absolutely your choice Claire,” Daria said warmly. “Are you still with the father?”

  The question burned a mark upon Claire’s heart.

  “No,” she said, instinctively bowing her head.

  Daria’s face took on a benevolent expression and she felt bad for having asked.

  “Well,” she began, “you can be assured that you’ve got your year out. You don’t start classes until next week, so it shouldn’t be any issue pulling you out.”

  “Thank you,” Claire said, looking up from the floor and at the associate dean’s warm countenance.

  “You get this all sorted and we’ll see you next year. I take it you’re going back home to have the baby?”

  “No,” Claire answered. “I was going to get a little apartment here in town. You see, there’s something else I need to ask you.”

  Daria’s expression changed and she looked a little incredulously at Claire, wondering what else the girl needed of her.

  “I haven’t told my folks,” Claire went on. “And I’m not planning on telling them either. I love my mum dearly and this would hurt her so much, especially with me giving the child away. That’s why I’m staying up here in Maine. So that means that I need you to not send any mail regarding my year out to my home address, as well as not contact my Colorado residence at all during this time.”

  “I don’t understand,” Daria said, bemused. “You plan on keeping this away from them?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I just want it that way. It’s going to be hard, but I plan on doing it.”

  “How do you plan on explaining away an extra year of college?”

  “I’ll simply tell them that I failed the year.”

  “Wow! That’s almost as hard as telling them you’re pregnant!”

  “Almost—but not quite,” Claire added with a grin.

  “Well, I’ll make sure that nothing’s sent to your parents’ residence and I’ll have you signed off for the year. As this is a delicate and personal situation, none of your tutors will be told of the reason. Also, I’m obliged to inform you that the college offers its students free counseling on this sort of thing. If you ever need to talk to someone you can arrange a meeting with our on-campus team through the switchboard.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, you know the number. Anyway, if that was all, Claire, I wish you all the best with the pregnancy and look forward to seeing you back next year.”

  Daria got up from her desk and offered Claire her hand
.

  “Thank you,” Claire said once again as she got up and took the associate dean’s hand.

  Once they’d shaken hands, Daria walked Claire to the door and saw her out. As she left the office, Claire felt a cool breeze flow over her battered soul. Her sad face, which she had worn for the past month, began to slowly melt. Relief began to swallow up much of her earlier desolate feelings as she realized that one more problem had been dealt with. Walking off down the corridor, she even allowed the flitter of a smile to pass upon her lips.

  It was then that someone called her name out and she turned sharply to see who it was.

  Waving his hand at her was Paul Bishop, a friend of hers from college. The year before, when they had been studying for their yearly exams, Paul had been her study partner. He was a really sweet guy, good looking too, and Claire had often pondered the thought of starting a relationship with him. It was clear that he was keen on her, and it had gotten back to her on more than one occasion from the other students that he often talked about her in glowing terms. But their friendship had grown too strong before she had begun to even consider the possibility of things developing romantically. And this meant she didn’t want to risk damaging their friendship by complicating it.

  “I wondered where you’d been hiding,” Paul said as he came up to her. “Some of the guys said they’d seen you around. I tried your phone, but it was switched off.”

  “Yeah,” Claire replied, “I lost it and had to get another. I’ll give you my new number.”

  This, of course, was a lie. She hadn’t lost it. Scared of contact with Sam, she’d changed her number.

  “What’re you doing now?” Paul enquired. “I noticed you coming out of Dean Parkin’s office.”

  “Well, aren’t you the snooty one,” Claire retorted playfully.

  Paul grinned broadly.

  “I just happened to be looking that way,” he said, “and you just happened to walk out. And when I saw you, I thought to myself that having not seen you for nearly three months, it would be nice to catch up with my old pal Claire Prior. You wanna grab a coffee and catch up, or would you prefer to do it here in the hallway?”

  Claire blushed slightly. He could be so intense sometimes, and there was a sincerity to this intensity that Claire admired in him.

  “I think I choose A,” she let out. “Coffee.”

  “Coffee it is.”

  A brisk walk out of the college grounds and around the corner took the pair to a small, family-owned coffee shop called The Little Dog that was popular among the students. The building was old, built during the colonial days, and inside, it had many little alcoves where you could find a quiet little booth to hide in. On the way there, the two didn’t speak at all, even though they’d not seen each other for so long. But it was a comfortable silence and both of them knew that whatever they had to talk about could wait until they reached The Little Dog.

  As far as men went, Paul was probably the one whose company Claire felt most comfortable in, and seeing him in the hallway had been a pleasant surprise, rather than an unpleasant encounter, as she would have found it if she had bumped into most of the people she knew at college.

  Strolling inside the coffee shop they found a nice little alcove at the back and Claire settled herself down while Paul offered to go order the coffees.

  “What you having?” he asked.

  “Just a chamomile tea.”

  “A chamomile tea?! Are you detoxing? When we were studying last year, you were a caffeine junky!”

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little detox,” she said with a twinkling smile.

  Paul looked at her with a slight bewilderment.

  “I guess I should try that some time,” he remarked, before leaving to fetch the drinks.

  Within a minute or two, he’d returned and the two sat snuggly in the sheltered booth of the alcove opposite one another, hidden away from the world, just the two of them.

  “S-o-o,” Paul let out slowly once he was seated, “what was volunteering in a hospice like?”

  “Well,” Claire began, “as you can imagine, it was a very mixed experience watching people die, or watching as they tried one last treatment, before being told that this last hope had evaporated and they were due to die anyway.”

  “Must’ve been hard.”

  “How was working with your dad for the summer?” Claire asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from the hospice.

  Paul opened his eyes wide and said joyfully, “That was hard too! Father and son working together in his small-town surgery. Having my father correct me on practically everything I did. Then going home at night and having to have him correct me on everything I do there too. It was like a never-ending, spiraling purgatory! I spent most of the time seeing to old men and their prostates. Old ladies and their bunions. It was mercilessly boring, but it kept the old man happy; having me there beside him. I guess it made him proud. But, anyway, it was nothing on you. I mean, being in the same hospice as Marya Burgess. In fact, where she died. Did you get to meet her? Did you see Burgess himself? What was—”

  But Claire heard nothing of this last part. Her mind had gone blank at the mere mention of Marya’s name, and Paul’s voice began to dissolve into a murmur. She felt her heart sink as so many feelings came flooding back. A terrible shame began to riddle her body and she clutched her stomach, feeling the presence of the pregnancy even more.

  “Are you okay?” Paul suddenly asked, breaking into his own speech.

  He’d noticed how pale she’d turned and how she was shivering.

  “Was it something I said?” he wanted to know.

  “No,” Claire muttered, her eyes going blank as they gazed down at the table.

  “You’ve gone as white as a sheet. Do you want me to get you some water?”

  He got up to go fetch her some, but as he rose, Claire grabbed his arm and told him to sit back down, that she was alright and that it was only a momentary turn. Looking worriedly down at her, Paul eventually sat himself back down.

  “I’ll be okay in a second,” she mumbled once he was seated. “I haven’t been well lately.”

  “Is that why you were in the associate dean’s office?”

  Claire gave a withered grin.

  “Okay, smart ass!” Claire said.

  “Oh! You’re feeling much better then,” he let out gently. “Back to the jibes. So, anyway, you gonna tell me?”

  “I shouldn’t,” Claire said with a groan.

  “Hey!” Paul said flinging his arms up. “We’re friends right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I got your back, right?”

  “Well, I guess,” she uttered, not sure what having her back actually meant.

  “So then surely you can tell me. If it’s a secret, I won’t tell anyone. You know you can trust me. Remember last year when you confessed to me that it was you who’d vomited in Sophie Ridley’s bed at the frat party?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, have I ever ratted you out? Even though that rich bitch Ridley was offering five hundred dollars’ reward for anyone that led her to the culprit?”

  Claire grinned and said, “Yeah, that was pretty funny. She blew a gasket because her parents had just spent over a thousand dollars on Egyptian cotton sheets and silk bedspreads and my punch and anchovy pizza-induced vomit stained it all!”

  The two began laughing.

  “You destroyed her whole bed,” Paul giggled. “They apparently had to get rid of it. And then even the carpet stunk of fish, vodka and puke! So they had to strip the whole place! Apparently if you go in her room, you can still smell it!”

  “Man, she was pissed!”

  “But anyway,” Paul said, controlling his laughter and taking on a more solemn tone, “the point is that you can trust me, Claire. The moment I saw you walk out of the dean’s office, I guessed something was up by the way you looked. Plus, the way you went really pale a moment ago makes me think that something must be up. So what is it?”
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  Claire gazed at him for a moment. There was such solemnity in his eyes and he appeared genuinely concerned for her. When Claire had considered the fact that she would go through the pregnancy here in Maine all on her own, she had felt a little cold at the thought. Her mother didn’t know, and Beth was all the way back in Denver with Will, trying to get on with her own life. Claire, as already mentioned, possessed a singular mind and didn’t feel the need for the support of others like most of us do. She’d learned to deal with her problems on her own from an early age. However, being up here in Maine all on her own with no one around her, no support, filled her with fear and a bitterly cold loneliness. It was this that made Claire look Paul straight in the eyes and confess.

  “I’m pregnant,” she let out in a hollow voice.

  Paul’s face initially took on a look of utter surprise. But this quickly suffused into one of the sweetest benevolence.

  “Oh, Claire,” Paul said softly. “So what’s next?”

  “I considered abortion,” she replied. “But I couldn’t go through with it. So I’ve decided to have it.”

  “And what about college?”

  “I’ve been given a year out.”

  “So you’re heading back to Colorado then?” Paul enquired, a look of disappointment on his soft face.

  “No, I’m going to remain here in Maine.”

  A smile quickly climbed up Paul’s face.

  “Then I can help you,” he said sweetly.

  This had the effect of making Claire beam a little grin at him.

  “You mean that?” she asked.

  “Of course. I could be a surrogate uncle. That is, of course, unless the dad will be bothered.”

  “The dad doesn’t want to know,” Claire lied.

  Paul’s face took on a look of anger.

  “What kind of asshole is this guy?” he asked indignantly.

  “An asshole; that’s all you need to know.”