by Karina Bliss
“Call in sick. We’re meeting later today.” His expression hardened. “Because whatever you decide about marriage, Pip, let’s be very clear. Even if it doesn’t carry my name, our child will know its father.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I DID SOME RESEARCH,” said Joe. He and Pip sat at a window table at Nordstrom’s Café Bistro seven hours after he’d left her apartment. Four floors below, two opposing streams of midweek shoppers struggled against each other, their umbrellas a bright canopy of colors as they clustered at intersections. Christmas was still over five weeks away, but already there was a slightly manic quality to the bustle.
Up here the atmosphere was peaceful, civilized…precisely why he’d chosen this restaurant. “With you being a foreigner—”
“Alien,” she interrupted.
She still looked tired, wan. Yesterday he would have leaned over and kissed the slight furrow between her brow. Today Joe kept his hands—and his lips—to himself.
“That’s your immigration department’s official term for me. And if we marry we apply for something called ‘extended parole’ on my visa.” As she spoke she dipped her sourdough bread into the pale green, creamy asparagus soup, looked at it, then put the bread down. It made a little green puddle on the white plate. “The baby will still be eligible for U.S. citizenship through you as its father if we’re not married.”
“I don’t want my child born outside of marriage.” There had been enough of that in his family to last a lifetime.
“Better out of wedlock than having its parents in jail because they’re lying to their governments,” Pip retorted. “If you’ve done your research you’ll know we have to convince immigration of both countries that our marriage is real.”
“I think the baby will help,” stated Joe drily.
“When it comes right down to it,” she said, “we’re only looking for short stints in each other’s country, so visitor visas are fine.” She picked up the bread but didn’t eat it. “We don’t need to get married.”
“You don’t want that, do you?” he asked.
“I thought I did, but now it’s here…” She shrugged and took a sip of her Earl Grey tea. “I guess this odd appetite is normal.”
Joe heard her uncertainty and gave her the reassurance he’d been unable to last night when he’d been too angry, too devastated, to appreciate Pip’s feelings. “It’s normal.”
He’d told her he wasn’t the enemy, but his actions hadn’t backed that up. He needed to redress that, to convince her that marriage was their best option. To convince her to stay until the baby was born.
“Try some of this.” He handed over the remaining half of his steak-and-blue-cheese sandwich, and she took a tentative bite.
Her eyes closed. “Oh, yeah, that’s good.”
Her brown eyelashes were gold at the base, like her hair. He brushed the tips gently with his thumb and Pip’s eyes opened warily. “I wonder whose coloring our child will have,” he said.
Her face relaxed into a tentative smile. “Is now the time to tell you red hair runs in my family?”
“Uncle Daniel has auburn hair. He used to beat up anyone who called it red. He can teach the kid to fight.”
Pip stopped smiling, put down the sandwich. “You keep assuming that I’m going to stay.”
“Until the baby’s born and we’ve sorted out all the paperwork, yeah.” Joe leaned forward to stress his point. “It makes sense. And marriage is the only way you’ll get an extension on your visa.”
“I think it makes more sense for the baby to be born in the country where it’ll be living.” Her gaze was level, but there was an angry flush in her cheeks. “It will take a year, even two, to get the marriage recognized as legit, and that would involve living together. I’m not making a life here simply for your convenience, Joe.”
Frowning, he sat back. “What about the baby’s need for a father?”
“Our child will have grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins—a loving extended family to compensate for a father living abroad.” When he started to protest she overrode him. “Even if I stayed here, once we were able to divorce you’d only be visiting weekly, anyway.”
“That’s not true. Kaitlin and I see more of each other than that now.” Thanks to you. But Joe couldn’t afford to give her an advantage in these negotiations. “And don’t forget Kaitlin when you’re toting up relatives. Our baby has a sister, uncles, aunts, cousins and a grandparent in the States, too, remember.”
“Oh, so now your family’s close, now when it suits you.” Pip threw down her napkin. “Here’s an idea. Move to New Zealand. Then you can see the baby as much as you like….” He made a gesture of dismissal. “No? Not so easy when the rugby boot’s on the gridiron foot, is it?”
Joe kept shaking his head. “Our situations are entirely different,” he argued. Surely she could see that? “For a start, you’ve lived here for nearly fourteen months. The States is already a second home.”
When she opened her mouth to speak, he overrode her, but pitched his tone low and reasonable. “You have friends and a transferable job skill. I know nothing about commercial real estate in New Zealand, and even if I did, my industry’s built on personal contacts. To start from scratch? No, Pip. Not with two kids to support.”
Her set expression was wavering, so he produced his ace in the hole. “And how would living on the other side of the world work with Kaitlin?”
There was a short silence. “It wouldn’t,” she conceded, “not if you want to see her more than three times a year.” They both knew Kaitlin needed more than that from him, at least for the next few years. “But you’ll be living on the other side of the world from one of your children, Joe, because I’m going home.” Picking up her napkin, Pip laid it over the remains of the sandwich, her appetite obviously gone. “Unlike Nadia, I don’t hold any hope of making you love me, you see.”
They both realized at the same time what she’d implied. Joe’s mouth went dry. “You sound like you want me to.”
“You misunderstood me.” His gaze followed the blush as it swept across her face, down her neck, into the V of her blouse. “We were never about love.”
“Which is exactly why I ended it when I did.” Now he’d revealed more than he wanted to.
“Are you saying you’d begun to have feelings for me?” There was something disquieting threaded through her skepticism. Alarm kicked in as Joe recognized it. Hope.
He didn’t raise hopes, particularly in himself. “What guy wouldn’t?” Joe sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “You’re beautiful, funny, intelligent, sexy as hell, and your leaving has given our relationship an urgency, even an emotional component it might not otherwise have had.”
As he spoke a range of expressions crossed her face, ending in a penetrating look that made him feel exposed. “I suppose I should be grateful you said ‘might not otherwise have had,’ rather than wouldn’t otherwise have had.”
“I’m trying to be sensitive to your feelings.”
Pip did the last thing Joe expected. She laughed.
At the next table, two elderly women glanced over and smiled. He could read their thoughts. Young love.
“It’s hard to imagine an admission of affection couched in more unflattering terms, but go ahead.” Pip leaned forward and cupped her chin in her hand. “Tell me what you would have said if you weren’t being sensitive.”
He was at a loss as to why she found this uncomfortable conversation remotely funny. “You’ve made your point, Pip.” It seemed very important suddenly that he make his. “Still on semantics, I’m glad you recognize it as an admission of affection and not a declaration.”
Deliberately, he adopted the language of commerce. “What I’m proposing is simply a one- to two-year business partnership to facilitate custody access and ensure our child has the citizenship of both countries.”
Pip uncovered the steak sandwich, picked it up and bit into it. “So this sham marriage…” Her pink tongue fl
icked out to catch a crumb at the side of her mouth. “Would we still have sex, Joe?”
As if she knew she’d just given him a hard-on. “I haven’t thought—”
“Because your burgeoning feelings might complicate things.”
He stared at her through narrowed eyes. “This isn’t a joke, Pip.”
“I’m sorry, but don’t you realize you’re denying the one thing that would make me consider staying? That you actually care about me?”
Joe balked. “Let’s not muddy the waters by pretending sex is going to carry us through this. We’ve been living outside the real world, not in it. Would these feelings last when we’re renting some dive with a newborn, juggling family issues on both sides, and you’re resenting me because I’m making you live permanently away from your home and family? Nadia and I started with better odds than that.”
Pip put down the remains of the sandwich yet again, her momentary elation deflated. Having three older brothers made her an expert in translating guyspeak and it was very clear to her—if not to Joe—that he was halfway in love with her and terrified. That was the good part.
The bad part was that she, too, was grappling with feelings she had no experience of. For all she knew, Joe could be right. This might just be sex. And even if it wasn’t, love might not be enough to overcome all their other problems. But there was only one way to find out.
“I’m prepared to test a marriage…situation,” she said. “You move into my apartment, I meet the rest of your oh-so-close family and in three weeks we’ll review.” He nodded, triumphant. “But I make no promises, Joe,” she warned. “And in the meantime my pregnancy stays a secret. This is something you and I resolve without outside pressure.”
“My family knows not to interfere in my life.”
“I’m warming to them already,” she said. “Unfortunately, mine don’t.”
Living together might not resolve his feelings, but it would resolve hers. Which was a risky strategy if it turned out she really loved him. But she knew only one thing for sure. If he loved her, nothing would keep them apart. If he didn’t, then nothing would keep them together.
ON FRIDAY NIGHT, suitcase in hand, Joe knocked on the door of Pip’s tiny apartment.
She opened it with the phone pressed to her ear, face averted. Her smile was brief and unconvincing. “I’m talking to Mum, make yourself at home.” Disappearing into the bedroom, she closed the door.
There were tearstains on her cheeks.
Oh, God, what have we done? Joe hardened his heart. So Pip was homesick. Well, so was he—homesick for the way things were before she’d told him she was pregnant.
Walking into the living room, he groaned aloud. They hadn’t spent much time at Pip’s place, by unspoken agreement sticking to the neutral ground of Joe’s hotel room. And in the shock of her pregnancy, he hadn’t noticed a damn thing last time he was here.
Now he felt as if he was standing in enemy territory, and not just because he was wary of Pip’s uncanny ability to shift the ground under his feet. He’d committed to living in a fairy bower for three weeks.
The one-bedroom, open plan kitchen/dining/living room apartment in western North Beach nudged the base of Russian Hill, a stone’s throw from Chinatown. It had come as part of the teacher exchange deal and been furnished by someone misguided enough to think the building’s pink exterior was a good idea inside, too.
Kaitlin had adored what she called the pink palace on sight; Joe had got them out of the building as soon as possible. It reminded him too much of the pastel-painted houses of his Sunset District childhood. Girlie cute.
He dropped his suitcase on the salmon-pink floral rug, then gingerly laid his briefcase and Blackberry on the spindle-legged rosewood table. Amazingly, it held. The sooner he could convince Pip to marry him, the sooner they could start searching for another apartment and bring all his stuff out of storage. Though waiting enabled him to pull in a few more deals.
Loosening his tie, he sank onto the fuchsia couch and checked his phone messages.
Two from Sam’s lawyer, asking Mr. Fraser to get in touch as a matter of “increasing urgency.” Up until this week Sam had been silent, no doubt rebuilding his rightful-ownership case for a different foe and unaware that the necklace would soon be returned to Aunt Jenny.
With a grim smile Joe deleted the lawyer’s messages, then rang his cousin Belle to invite her and Matt to a Thanksgiving lunch. Stage one of his campaign to convince Pip to marry him.
Everyone he’d called so far had said yes, but Joe didn’t kid himself that his family’s universal acceptance was driven by anything other than avid curiosity. Even Nadia and Doug had muscled in on his invitation to Kaitlin.
“Sure, Matt and I will be there,” Belle said when he told her the reason for his call. “I’m just glad this business with Dad hasn’t affected your willingness to see me.”
“You’re not responsible for your father’s behavior.” How many times had Joe told himself that over the years?
Belle was silent for a moment. “I’m worried about him, Joe. Last week when I visited…” She stopped herself. “It’s not your problem.”
“Talk to me.”
“I caught Dad drinking in the middle of the day. That’s something he’d never normally do.”
Joe recalled the smell of stale alcohol when Sam had visited Adam in hospital. So it hadn’t been a one-off. “You want me to stop this charade?” he offered.
“No. It’s not over the necklace, it’s over Mom. And frankly, the only thing that’s going to make a difference is a change in attitude. I told him that. Anyway, let’s talk about Thanksgiving lunch. Where is it?”
Joe gave her the restaurant’s address and hung up, frowning. This was the only part of his genius idea to backfire. Good restaurants had been booked out for weeks and he’d been forced to settle for a third-class eatery in a suburban mall in Palo Alto. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Opening his briefcase, Joe unearthed the box of Ghirardelli chocolates. They were Pip’s favorite, and a peace offering for arriving at eight when he’d told her he’d be here before six.
As he sat on the girlie couch, clutching the chocolates and waiting for her to reappear, he felt as nervous as a teenager waiting for his prom date. How had it come to this?
His cell phone vibrated; Joe checked caller ID, then picked up with relief. “Daniel.”
“I got your message. I thought I made it clear that the last family outing was a once-only.”
“The last one was for Adam’s sake. This one’s for mine.”
Daniel swore. “Don’t do this to me.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Joe gave him the pertinent details, leaving out the pregnancy. “You don’t have to stay long, just be charming while you’re there.”
“Are you in love with this woman?”
“Define love,” Joe hedged.
“You’re asking me?”
Joe grinned, then, catching movement in his peripheral vision, said in a low voice, “So you’ll be there, and you’ll be charming?”
“Don’t push it,” said Daniel, and hung up.
“DEFINE LOVE.” Pip entered the living room in time to hear Joe say that and see him grin. Having lied to her mother that yes, everything was fine, Pip was in no mood for whatever sexual spin the caller had put on his response to elicit such a very male grin. Obviously a guy.
I can define love. How I feel about you. “Who was that?” she asked when he ended the call.
“My uncle, Daniel. I’ve organized a Thanksgiving lunch to introduce you to the rest of my family.”
Immediately, Pip cheered up. “Then here’s an insider’s tip. Coming home late isn’t a great start to convincing me that I won’t be isolated with a new baby if I marry you.”
“You’re right, I should have called. I got delayed because the deal I’ve been relying on finally came back into play.”
Pip forgot the lasagna drying out in the oven. “Joe, that’s great.”
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br /> He stood and handed her a box of Ghirardelli chocolates. “If I work hard now, by the time the baby’s born I’ll be a position to cut back my hours.”
“You have nine months to do that, Joe, but I only have three weeks to decide whether I’m marrying you for the baby’s sake. You kinda need to be here during that time.” Pip tried to keep the comment light, but her new insecurity made the words clunky and cudgel-like.
This was no longer a game. The stakes were high for both of them and she was dealing with two new and frightening experiences—being in love and being pregnant.
His expression hardened. “So if I’m not at your beck and call the decision might not go my way? That sounds like emotional blackmail.”
“Only if you want to be paranoid and defensive,” she snapped, feeling hormonal and on edge.
“I’m not—” Joe stopped himself. “This pregnancy’s tough on both of us.”
“I don’t see you hanging over the toilet every night or telling your family how great it will be to see them at Christmas, when you might not be—” To Pip’s horror, tears came to her eyes. This was the latest side effect of pregnancy. “Excuse me.” Head down, she walked past him to the bathroom.
“Come here,” Joe said gently, but Pip only shook her head and kept walking. Calling her mum had been a bad idea. As soon as she’d heard Kathleen’s chuckle, Pip had started to cry, and then she couldn’t stop. “I just miss you, that’s all,” she’d sobbed.
“Well, not long now and you’ll be home.”
In the coral-tiled bathroom, Pip rinsed her face with cold water, braced herself and went back out.
Joe was standing in the living room, his shoulders slumped. When he heard her, he straightened up and smiled. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
Now she didn’t know if he really meant it or if he was responding to her so-called emotional blackmail. And she couldn’t ask him because the answer might hurt.
“Are you hungry? I made dinner.”
“I picked up a burger on the way here. I’m not expecting you to cook for me every night.”