The Baby Bargain

by Layla Valentine

  Now, to find myself mourning Ashton’s absence as though it were a personal affront…well, let’s just say I wasn’t ready to wrestle with this new development in my feelings. Too soon, I thought. Much too soon.

  I inhaled slowly through my nose, then exhaled through my mouth, giving me just enough energy to scoot over to the nearest bedside table in hopes of checking the time. My phone…where was it? I struggled to remember the parts of last night that didn’t include me naked atop Ashton. Turned out, my memory was pretty selective.

  At last, having wracked my brain, I realized that my cell must be in the kitchen. I pushed myself up to a seated position and allowed my feet to touch the bare hardwood floors, finding them to be the perfect temperature.

  Next, there was the matter of finding clothes—it was entirely possible that Ashton had a housekeeper or two on retainer, and I wouldn’t want to shock some innocent woman with the sight of my naked body.

  I padded across the floor and flung open the doors of what I believed to be Ashton’s closet, revealing a walk-in the size of my entire apartment. Inside were rows upon rows of perfectly pressed suits, as well as in-home suit steamer, which I didn’t even know was a thing up until that moment. The reminder of Ashton’s obscene wealth made me feel more than a little self-conscious.

  I opened a nearby drawer, figuring that his more casual items would be folded away. Sure enough, I found a pajama top that would do the trick. Okay, it was a pure silk top with a monogrammed breast pocket, but that was about as casual as his closet seemed to get. I drew the soft, inviting garment around my body, and spared a glance in one of the full-length mirrors, noting that there was an after-sex glow haloing my entire figure.

  With a satisfied smile plastered across my face, I turned off the closet lights and exited, shutting the door behind me. Remembering the path from last night, I traced my way from bedroom to kitchen, where I saw that my fears about surprising the maids had been unfounded; on the contrary, both of our clothes were still spread out across the entire room as if a mini hurricane had swept through and only alighted upon scraps of fabric.

  “Damn, we did some damage,” I said aloud.

  I was about to commence searching for my phone in the piles of clothes when I noticed a glass vase with a single rosebud sitting on the kitchen island. Leaning against the vase was a cream-colored envelope.

  That wasn’t there last night, I thought.

  Hesitantly, I inched my way to the island, where I found my name scrawled in excellent cursive across the envelope.

  Could it be that Ashton Swann was such a romantic? Every moment I’d spent with him—or, at least, in his privately cultivated space—had convinced me that his formidable reputation was unfounded. With a pang, I reflected on how hard it must be to have your entire personality so drastically misinterpreted by journalists the world over.

  I carefully opened the envelope, afraid to mar something so perfect. Inside, I found a note on matching cardstock, with Ashton’s initials embossed in silver on the top.

  Harley,

  I had a wonderful time last night. Words cannot account for the experience we had, so I shall leave it at that.

  I’m sorry for leaving you so abruptly. I didn’t want to wake you with my departure, but I was called into the office and you looked too peaceful to rouse. In my absence, please feel free to stay as long as you like—what’s mine is yours, the house included.

  There’s one more thing—I have to head to the Bahamas next week, as I’m to speak at a conference there. I hope this isn’t too presumptive, but would you and Levi be interested in coming as my guests?

  Think it over—if you aren’t able to join me, I understand completely. In any case, let me know your answer soon.

  Until then, I’ll be thinking about you and you alone throughout these dull and dreary meetings.

  Ashton

  My heart skipped one beat, then another. The Bahamas? With my hunky boss and my baby?!

  I had to contact Ashton, and stat. There was no way his card was serious…right?

  Flinging the card down on the countertop, I went rooting through the pile of clothes, at last locating my phone. My hands shook as I dialed Ashton’s number. What would I find on the other end of the line?

  I pressed the phone to my ear, and stared at the rose as I listened to the dial tone. He picked up within moments.

  “Good morning,” he said smoothly.

  Forgoing niceties, I asked, “Ashton, were you serious?”

  He didn’t need a glossary to understand my meaning. “Yes.”

  “About the Bahamas, and me, and even Levi—”

  “Again, yes.”

  I went silent as his offer finally sank in.

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I replied quickly. “I’m still here.”

  “If you’d like to come along, I can pick you and Levi up on Monday morning.”

  “As in, two days from now?”

  “Yes.”

  “But what about work? I don’t have many paid vacation days left.”

  I heard a low chuckle on the other end of the line, and Ashton responded, “Well, luckily, you’re on good terms with one of the higher-ups.”

  In my dazed state, I dumbly queried, “Who?”

  “Um…”

  “Oh, right, of course,” I said, catching up. “Sorry, this is all just so much, so unexpected.”

  “You’re not required to say yes; you know that, right? I hope that the card made it clear I don’t expect anything from you.”

  “I understand.” I hesitated. “And you’re sure Levi can come?”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “In that case…yes. I—we—would be thrilled to come with you. I could use a break from the real world.”

  He laughed and replied, “You and me both. And what better place to have one than in tropical paradise?”

  Chapter 11

  Harley

  Despite having had the whole weekend to pack, I waited until the very last minute. I think some part of me was either trying to sabotage the trip, assuming I didn’t deserve it, or believing Ashton’s inviting me had all been a dream. In any case, Monday rolled around, and I’d done nothing to prepare for leaving the country.

  And so, I was up at five in the morning, frantically throwing stuff into suitcases and trying not to disturb Levi’s slumber in the process. I packed his suitcase first—baby suntan lotion, a tiny bucket hat, plenty of changes of clothes…then I looked at the clock. Shit. Ashton was due to arrive in fifteen minutes.

  My legs moved faster than my mind, taking me to each corner of the apartment to grab my assorted junk for the trip. Bikinis, cover-ups, sandals, some nice dresses and heels—I threw it all in. Ashton had neglected to be specific as to exactly what we’d be doing on the island, so I essentially threw everything I owned into one large suitcase and hoped for the best.

  There was just enough time to wake Levi up, change his diaper, and give him a bottle before my doorbell rang. I wiped the sweat off my brow and clicked the buzzer.

  “Just a minute!” I said into the intercom.

  A voice replied, “Ms. Phillips, this is Benjamin, Mr. Swann’s driver. May I come upstairs and assist you with your luggage?”

  “Oh, God, yes. Much needed, thanks.”

  I pressed the button that allowed him access, and in a short time, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find a white-mustached man wearing a black suit, starched shirt, and black chauffeur’s cap.

  “Hi,” I said, and moved from the door to Levi’s chair. “Come in.”

  Too distracted with the baby, I didn’t have time to feel awkward about Benjamin’s impression of my messy apartment.

  In a dry voice, he asked, “Where might I find the baggage, Ms. Phillips?”

  “Right there,” I gestured with one arm, the other being occupied by Levi’s small body. “Behind the sofa.”

  “Ah, yes, found th
em.” He hefted the suitcases into his palms with a rather remarkable ease for his advanced years. “Are you ready?”

  I looked at Levi, who was snuggled happily in my arms. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Benjamin nodded and led the procession out of the apartment. We were down by the car in no time. I noted that it was a different vehicle than Ashton had picked me up in a few nights ago; he’d arrived today in a large, fully blacked-out SUV that looked secure enough to escort the president.

  The driver opened the door for me, then proceeded to busy himself in the back, loading up the car and such. From within the car, I saw Ashton’s muscular form cast in shadows. We might have been on our way to a tropical destination, but he was still clad in his customary suit and tie, the only small deviation from the norm being the aviator sunglasses that were perched on his nose.

  “Good morning, Harley,” he said, then, with a grin, “and good morning, little Levi.”

  I looked into the center of the car, and realized that Ashton had already put a Swann Innovations car seat in place. This man thought of everything.

  I chatted with Ashton as I buckled Levi up into the seat, then climbed in after him. Shortly thereafter, we were all loaded up and ready to depart. Benjamin took his place in the driver’s seat, and Ashton gave him the “go” signal.

  “Are you excited?” Ashton asked.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Are you joking?”

  He laughed. “Okay, fair enough.”

  The airport was only a short drive from my house, so we arrived within minutes.

  “Do you have our boarding passes?” I asked Ashton.

  “Oh, didn’t I mention? We’re not flying commercial.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” he clarified, “we’re going on my private jet.”

  Sure enough, Benjamin was pulling the car around past the normal drop-off area, and through a set of gates onto a secluded section of the runway. The black SUV rolled to a stop directly in front of a small plane, whose side was covered in the Swann Innovations logo.

  “Wow,” I said under my breath. “I kind of thought you were kidding about the jet.”

  Ashton just rolled his eyes and grinned.

  A metal staircase was rolled up to the jet, and he offered to carry Levi inside, as the steps were a bit tricky to maneuver. I took a deep breath, and reminded myself that if I was going to spend the next few days with Ashton, I needed to display some trust. Hoping my reservation wasn’t too visible, I passed Levi into his arms.

  Ashton smiled and held my boy aloft, making a face at him. He seemed so intent on making Levi like him (not that that was an issue). It was nice to find a man that didn’t want to pretend I was childless, but actually wished to engage with my son, the most important person in my life.

  The boys boarded the plane, and I followed suit. What I found inside was an opulence that stood in direct contrast to Ashton’s usual style; while he was a man of dark colors, clean lines, and understated glamour, the jet was all about showing off.

  The seats were a creamy, light brown leather, and were scattered around as though it were a lounge, not a plane. The area could easily hold ten passengers, maybe more. The details were in gold, and there was a textured dark red lacquer encasing the cup holders and foot rests.

  Ashton watched me take in the plane, then apologized bashfully, “I know, it’s a lot. Wasn’t my choice—the board said we needed something to impress investors with. I didn’t get it, but whatever.”

  Once more, I could see that he had a very different idea of his company than the people who ran it with him: while he wanted to maximize efficiency and inventiveness, they wanted to show off as much as possible. No wonder the two opponents so often butted heads. I was beginning to get an idea as to where all of those rumors about Ashton had originated.

  We buckled in for takeoff. Moments later, after a stewardess had ensured we didn’t want any drinks, the plane roared alive. The pilot came through on the overhead, saying it was clear skies ahead, and we took off.

  I wish I could say that Ashton and I talked the entire flight, but I fell asleep the moment the plane took off. After all, I had woken up at five in the morning to pack and take care of a baby. There would be plenty of time to chat in the Bahamas.

  A hand gently tapped on my shoulder, and I awoke blearily.

  “What, what is it?” I grumbled.

  “We’re here,” a voice said softly. “Rise and shine, princess.”

  I jolted up with a start, and looked around. “Where?”

  “The Bahamas.” Ashton was staring at me, and I realized the hand and voice had belonged to him. “Or did you forget?”

  “I thought it had been a dream.”

  “I guess that would make sense,” he replied. “You were asleep for six hours, after all.”

  A hand flew to my mouth. “Seriously? Oh, man, that’s embarrassing.”

  “Don’t worry about it; I had to get some work done, anyway,” he reassured me.

  “But what about Levi—is he okay?” I asked, then sat up further to look around for my son.

  Ashton shifted, and revealed that Levi was seated on his lap.

  “I changed his diaper about midway through the flight,” Ashton explained. “Hope it’s okay; I grabbed the stuff from your baby bag.”

  “You…know how to change a diaper?” I questioned, openly incredulous. “But you don’t have kids.”

  “Harley, you seem to be struggling to grasp this, but I do run a parenting technology company. I have, as a matter of fact, been around children before.”

  I blushed. “Right, of course.”

  He bopped Levi’s nose with his finger. “I want some of my own, someday.”

  Before I could dive deeper into Ashton’s daddy dreams, the pilot informed us that our bags had been loaded into a car that was ready to escort us to the hotel. We nodded, and Ashton carried my son off the plane.

  The ride between the airport and hotel was brief, and soon, we were rounding the long driveway of what appeared to be a boutique hotel. Palm trees lined the road, and the sun shone brightly overhead.

  The hotel was quaint, almost like a tropical escape built in the 1930s for starlets looking to evade the paparazzi. White wood defined the space, with light pastel accents on the crown moldings and windowsills. The hotel—the Roc de Garre, as I read on a nearby discreet sign—was airy, and smelled of jasmine. And, more than anything else, I thought that the hotel rather suited Ashton.

  That is, it wasn’t too ostentatious, or bedecked in gold and glitz. No, its luxury showed in its general good taste and gentle minimalism. There was no noise except for the sound in the distance of a lapping ocean and chirping birds. Instantly, I felt the knots in my back begin to dissipate.

  Ashton quickly sorted things out with the receptionist, who offered to personally escort us to our rooms. Was that a plural?

  We walked down a series of open-air hallways; I hadn’t yet grasped the layout of the hotel, but I knew that the view was spectacular and I didn’t care about the rest. After the trek, we arrived at two enormous doors. The small brass plaque read “Epistol Suite.”

  “What does that mean?” I whispered to Ashton, pointing at the plaque.

  “I think it’s French for ‘fancy,’” he joked.

  I giggled under my breath, and the receptionist handed each of us (minus Levi) a brass key.

  “Please contact me if you need anything,” she said in an accent I couldn’t quite place. “Until then, goodbye.”

  She swiveled around on her wedge sandals—very tropical, I thought—and strode off.

  “Shall we?” I asked Ashton, who was still carrying Levi.

  He nodded, and used his free hand to stick the key into the door and turn the lock. He pushed the door inwards, and immediately, the aroma of fresh strawberries filled my nose.

  The room was—God, where do I begin? It was magnificent.

  The floors were made of bleached teak, and the main
room was covered in a baby pink and light gold wallpaper, which highlighted the massive space. There were a couple of handwoven patchwork rugs in various shades of light blue thrown lazily across the floor. The sofas and chairs were all white with pink-and-blue accent pillows, and gauzy white curtains hung from massive windows that led out into a private backyard, which boasted a full-sized pool and hot tub.

  My head was spinning. Had I stepped out of my reality, and into someone else’s? Moments ago, I’d been a single, working mom who was down on her luck and running low on funds. Now, I was on the arm of a billionaire, accompanying him to a glamorous tropical island, no apparent cares in the world. I was thrilled, to put it mildly, but a part of me—that motherly, untrusting part—kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely, life couldn’t just be this magical, right?

  I shook my head free of those pessimistic thoughts as I watched Ashton inspect the space.

  “Well, everything looks okay,” he noted casually.

  “Um, everything looks amazing,” I corrected.

  The bellhop arrived and I smiled internally as Ashton awarded him an enormous tip. His over-tipping was never going to lose its shine for me.

  As soon as the boy departed, Ashton turned to me and said, “Listen, I have to head off to this conference. I guess I’ll be ad-libbing the speech part.”

  “You didn’t prepare something?” I asked, surprised.

  He shrugged. “Nah, figured I’d wing it.”

  “Do you always wing things?” I asked, then quickly added, “I don’t mean to pry; I’m just curious is all.”

  He grinned. “No, I understand. And…no, not usually. But when I’m with you, I guess I feel compelled to be freer. To think less about work, and more about…” He trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence.

  I nodded, afraid that if I pushed him further, he’d throw up his barriers.