Eclipse of the Heart

by Carly Carson

  "So do you!"

  "Shhh…" Amanda took a quick glance around, but she and Rosie were surrounded by empty tables. "I know he's a grade A jerk, but I need my job back and you need to keep yours."

  "Hmph!" Rosie pouted. "That man has too much power. Even for someone who looks like he does."

  "Let's deal with the problem we need to solve." Amanda shoved aside memories of Logan in his various guises – polished and handsome in a tux, tough and competent in rolled shirt sleeves and tailored wool slacks, and, best of all, heaving and sweaty over her in bed. Those days were gone. She bent her attention on Rosie. "When and why did Phoebe get fired?"

  "A few weeks back," Rosie said. "I think the company got wind of her extracurricular activities."

  "Extracurricular activities?" Amanda repeated blankly. "What does that mean?"

  "B grade escort service." Rosie spread a dab of cream cheese on her bagel. "Plus, of course, a nasty drug habit."

  "Darn it." Amanda wanted a confession. Signed, sealed and delivered. Her reason for wanting it wasn't too noble, either. Yeah, she wanted to make things right with the Molloys. But mostly she wanted Logan to know she was innocent.

  Unfortunately, in order to get that confession, she'd need to track Phoebe down.

  When Logan called to invite her to lunch, she refused. She was determined to get his apology for the false accusation about Daily Eats, but that didn't mean she'd ever forgive him for the way he'd responded to her pregnancy.

  "Don't be childish, Amanda," he said. "We have things to discuss."

  "No, we don't."

  "I heard you're at the office. Did you forget I fired you?"

  "I need to clear my name. I've already figured out who sent the note."

  "Good. I'd love to see the proof. Let's discuss it over lunch."

  She gritted her teeth silently. How did he know she didn't have any proof?

  "A neutral place," he said. "Your choice."

  "My choice is to be left alone."

  "You don't want to hand this over to lawyers, do you?"

  "There is no need for lawyers! Don't even think about threatening me."

  "Amanda." He waited for a moment to pass, giving her a chance to be reasonable. She hated knowing exactly what he was thinking.

  "I mean it, Logan."

  "Meet me at O'Grady's at noon," he said. He hung up.

  As much as she hated having to bow to Logan's demands, Amanda knew he'd follow through on the lawyers if necessary. Promptly at noon, she was standing at the busy hostess's desk in O'Grady's. Despite its name, O'Grady's was not a cozy Irish pub, but an elegant, mid-sized, upper East side restaurant.

  She spotted Logan immediately, at a table on the left side of the room, a little out of the way of the bustle. The honey-colored walls and table linens framed him beautifully, with his dark hair and tanned face set off by a snow white shirt. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and his gaze was bent to a stack of papers next to his plate. A glass of red wine punctuated the cool black and white picture he made in the gold room.

  Next to him, two chic thirty-something women were eyeing him like he was lunch and they were starving. He ignored them.

  Amanda clutched her mom's purse as if it were a lifeline. She didn't know if she had the courage to approach him. What if he sensed that she was as attracted to him today as she'd been the first time she set eyes on him?

  She couldn't let him suspect. Her entire focus now had to be on the baby. She knew that Logan would never be a part of the baby's life, and therefore, he couldn't be part of her life either.

  The maitre d' was standing there, waiting for her attention. She had to move.

  "Logan Winter," she said, proud of her cool tone.

  "Right this way, ma'am." He didn't even have to look around the room.

  Before she'd taken two steps, Logan looked up, as if he'd sensed her. He rose to his feet, placing the report he'd been reading by the side of his plate. He watched her through hooded eyes, his expression revealing nothing.

  "Thank you for joining me," he said, as the maitre d' pulled out her chair. "Am I correct in assuming you don't want wine?"

  She nodded, suddenly unable to speak, as her throat filled with emotion. Logan sat down again and now that she was closer, she noticed that his face was thinner and faint lines bracketed his mouth. Was it the failure of his public offering that had caused so much stress? Or something else?

  She would never know now. Something pinched her heart as a shattering realization burst over her. It didn’t matter what he did, what he said, or how badly he treated her. Her feelings were trapped within her heart, never to be set free. She would always love him.

  Regardless of the fact that he couldn't love her back.

  Logan nodded at the maitre d', who withdrew silently.

  Amanda unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap. It took all the courage she had to raise her head and meet his gaze. She feared what he might see there, whether her eyes would give her away.

  His gaze was calm, and expressionless, but she saw the pulse beating in his throat. Almost desperately, she wanted to feel his heart beating against her cheek, but she knew those days had passed. Her time with him had ended.

  The sooner she moved on, the better off she would be.

  Logan took a sip of his wine, and then placed the crystal goblet carefully on the table, as if he were measuring every movement. "I owe you an apology," he said.

  What? The simple words in his deep voice confounded her. She frowned in confusion.

  His long fingers curled around the wine glass. "Shock caused me to say some damn stupid things on Saturday," he said. "Can we start over?"

  She stared at him. What did that mean? She was having a baby. He didn't want children. There was no form of 'starting over' that would work for them.

  She clutched the linen napkin on her lap as if it were a lifeline. "I don't mean to hold you responsible," she managed. "You don't need to worry about that."

  "I hold myself responsible," he said quietly. "I intend to provide for you and the child."

  A waitress appeared, cocking her head and smiling at Logan. Amanda hadn't had a chance to look at the menu, but she didn't have an appetite. Nevertheless, she ordered a Caesar salad with chicken. The doctor had emphasized the importance of good nutrition.

  Logan ordered swordfish and appetizers.

  Amanda could scarcely wait for the server to leave so she could say, "I have no intention of being dependent on you."

  "I owe it to you." He raised his wine to his lips.

  Amanda tried hard not to look at his mouth, or his hands…

  "You don't owe me." She broke off a piece of a plain roll. "You were very clear on the subject of relationships, never mind children. I always understood that we didn't have a future together. This—this accident doesn't change anything."

  "It’s not in me to love someone." He swallowed a large gulp of wine. "I—"

  "I know that." She cut him off, not wanting to hear excuses and explanations. "You must have been hurt badly in the past, Logan," she added. "You’ll never take a chance on love again. I accept that."

  His gray eyes flickered, just once, but she knew she'd touched a nerve. Still, she hadn't breached the dam. He remained silent, and she sighed. She would have to let him go his way. Not because she wanted to, but because she had no choice. Only he could decide he wanted to reach out to life. Only he could expose himself to the potential pain of love again.

  He stabbed his fork into the swordfish. "I’ve told you I intend to provide for the child."

  "That’s not necessary." She would never accept being tied to him due to his sense of responsibility. She sipped her water, a pale imitation of the rich, complex glass of wine she would have preferred, and she knew her life would be like that. Thin. Colorless. When it could have been full and abundant with love, if she'd fallen in love with a man who wasn't emotionally broken.

  Her hand drifted to her stomach. She had an
other love to worry about now. "We’ll be fine. I think it would be better for the child to have no father than to have the kind who pays the bills but…" But is unable to love. The unspoken words hung in the air as her voice trailed off. She hadn’t come here to make him feel guilty.

  He blew out a sharp sigh, as if she were being difficult, but he was determined to soldier on. "I was an ass to suggest you might have done this on purpose."

  She shrugged. Yeah, he'd been an ass. Didn't change a thing.

  Logan assessed her for a moment, as if wondering what strategy would work. "You should be thinking about the child," he finally said. "How will you provide for him or her? What about medical care? You're a smart woman. You know the best care costs money."

  Anger spiked within her. How dare he act like she couldn't provide for herself, when he was the one who'd pulled her livelihood out from under her? "If I had my job," she said hotly, "I'd have insurance, and enough money."

  "I was hasty about your job." A smidgen of apology colored his tone. "I'll find something for you."

  "I want the job I was hired to do. Not some busywork to ease your conscience."

  Annoyance flashed on his face. "The job I hired you to do requires a lot of travel and late nights. That won't be good for your pregnancy. Didn't you say you were already having trouble?" He glanced at her untouched food.

  Darn. She couldn't get away with even the tiniest lie.

  "I can do the job," she said stubbornly.

  Logan speared an asparagus tip. "I spent the morning dealing with the Daily Eats lawsuit."

  She heard what he didn't say. She should have been handling that problem on Friday. Already, the pregnancy had interfered with her ability to do her work.

  "I know who sent the email," she said.

  He continued chewing, but raised his eyebrows in silent query.

  "Would you believe Phoebe did it?" she asked, then slapped herself mentally for not making a stronger statement.

  He laid down his fork. "Do you have proof?"

  Amanda sighed. Why couldn't she ever have the upper hand? "I plan to get it."

  He frowned. "How did Phoebe know anything about the Daily Eats deal?"

  "I caught her in my office one day. I think she saw some email correspondence on my computer and seized the moment to make trouble."

  "Why would she want to harm you?"

  Amanda dropped the roll she was trying to force down her throat. Less than half of it was gone. She had no more appetite for the food than for the conversation. But she had to defend herself.

  She met Logan's gaze directly. "Has Phoebe ever made a pass at you?"

  A red tinge bloomed on his cheekbones. But his voice was cool. "I think she chases anything in pants."

  "She must have heard some of those ridiculous rumors flying around the company about us. It made her jealous."

  "Ridiculous rumors?" He leaned forward. "What kind of rumors will fly when your condition becomes known?"

  "No one needs to know…who the father is."

  "Wrong," he snapped. "It will quickly become common knowledge that I am fathering a child."

  "Not if we don't tell."

  "I have no intention of hiding anything. Since I plan to be fully involved in the child's life, it would be stupid to attempt secrecy."

  "You are not going to have anything to do with this baby." She had to resist the urge to pound her hand on the table. "You've made your feelings about children perfectly clear."

  He lifted his brows. "There will be custody issues involved here. Let me be perfectly clear on that."

  She sprang to her feet. "You bastard. Don't even think about fighting me for custody."

  "There you go." He looked up at her. "As it happens, I am not a bastard. But you use the slur automatically. Do you want it to be true when your child hears it?"

  "Who knows what you are! You never say a word about your family. You could have sprung from the head of Zeus for all I know!"

  A spasm of pain crossed his face. She sucked in her breath. Whoa. She'd definitely touched a nerve.

  "You're going off track," he said, his tone very even. "I will not give up the right to see my child. But I'm prepared to be generous with custody if you—" He paused.

  "If I do exactly as you say," she snapped. "With my life. No thanks."

  "Please sit down," Logan said. "We're attracting an audience."

  The two women at the next table were watching avidly. Staring. Amanda had no doubt they'd heard every word. With her luck, they were probably journalists.

  "You're right," she said, injecting as much sweetness into her tone as she could manage. "Anger is an emotion, and we can't have any emotion on display, can we?" Slowly, she walked toward him.

  "I think we're both mature enough to refrain from any emotional displays."

  "Really?" She touched his shoulder and walked behind him, trailing her hand over the back of his neck. She was relieved to feel goose bumps appear. "Lust is also an emotion. You do know that, right? And it's the emotion that got us into this trouble." She stopped at his side, facing him, pleased to see wariness enter his eyes.

  "What is your point, Amanda?" He didn't try to dislodge her hand. "As I said a minute ago, we've gotten totally off track here."

  She removed her hand from his shoulder, letting it graze her breasts on the way down.

  His eyes narrowed, but she couldn't miss the leap of desire.

  He probably didn't miss the buzzing that stiffened her nipples either.

  But she knew what she had to do.

  "I feel emotions," she said. "I am not a robot. I feel pain when you tell me I've trapped you. I feel anger when you try to run my life."

  His lips tightened. "You—"

  She raised one hand to halt him. "Now that we've got that settled—" She grabbed her purse from the back of her chair. "I'll be on my way."

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  "On. My. Way." She threw the words over her shoulder. "That doesn't sound complicated to me."

  "Wait." He pushed back his chair. "I want to finish this discussion."

  "I wanted respect." She forced her lips into a curve, hoped it would pass for a smile, and stormed out of the restaurant.

  Chapter 26

  Amanda spent several weeks working hard. In the spirit of "don't ask for permission, ask for forgiveness", she carried on with her job as if she'd never been fired. With each day that passed, she grew more comfortable with the idea that Logan did not intend to challenge her on the issue.

  Via email, she received permission to travel to Philadelphia and meet with the Molloys. They accepted her explanation that another employee had sent the note to cause trouble and that employee had been terminated. She left with high hopes that the purchase would take place.

  Although, in the back of her mind, a niggle of worry remained. It would be very difficult for her to move to Philadelphia to run Daily Eats. She was going to need the help of her mother to raise this baby, which meant staying in the New York area.

  If she grieved at night over the absence of Logan, no one else knew it. She would have a part of him when her baby was born, and that would have to be enough.

  The tenuous peace she'd attained was blown up in the dark hours before dawn one morning when she began bleeding. After she reached the hospital, the doctor confirmed her worst fears.

  "You need complete bed rest." Her ob/gyn, Dr. Vesser, spoke gently, but her words struck fear into Amanda's heart.

  "I can't do that," Amanda said, clutching the thin hospital nightgown. "My job—"

  "You're only in your fifth month. The health of your baby must be your first concern."

  "Yes, but I need an income."

  "That's what disability is for," the doctor said crisply. She tapped on her laptop, writing notes to seal Amanda's doom. "I'd like you to go home and make arrangements to stay there. Is there anyone who can help you? You'll need someone to take you home from the hospital today."

  "I can wor
k at home, right?"

  "Only if you want to risk losing this pregnancy."

  Amanda stared as the news rolled around in her head with terrible finality. She had to choose between her job and her baby? Of course, that was no choice. The job would have to go, but as the door started closing, she railed one more time at the turn her life had taken. She wanted to work! She needed to work! Was that asking so much of the fates? How had her life fallen apart so completely?

  As she watched the doctor typing away, a great weight settled on her chest. She was an unmarried, pregnant woman. Whatever independence she might have achieved without this catastrophe had disappeared like a will of the wisp. She was so dependent on others now that she couldn't even get home from the hospital on her own. How had this happened?

  "By the way, doctor, how did I get pregnant while on the pill?" The question had been bothering her right from the beginning.

  The doctor glanced up. "No birth control is one hundred percent effective."

  "I thought that was because people were careless, lied, or didn't use it properly."

  Dr. Vesser shrugged. "Those things are true. But there are also unexplained pregnancies. Were you on any antibiotics prior to becoming pregnant?"

  Amanda gasped. The strep throat. Had that doomed her? She hesitated, suddenly unsure if she really wanted to know. But it had never been her way to hide her head in the sand.

  "What if I was?"

  "There's a possibility that antibiotics interfere with the pill," the doctor answered. "It's never been proven definitively."

  Amanda closed her eyes as the news sank in. Could such a simple twist of fate have been her downfall?

  The doctor patted the foot of the bed. "It's only for four months," she said. "The time will pass."

  Easy for her to say. Amanda watched her go and then heaved a sigh. At this point, it didn't matter how she'd gotten pregnant, nor how helpless she was. She needed to call Rosie and get herself home and situated.

  Rosie was the only one who knew yet. Besides Logan, of course. But she'd do anything short of a miscarriage to avoid calling him.

  However, the very next day, when she was on the phone to HR, learning about short-term disability, her doorbell rang.

  Instinct told her exactly who it was. He hadn't given up. He'd only retreated to wait for his opportunity to pounce.