by Jillian Dodd
“You’re quitting polo?” I ask, a little devastated. I was hoping to go to a match with him.
“Yes. I must stop my playboy ways, marry in the church, and produce an heir. Considering my last girlfriend dumped me for a younger man and my ex-wife did not succumb to my charms a second time, I am going to fail my family. It may sound silly to an American, but in my culture, family is everything. And I have been given a great responsibility.”
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out. Shit. Why did I just say that?
He squints his eyes, thinking. “And the rich man is the baby’s father?”
“This makes me sound horrible, but I met this man just after I learned I was pregnant. I was devastated. This guy was all VIP and I needed an escape from daily life. I only planned on it being a one-night stand. But he swept me off my feet, took me on his private jet to parties around the world. I got caught up in it and in him. Then some girl who broke his heart like ten years ago, who was still married, came back into his life and wanted to get back together with him. In my mind, I was protecting him from her. By that time, I had missed work, got fired, and got kicked out of my apartment. I was desperate, so I told him it was his. The baby’s real father was a bartender. He doesn’t even know I’m pregnant and wouldn’t want to have anything do with the baby.”
“What’s his heritage?”
“The baby’s father?”
“Yes.”
“Um, his father was from Ecuador and his mother was from Argentina.”
“Interesting. How far along are you?”
“Eleven weeks,” I admit. “That’s the other thing. I don’t think the guy with money will be thrilled to learn I am pregnant with someone else’s child. He’s kind of an ass.”
“I’m kind of an ass, too,” Juan says, laughing. “Or so I am told. But I’m going to change that. It is important to me.”
“You’re one of the nicest human beings I have ever met,” I tell him, sincerely.
“Then clearly, I have you fooled,” he teases. “I like that about you.”
I smile. He’s flirting with and teasing me. It’s like everything he does, every breath of air he takes, is part of one long stretch of foreplay.
He asks the waiter guy to bring me some sparkling water and a lime. Then he says, “Will you please excuse me?” He points to the chaises on the sun deck. “Why don’t you relax? I will be back momentarily.”
I wait for a whole lot of moments and start wondering if he’s jumped ship.
Guess that’s what I get for being honest.
Keatyn & Aiden’s home - Chelsea
RILEY
“Happy birthday!” Dallas says as I sit down at the kitchen table. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good. I didn’t drink much last night. The bachelor party did me in.”
He laughs. “And I’m the opposite. I was too busy videoing the bachelor party to drink much. Last night was another story.”
“Yeah, when you started singing”—I smirk—“I knew it was time to cut you off.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Ha! You’re right about that. You deserved it!”
Keatyn wanders into the room, wrapped up in a long cashmere robe. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she has dark circles under her eyes.
“Are you feeling okay?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says, putting on a fake smile. Although she’s a good actress, I’ve known her long enough now that she can’t fool me. “I’m fine. Just been up late the past few nights, and it’s catching up to me.”
“You’re supposed to be relaxing on your honeymoon,” I reply, feeling bad. “I hope our being here hasn’t totally ruined it.”
“Of course it hasn’t, Riley! I would have flown here from wherever we were to be at Knox and Katie’s wedding. And it has been so fun, having you all here to break in the new house. I do have a bit of a cold though. Probably from switching climates.”
My phone buzzes, causing me to look down. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
I set my phone down in frustration. “I thought it might be Shelby. I’ve texted her a few times since Sunday when I canceled our dinner plans, and still, no word. At first, I thought she was just mad that I went out of town without telling her why—or inviting her with—but now, I’m starting to get a little worried.”
“Call the hotel,” Dallas offers. “Have them check on her.”
“That’s a good idea.” I make the call.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson,” the hotel manager says. “Miss Benson has not been in her room in a few days—since Sunday, I believe.”
“Is her stuff all still there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is she okay?”
“I believe so.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“I really am not at liberty to discuss our guest’s personal life,” he states.
“I’m paying for her room. I think you are well aware of that.”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
“She’s pregnant with my child. I would like to know where she is or any information you might have before I contact the police.”
“Oh, sir, that isn’t necessary,” he backtracks. “I can assure you that she is on a planned trip.”
“Do you know where to?”
“She did not leave word as to her destination, but it’s my understanding that she will be returning.”
“Thank you,” I say, hanging up, frustrated.
“I take it, he didn’t tell you anything?” Dallas asks.
“Nothing other than she is on a planned trip. Where would she go?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere with a friend? To see family?” Keatyn offers.
“Shit. When she was mad at me about Ariela, she threatened to move back home with her mother. She told me that she’d raise the baby without me. She can’t do that, can she?”
“Calm down, Riley,” Dallas says as Keatyn takes a three-tiered confetti birthday cake out of the refrigerator, sets it in front of me, and starts adding a whole freaking lot of candles to it. “I’m sure she and the baby are fine. The legal answer to your question is, right now, she can do whatever she wants. Once the baby is born, you’ll have more rights, and we’ll make sure you do.”
“I’m still worried about her. She left home when she was young, but she did mention that her mom had gotten her life back together—whatever that means.”
“You care about her, don’t you?” Keatyn asks, handing a lighter to Dallas. “Here, light these. You’ve always been better at it than me.”
Dallas grins.
“Yeah, I guess I do care about her,” I reply. “The ultrasound photo kinda did me in.”
“Happy birthday, Riley!” Keatyn yells out, interrupting the conversation and giving me a hug. “Wow, twenty-nine. You’re practically over the hill!”
“No, that will be your husband in another month,” I sass. “He’s turning the big three-oh.”
“I don’t think he cares. He’s excited about it. I remember when I used to think thirty was practically ancient!”
“Me, too. And, yet, here we are.”
“Speak for yourself.” She laughs. “I still have a year and a half before I turn thirty! And, thankfully, I will hit my goal of having my first child before that milestone. In fact, if all goes well, I’ll triple it.”
Once the candles are all glowing, lighting up the room like a damn spotlight, she and Dallas starts singing.
When they are finished, Keatyn says, “Make a wish, Riley!”
I stare into the flames and know exactly what I want. Ariela. I close my eyes. I want to stop blaming her. I want to stop being mad at her for the past. I want to stop fucking Shelby. I want Ariela to get a divorce and marry me, and I’ll spend a lifetime making up for the ten years we lost—
“You’d better hurry up and make a wish before we burn down the new house,” Dallas teases.
I don’t open my eyes. I hold the wish in my head
and blow out the candles.
While Keatyn takes the candles off and cuts huge wedges for each of us, I tell her and Dallas something that has been on my mind. “I’ve been thinking about buying that house in Sonoma as a birthday present to myself.”
“Riley, you know I would be excited to have you close, and you have to do what’s right for you, but tell me why you want to buy it.”
I shrug. “It feels like the kind of place where I could grow old with someone.”
“And which someone do you want to grow old with?” she asks.
“The other day, I did that thing Grandpa Douglas told you about—how, when you can’t decide what to do—”
“You resorted to a coin flip?” Dallas asks, furrowing his brows.
I lower my head in shame and nod.
Keatyn rubs the top of my hand, and it makes me feel stronger. She can do that. Sometimes, Dallas gives me a hard time, but Keatyn is the opposite. I guess maybe she’s been through enough that she’s more understanding. Less demanding. More like she’d help guide me down the right path. And I wish she would. I wish someone would just decide for me. Someone who knows what my right path is. If I take the risk I want more than anything to take, it’s going to be difficult. It’s going to test me. And, even though Ariela is what I wished for, what I want, I’m afraid I’m not up for the challenge.
“What did you learn, Riley?” she asks gently.
“The first person I thought of was Ariela. She’s who I want more than anything. She’s who I’ve dreamed of spending my life with. And, even though she has changed over the last ten years, she’s still my girl.”
“So then, you know. It’s Ariela.”
“At your wedding, I would have answered that question with a yes. We talked, and everything she said made me feel so much better. She told me that she was weak when she broke up with me. That she was young and scared and foolish then, but that she’s not anymore. She told me she wants to be with me and that she wasn’t afraid to tell me that she still loves me.”
“Aw, Riley,” Keatyn says, visibly melting and then shoving a big bite of cake in her mouth. There’s nothing that gets to her like a good love story.
“Oh, it gets better.” I grin, egging her on. “I asked her what she wanted from our relationship, going forward.”
“Is this going to get all mushy?” Dallas teases. “If so, I might have to go throw up.”
“Shut up, Dallas!” Keatyn says, swatting his arm. “You have no room to talk, pookie bear.”
Dallas shrugs my comment off with a laugh.
“Keep going, Riley,” Keatyn encourages.
“The night of your wedding was when we were supposed to decide if we wanted to go forward—like, if we wanted to date. So, I asked her what she wanted. At first, she said that she just wants me. Then she told me that wasn’t true. That what she wants is to marry me, have babies with me, and love me until I’m old and gray.”
“Ohmigod, that’s so sweet, Riley. How did it make you feel? Can you do that? Can you let go of the hurt and be happy with her?”
“Yes, I can, but—”
“There’s not supposed to be a but, Riley,” she chastises.
“There is when the butt is attached to someone who looks like Shelby.” Dallas lets out a laugh. He’s teasing but not.
“Right. If Shelby wasn’t in the picture, I’d be with Ariela right now. When I flipped the coin, I thought of Ariela, but I also thought of the ultrasound photo and Shelby.”
Dallas rolls his eyes while Keatyn presses her finger into her brow—something she does when she’s feeling stressed. I grab her hand and pull it away.
“Aiden has given me strict orders not to stress you. Where is he anyway?”
“He had a meeting this morning.”
“Wine stuff?”
“Sort of. I want to tell you about it, but we need to finish this conversation first. So, when you flipped the coin, you saw them both.”
“Dude,” Dallas says, leaning back in his chair, “you’re giving me emotional whiplash.”
“That’s exactly how I’ve been feeling and why this has been so difficult. I love Ariela, but I have to think about Shelby and the baby.”
“Riley, you don’t even know for sure if it’s yours,” Dallas stresses.
“I believe it is. I didn’t want a baby. I certainly didn’t want one with Shelby. But I’ve grown to care for her. And the baby.”
“But can you picture yourself marrying her and living happily ever after?” Keatyn challenges.
I open my mouth to speak, but Dallas raises his hand. “Wait. Before you answer that question, I want you to consider a few points.”
“Okay,” I say with a smirk. “What have you got, counselor?”
“You told me that Ariela won’t sleep with you again until you are in a monogamous relationship. Why do you think that is?”
“Because she loves me, and she’s crazy jealous of Shelby,” I answer.
“Correct. Now, what does it say about Shelby that she’s willing to share you?”
“She doesn’t love me the way Ariela does,” I state, already knowing what he’s thinking.
“So, who should you choose?” he asks.
“Ariela.”
“And who will you choose?”
“Before I answer that, I have a few questions for you two,” I say. “Ariela handled dealing with Shelby very poorly. Does that mean they will never get along?”
“No, it doesn’t,” Keatyn says. “It’s going to take some time for Ariela and Shelby to establish a relationship. It’s a sort of messed up situation, but that doesn’t mean it can’t work. The reason it went poorly the first time is because you were sleeping with them both. That created competition. Until you decide who you want and stick to it, they won’t get along.” She stops and considers things for a moment. “Honestly, once you choose, you know what will happen.”
“Yes, if I choose Shelby and the baby, I will lose Ariela completely.”
“And how does that make you feel?” Dallas asks.
“It wrecks me,” I say. “I know you are trying to help me figure it out, but I don’t think it’s necessary. The coin toss did actually clarify things for me.”
“But you said you saw them both, Riley.” Keatyn sighs. “You can’t have them both.”
“Yes, I can. I want to marry Ariela as soon as she gets a divorce. I want to buy the Sonoma house, raise a family, and love her forever. But I also want my child in my life—”
Dallas stops me with a raise of his eyebrow.
“If it’s mine, Shelby will be a part of my life as well. When the coin flipped, I saw the ultrasound photo, not Shelby herself. I won’t deny that I have feelings for Shelby, but they are feelings I wouldn’t have for her if she wasn’t pregnant.”
I shove a big bite of cake in my mouth as my phone buzzes again. This time, it’s my brother.
“Hang on,” I say, answering. “Need to swallow.”
“That’s what she said,” Dawson teases.
“I’m eating birthday cake. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“And that’s why I’m calling,” he says. “To wish you a happy birthday.”
“Thanks.”
“Mom says this coming weekend is going to be one big celebration, including my little brother’s last birthday of his twenties. Dad says we will be drinking Irish whiskey.”
“Oh, gosh, no,” I beg. “Anything but that. How about some nice tequila?”
“Anything you want. Hey, um, I think you should bring the ultrasound photo with you, show it to Mom and Dad. You need to tell them.”
“I was kind of waiting to see if it was mine or not first. Please don’t mention it to them.”
“Mom gets a Google alert every time your name is mentioned. She saw the baby-mama-drama post.”
“Well, shit,” I say. “I guess I’ll have to come clean about it then. See you in a few days.”
I hang up just as Keatyn finishes her cake. Her skin
is starting to brighten. Maybe she just needed some food.
But then she covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, crap,” she says, rushing off.
Dallas and I cringe when we hear her puking up the cake.
He sets his fork down. “I think I’m done now.”
I laugh, then figure, Screw it, and keep eating my cake the entire time she’s puking. It’s my fucking birthday after all.
Before Keatyn gets back from the bathroom, her chef, Marvel, comes into the room. When he walks into a kitchen anywhere in the world, he takes command of the space.
“I’m told your customary birthday meal is chicken and waffles. I have taken the liberty of preparing the fried chicken but wanted to wait until you had awoken before cooking the waffles. I have to say, this is a very odd combination.”
“You’ve never had chicken and waffles?” Dallas asks. “Marvel, you are in for a treat.”
Marvel sticks his nose up in the air, like the thought is beneath him, and gets to work, heating up a large waffle iron and then pouring an already prepped batter into it. Soon, the room is filled with a wonderful sweet scent.
“Oh, that smells good,” Keatyn says, returning.
“You feel okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Being pregnant is kind of weird. The nausea comes on suddenly, but for the most part, it’s over just as quickly. Like, I’m ready to eat some breakfast now.”
“Thank you for making my favorite,” I say gratefully, locking eyes with her.
She’s been my best friend for so long, and she never forgets stuff like this.
I get up to give her a squeeze. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Riley. You know I love you.”
“Better not let your new husband hear that,” Aiden teases as he comes into the room. He’s dressed up. Full suit, tie, and wing tips.
“You look hot as fuck,” Keatyn says, letting out a whistle and fanning her face. “What is it about a man in a suit?”