All's Fair in Lust & War

by Amber Page

  If only, Becky thought. Out loud, she said, “All right. Well, I’ll talk to you soon, Mom. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. Remember to take the pepper spray I bought you if you go out.”

  “I will.”

  “And never leave your drink unattended.”

  “Okay.”

  “And...”

  At long last her mother hung up. Becky flung herself backward on the chaise. Any other parent would be thrilled to hear their child had just gotten promoted. But not her mom. The only promotion she wanted to hear about was one that involved putting a “Mrs.” in front of her name. Or the title “Mother of” after it.

  Infertility clinic, my foot, she thought, taking a giant swig of wine. She already knew her ovaries worked. The proof was in the box under her bed.

  Speaking of ovaries...shouldn’t she be getting her period about now? Becky reached for her phone and fired up her period-tracking app. Yep. Her last one had been the week before AdWorld. That meant Aunt Flow should show up...

  Damn. It should have come a week and a half ago.

  Becky’s mind froze.

  There were all kinds of reasons why she could be late. She’d been under a huge amount of stress. Not sleeping well. Eating too much fast food and drinking too much wine.

  But being stressed out was a way of life for her. And she didn’t eat all that well on even the best of days.

  And she had been having lots of sex. But they’d been safe about it, right? She thought hard, trying to remember all the moments they’d stopped to put a condom on. Yep. They had. Every single time. Except...

  The afternoon of the sword fight.

  Neither of them had even thought about a condom. She hadn’t even realized they’d forgotten until she’d seen the undeniable evidence in her underwear while getting into her pajamas that evening.

  She raced to the bathroom and tore off her shirt and bra. If she wasn’t mistaken her boobs did look bigger than usual. She squeezed one, just to see.

  “Ow!”

  Yep. They were tender.

  Time to call in the troops.

  She pulled out her phone and texted Jessie.

  We have a 911 situation over here.

  Seconds later, the phone rang.

  “Becky, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Is someone dead?” Jessie asked, sounding breathless and shaken.

  “No. Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Then what was the 911 about?”

  “I think I might be pregnant,” she said quietly.

  “What? How? I mean I know how, but...”

  “I’ll explain later. Could you come over, please?” Becky asked, hating the tremor in her voice.

  Jessie sighed. “I’m kind of on a date.”

  “Oh. Okay. Never mind. I’ll just run out and get a test.”

  “Keep me posted, okay?”

  “I will,” she whispered, and hung up.

  Knowing she should head right to the drugstore, she instead found herself on her knees in front of her bed, gazing at the old sonogram picture.

  How many times had she sworn she’d never put herself in this position again? That she’d protect herself at all costs?

  Too many to count.

  The first time had been in Pence’s office, right after she’d told him she was quitting.

  “What do you mean, you quit?” he’d said. “You can’t quit.”

  “Yes, I can. I am. And I’m using my vacation time as my notice. I’ve got two weeks coming to me,” she’d said, hoping beyond hope he couldn’t see her knees trembling.

  “What will you do?” he’d asked, his voice suddenly cold. “You know as well as I do that I’m the only reason you’ve made it as far as you have.”

  “That’s not true,” she’d said quietly.

  “Sure it is. I could’ve gotten rid of you after your internship was over. But I kept you around. Made sure you got put on the best assignments,” he’d said, walking over to his awards shelf. “The only reason you got your award was because I convinced the client to go with your idea.”

  “They would have chosen it even if you hadn’t pushed it,” she’d said, anger sparking in her veins. “But you had to feel like you were in control of every part of my life. You never let me do things on my own!”

  “That’s because you would have failed,” he’d said, stalking silently across the plush green carpet toward her. “You screw everything up. Heck, you can’t even manage to take your birth control pills the right way.”

  She’d gasped, his barbed comment tearing open the thin scab on her heart. “Oh, my God, you’re unbelievable.”

  He’d smiled coldly as he came to stand in front of her. “I deserved that, so I won’t hold it against you.” Then, taking a deep breath, he’d said, “Let’s start over. Becky, please don’t leave. We’ve got a good thing going here. Stick with me and you’ll be a star.”

  “I already am a star, Pence. And I don’t need you to continue being one.”

  “No one will hire you,” he’d said softly.

  “I already have a job,” she’d said defiantly.

  “Where? Ads R Us?”

  “At an agency with more awards than you can count. In a place where they’ve never heard of you.”

  “You’ll fail,” he’d said, turning his back on her.

  “No. I won’t. I’ll knock their socks off,” she’d said with more confidence than she’d felt. “But I do have you to thank for one thing.”

  “What?” he’d said over his shoulder.

  “Now I know better than to let some egotistical man get in my head. Or my bed. No one will ever be able to mess up my life the way you have, Pence.”

  He’d snorted.

  “You’ll be knocked up and out of the game before the year is up.”

  “I doubt it. But you’ll definitely still be a bitter asshole stuck in a loveless marriage. If she doesn’t wise up and leave you.”

  His answer had been a wordless roar. One she still occasionally heard in her dreams.

  Her reverie was broken by a loud buzzing sound. Someone was at the front door.

  She got up and shuffled to the intercom. “Hello?”

  “Let me in, girl. It’s cold out here,” Jessie’s voice called.

  ‘What happened to your date?”

  “You’re more important. Now, hit the dang buzzer!”

  Becky did, and went to hold the door open for her friend.

  Jessie bounded up the stairs, plastic bag in hand.

  “I come bearing gifts,” she said. “Five flavors of pee sticks and two flavors of ice cream.”

  “I told you I was going to take care of it,” Becky protested.

  “And did you?”

  Becky shook her head.

  “Right, then. Pick your poison. Pink, purple, blue, red or generic?” Jessie said, holding the bag out in front of her.

  Becky closed her eyes and reached inside.

  “Looks like we’re going with pink,” she said.

  * * *

  Becky sat on the closed toilet lid, eyes squeezed tightly shut. In three minutes she’d have her answer.

  There was a soft knock and Jessie came in, her sequined skirt sparkling in the harsh fluorescent light.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “Well, I won a two-hundred-and-fifty-million-dollar piece of business, told off my ex, got promoted and found out I might be pregnant. All in one day. How could I be anything less than fabulous?” she said.

  Jessie squeezed her hand. “It’ll be okay,” she said.

  Her phone alarm shrilled loudly. Becky blew out a big breath of air.

  “Do you want to look or do you want me to?” Jessi
e asked.

  “I’ll do it,” Becky said.

  Reaching out with one shaking hand, she grabbed the pink-capped stick from where it sat on the edge of her ugly green tub and looked down.

  “Well?” Jessie asked, her voice shaking.

  Mutely, Becky held it out for her to see, stomach roiling.

  “Oh, no,” she breathed. “Becky, I’m sorry.”

  She was pregnant.

  Becky slammed the toilet lid open seconds before her dinner made a reappearance.

  “Well,” Jessie said, when the heaving had stopped. “That’s not the reaction you see on TV.”

  Becky tried to smile. “Yep, but—as we well know— advertising tells only a selective version of the truth.”

  Jessie helped her up. “You took the words right out of my mouth. Now, come on, let’s get you out of here. Nothing good comes of extended visits to the bathroom.”

  A short while later Becky was again stretched out on her purple chaise, a bottle of hastily purchased ginger ale fizzing on the table beside her. Jessie was curled up on her only other piece of furniture—a very faded red couch.

  Jessie looked at Becky over the rim of her wine glass. “So, I’m assuming this is Mark’s kid, right?”

  Becky raised an eyebrow at her. “While I admit my behavior has been a little more reckless than usual, I assure you I haven’t been having sex with random men I meet on the street.”

  “No. I know, I didn’t mean... I’m sorry, Becky.”

  She waved her comment away. “No worries. I understand.”

  “You know, there’s a clinic in my neighborhood. They have a reputation for being very discreet...”

  Becky shook her head. “I don’t need a clinic. I’m keeping it.”

  Jessie’s jaw dropped.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, you just got the world’s biggest promotion today.”

  “Positive. I’ll figure out how to make it work.” She’d made her decision the second she’d seen the plus sign on the pregnancy test. It was the only thing she could do.

  Jessie looked unconvinced. “Well, if you change your mind, just let me know. I’d be happy to go with you.”

  Suddenly angry, Becky glared at her friend. “How could you say that to me? You know what happened...before. Having that abortion almost destroyed me. Do you want me to have to go through that again?”

  Jessie paled. “I’m sorry. I...I wasn’t thinking. I just don’t want you to rush into anything. It’s a big decision.”

  Becky immediately regretted her outburst. Her friend had never been anything but supportive. And there was no way she could know how concrete her decision was.

  “I’m sorry, Jessie. You didn’t deserve that. But I’m keeping this baby. I couldn’t live with any other choice.”

  Jessie nodded. “All right. Well, I’ll support you, then.”

  Becky smiled her thanks and the two women sat silently for a while. Becky thanked her lucky stars she’d gotten that bonus check today. She’d be able to buy the baby everything it needed. And, she thought, looking around her shoebox-size apartment, she might even be able to afford a bigger place.

  “What are you going to do about Mark?” Jessie asked suddenly.

  Her brain stuttered. “Do?”

  “Well, you’re going to have to tell him. It’s not like he won’t notice. Besides, he deserves to know.”

  Unbelievably, she’d forgotten about that small detail. She’d been thinking about the baby as hers, not theirs.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t think he’s going to be very happy though. He’s pretty anti-kids.”

  “Well,” Jessie said, “whatever happens, you know I’ll be there for you. I’ll even be your labor coach, if you want.”

  Becky laughed. “I’m not quite ready to think about that yet.”

  Jessie looked at her watch, then heaved herself off of the couch. “Man, it’s getting late. I better get going so you can get some rest. Are you going to be okay?”

  Becky nodded.

  “Okay,” she said, wrapping her rainbow scarf around her neck. “Take care of yourself.”

  “I will.”

  After one final hug Jessie was gone.

  Becky sank to the floor and hugged her knees, allowing herself to hope for a minute. Mark had been ready to start a relationship this afternoon. Maybe it would all be okay.

  Her mind flashed back to the way he’d behaved with that little boy on the way to the park. He was a natural. Maybe he’d jump at the chance to be a dad.

  And maybe pigs were getting ready to fly.

  Oh, well. No time like the present to get the ball rolling.

  Pulling out her phone, she texted Mark.

  We need to talk.

  Almost instantly her phone pinged with his reply.

  I’m listening, Gorgeous Girl.

  Not over text. In person. Dinner tomorrow?

  Sure. Where?

  Come over. I’ll cook.

  This was a conversation that needed to be held in private.

  See you at seven?

  Can’t wait.

  A bald-faced lie.

  Hopefully tomorrow night would go better than it had the last time she’d had this conversation with a man.

  It could hardly be worse.

  TEN

  Mark woke up on Saturday morning feeling happier than he could remember ever being. For once, all was right with his world.

  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and padded across the hardwood floor of his studio apartment to the granite kitchen island where the fifty-thousand-dollar check was sitting. He ran his finger across the dollar amount. All those zeroes belonged to him. And he hadn’t had to beg his stepfather for a penny of it.

  On impulse, he snapped a picture of the check and texted his mother.

  Your boy done good. Got promoted to creative director yesterday. With this as a bonus.

  He hit Send and waited for a response. None came.

  Not that he had really expected anything else. His mother had made it quite clear over the years that she’d really rather her son disappeared so she could focus on the family she did want.

  Shake it off, he told himself. Much better to focus on the things he had a chance of fixing—like his relationship with Becky.

  And, although it scared him to admit it, he did want a relationship. He wanted to wander the city with her. He wanted to walk in Little Italy at night and explore Central Park during the day. He wanted to eat with her in her tiny apartment and see her golden hair spread out on his pillows after a night of love.

  Not even the fact that they worked together deterred him. They made a crazy good team—both in and out of the office.

  All he had to do was convince her to give it a try.

  * * *

  Night had already descended when Mark arrived on Becky’s doorstep, bearing a bottle of wine and a bunch of daisies tied with a ribbon that matched her eyes.

  Taking a deep breath, he pushed the buzzer.

  Seconds later, the door clicked open.

  Becky was waiting for him at the top of the dark staircase. “Hey, Magic Man,” she said with a smile.

  “Hey, yourself,” he said, taking the time to appreciate the plunging blue V-neck top and tight black leather skirt she was wearing. “You’re looking even more gorgeous than usual, Gorgeous Girl.”

  “Thank you,” she said shyly, turning her cheek when he reached down to kiss her.

  Hmm. That was a new one.

  He handed her the wine and flowers. “For my beautiful hostess,” he said.

  “How did you know daisies were my favorite?” she asked.

  “Lucky guess,” he said.

 
; She ushered him inside, then busied herself in the kitchen, putting the flowers in water. “Make yourself at home,” she called.

  While small, her apartment felt cozy and warm. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow and decorated with pictures of brightly colored flowers and tropical beaches. Although a tiny dining table was tucked away in one corner, a giant purple chaise dominated the room. It shared the space with a comfortable-looking couch and a plethora of rainbow-hued pillows.

  “I don’t think I mentioned it the last time I was here, but I really love your place.”

  “Thank you,” she said, rounding the corner from the kitchen. “It’s tiny, but I kind of love it.”

  “From what I can tell, every apartment in New York is tiny—even the ones you pay millions of dollars for.”

  “That’s true,” she said. “Although I hear the roaches in the expensive ones wear diamond-plated shells.”

  “That figures. Roaches are excellent at adapting to their surroundings.”

  She laughed and reached up to kiss him. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered.

  When he sensed her backing away, he reached out to pull her closer.

  “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” he said. “Maybe later we can have dessert in bed again. This time I’ll be the plate.”

  “Mmm,” she said with an enigmatic smile. “We’ll see how the evening goes. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Good. I’ve got lasagna. It’ll be ready in just a sec.”

  “Can I help?”

  “No need. Unless you want to open the wine?”

  He followed her into the kitchen and took the bottle she handed him.

  “Glasses are on the table,” she said. “But just pour me a drop.”

  “Are you sure? The guy at the wine shop told me this was an excellent vintage—whatever that means.”