by Amber Page
“I’m sure,” she said.
She was definitely acting a little odd. He hoped it was because she was trying to get used to the idea of them being a couple and not because she had something bad to tell him.
Mentally he shook his head. No use borrowing trouble before he had it.
Soon Becky brought out plates of lasagna and garlic bread.
“It looks awesome,” he said.
“I hope so,” she said. “Dig in!”
He picked up his wine glass. “I’d like to propose a toast,” he said.
Becky smiled and raised her glass. “Okay, let’s hear it.”
“To the kick-ass team that is us. Here’s hoping this is the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship.”
She seemed to wince a little at his words, but gamely clinked her glass with his. “To us,” she murmured.
An awkward silence fell, and Mark watched as Becky picked at her food.
He let the quiet go on, hoping she’d be the one to break it. She didn’t.
“Becky, what’s wrong?”
She looked up, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“I have something to tell you,” she said. “Something I’m pretty sure you’re not going to like.”
Trying not to be alarmed, he said, “Try me.”
She took a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this,” she said. “So I’m just going to blurt it out.”
“Okay. You’re not dying or married or something, are you?”
“No. Nothing like that. I’m just pregnant.”
He heard a distant clatter as his fork dropped from his suddenly nerveless fingers.
“I’m sorry. I think I misheard you. You’re what?”
* * *
“Pregnant.” She made herself say it again. “I’m pregnant. With your baby.”
“What? How can that be?” he spluttered.
“Well, you see, there’s this stork,” she said, trying for humor. “Last night he flew by my window and told me he’d be delivering a baby to us in about eight months. I told him he was mistaken, but he showed me the paperwork. It was all in order.”
“This is no time for jokes,” Mark snapped. “I don’t understand. We used protection.”
“We did. All except for one time.”
She could see his mind working busily, trying to connect the dots.
“What? When?”
“Remember the afternoon of the sword fight?”
He paled as she watched.
“Son of a...” Mark swore. “I can’t believe we were so stupid. Damn it!”
He put his head in his hands. After a moment, he took a deep breath.
“Okay. You’re pregnant. It happens. Unplanned pregnancies happen all the time. But we can fix this.”
He got up and started to pace.
“How far along are you?”
“Just five or six weeks.”
“Oh. Good. That’s not very far at all. You can probably even still get that pill from your doctor. The one that causes a miscarriage or whatever.”
“Mark?”
He stopped and looked at her. “What?”
“I don’t want to do that.”
“Okay, well, there’s bound to be a good clinic around here somewhere. It is New York, after all.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t want an abortion.”
He looked sick—as if she had just punched him in the stomach.
“What are you saying?”
“I want to keep it,” she said quietly. Then, with more determination, “I’m going to keep it. I want this baby, Mark.”
“No. You don’t.”
“Yes,” she said, getting annoyed, “I do. I’m a grown woman, Mark. I know what I’m doing.”
“No, you don’t!” he said, his face turning red. “You only think you do. But once he’s born he’ll get in the way. There will be sick days and doctor visits and daycare issues. You’ll be exhausted all the time, and frazzled, and run down. Before you know it your career will be in the tank. Soon, you’ll start to resent him for being born. You’ll wish you’d gotten rid of him while you still could. No kid deserves to go through life like that, Becky. No kid should be stuck with a mother who doesn’t want him around.”
He gazed down at her, shoulders hunched, and she could see a lifetime of hurt reflected in his eyes.
“Please don’t do this, Becky.”
Becky’s heart broke for the man in front of her, and for the mother who obviously hadn’t been able to give him what he needed.
She went to him, cupping his cheek gently with her hand.
“It won’t be like that, Mark. I’ve only known about this baby for twenty-four hours and I already love him with all my heart. I always will.”
“You can’t promise that, Becky,” he said miserably. “You don’t know what it’s like. How hard it is.”
“I won’t be alone. I’ll be surrounded by people who love me—and him. Heck, my mother will probably try to move in with me. The only question is whether you’re going to be one of those people.”
“What are you asking me, Becky?”
She pulled him down on the couch next to her. “Yesterday you were begging me to give this relationship a chance. To give us a shot. Now I’m asking you the same thing.”
Grabbing his hand, she placed it over her stomach.
“Are you willing to see if we can make this work? To give this family a shot? The stakes are a lot higher now, but I’m willing to go all-in if you are.”
He looked at her with horror on his face.
“Are you asking me to marry you?”
She snorted. “As if. No. I’m just asking you not to slam the door shut. To be a part of our lives. To see if you can make room for this baby in your heart.”
His face grew cold and he stood.
“No, Becky. I’m sorry, but I can’t. If you want this baby it’s all on you. I won’t be a part of it.”
She nodded and swallowed, looking down at her hands so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.
“Okay. I understand.”
A moment later she heard the door open and shut. She was alone.
She rubbed her stomach absently. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” she whispered, tears running down her face.
Funny. Yesterday she hadn’t been sure she wanted to let Mark into her heart. It was only now that he was gone that she realized she already had. And that when he’d left he’d taken half of it with him.
* * *
Mark stomped down the cold dark streets, glaring at anyone who dared to meet his eye.
How could she have let this happen? He had assumed she was on some kind of birth control. That she was behaving like a responsible adult.
It wasn’t fair. Just when he’d thought he’d finally found a place where he could make a career he was stuck working with a woman who wanted more from him than he could give. A woman who was pregnant with his baby, for God’s sake.
The sound of his phone ringing yanked Mark into the present. Fishing it out of his pocket, he looked at his screen. It was his mother. Impeccable timing, as always.
He considered flinging his phone into the street, but decided talking to her would probably give him all the confirmation he needed that he was making the right decision.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Mark, darling, I got your text. How wonderful!”
“I sent that twelve hours ago,” he snarled.
“Yes, I know. But we had a tennis tournament today at the club. And then the Petersons came over for dinner. They send their love, by the way.”
“Do the Petersons even know who I am?”
“Of course they do, Mar
k. They’ve been coming to the house since you were in the seventh grade.”
“Yes, but I was never there,” he said.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You were home for nearly every school vacation. For months at a time in the summer, in fact.”
“Only if you couldn’t find somewhere else to send me,” he said.
There was a beat of silence. “What is this all about, Mark? I made sure you had the best education money could buy. Was that wrong?”
“Oh, come on, Mom. I know the only reason you sent me to boarding school was because you couldn’t stand to have me around. Didn’t want to be reminded of your mistakes after you married into money. I didn’t belong in your fancy new family.”
“Is that what you thought?” his mother said, her voice a horrified whisper. “Mark, you couldn’t be more wrong. Why, I—”
“Save it for someone who cares, Mom. I gave up a long time ago.”
It wasn’t until he hung up that he realized he’d been shouting. Good thing he was in New York. Nothing fazed the people here.
God, he needed a drink. A stiff one. Looking up, he realized he was standing right across the street from a bar.
He’d get drunk tonight. Then decide what to do about the train wreck that was his life in the morning.
ELEVEN
By the time Monday morning dawned Becky had bottled up her heartbreak and shoved it into the darkest recesses of her brain. She couldn’t afford to be weak.
She was starting a new job: working with a man who would prefer never to see her again and for a man who still had a hard time believing she was anything but a pretty face.
She was going to have to be on her A-game every day from here on out. She’d have to prove she was worth every dime they were paying her and, pregnant or not, could kick the ass of every male creative in the city.
That was the only way she’d be able to get through this with both her pride and career intact.
She spent the entire train ride pumping herself up. By the time she strode through SBD’s doors she had convinced herself that she could handle absolutely anything the world cared to throw at her. Even a lifetime of working with Mark.
But she couldn’t bite back the sigh of relief that came when she realized she had beaten him to the office. With luck, she could have her stuff packed up and moved into her new space before he arrived.
Becky grabbed a box and got to work. She hadn’t gotten very far, though, when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
David’s executive assistant glided through the door.
“Hi, Pam, what can I do for you?”
“I take it you didn’t see the email I sent you?” the elegant woman asked.
“No,” she answered slowly. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, looking everywhere but at Becky. “But David did say he wanted to see you as soon as you got in.”
“All right,” Becky said. “Then I guess I’ll head up there with you now.”
The two women spent the elevator ride in an increasingly heavy silence. Becky was practically squirming by the time they arrived on the forty-third floor.
“I’ll let him know you’re here,” Pam said. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Sensing it was more of a command than a request, Becky sat down in one of the black leather chairs.
She wished she had some idea of what this was all about. Mark wouldn’t have told David about her pregnancy...would he?
Thankfully Pam returned before that train of thought could go any further.
“You can go in now,” she said.
Becky thanked her and squared her shoulders before stepping through the heavy oak door.
David was ensconced behind his giant mahogany desk, his chair arranged on a riser so he could tower over the people sitting in front of him. But he wasn’t alone.
Mark sat in one of the chestnut-colored club chairs while Cindy, the head of HR, perched on the couch.
No one looked happy.
“Ah, there you are, Becky,” David boomed. “I was beginning to think we were going to have to send a search party after you.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I was downstairs. I just hadn’t opened my email yet.”
‘Not to worry,” he said. “We’ve been having a nice little chat while we waited—haven’t we, Mark?”
Mark nodded, his face looking pale and strained.
“Good, I’m glad I haven’t inconvenienced anyone. May I ask why we’re all here?”
David nodded. “I’m going to cut right to the chase, Becky. It’s come to my attention that you and Mark are involved in a relationship.”
“Excuse me? We most definitely are not,” she said sharply.
“Don’t try to deny it, dear. I have security camera footage of the two of you engaged in rather passionate embraces in several places throughout the building.”
Oh, no.
“Yes, well, that may be true, but I can assure you that any relationship we may have had has already come to an end. Tell him, Mark!”
Mark glowered at her. “I already tried.”
“Be that as it may, I am afraid you two are in blatant violation of your contracts with us. Cindy, could you read the relevant clause to them?”
The woman nodded. “It’s in section twenty-seven A on page seventeen,” she said. “‘The employee agrees to refrain from establishing relationships of a romantic or sexual nature with any SBD employee, vendor, client, or contractor. If conduct of this nature is discovered the employee understands that he or she will be considered to have violated his or her contract, and will be subject to punitive action up to and including termination of employment.’”
Becky paled. “I honestly don’t remember seeing that in my contract,” she said.
“It was there,” Cindy said. “I have your initialed copy right here. I suggest you pay closer attention to what you’re signing in the future.”
She nodded, furiously trying to process the predicament she now found herself in. “Obviously. So where does that leave us, David?”
He took a deep breath and smiled a nasty smile.
“If this was an ordinary situation I would dismiss both of you and wash my hands of the whole thing. But it isn’t. As you know, Eden has specifically requested that you both be on their team. Which was why I promoted the two of you to the codirector positions. However, in light of this new information, I cannot, in good conscience, allow that arrangement to stand. Therefore I am going to allow one of you to stay and continue on in a creative director capacity. The other person will be allowed to resign, with the bonus received on Friday serving as a severance package. I’m leaving it to you to decide who will go and who will stay. You have until the end of the day.”
Becky blinked. They had to decide who got fired? Who did that?
“But what about Eden? They want both of us on their team,” she blurted.
“I’ll tell Eden that whichever one of you resigns has had a family emergency and will be on leave indefinitely, and that you’ll return to work on their account when things are squared away. You won’t, of course, but by the time they figure that out they’ll have forgotten why they thought they needed you both anyway. That’s it. You’re dismissed,” David finished. “Now, get out of my sight.”
She didn’t have to be told twice. She was punching the elevator button before Mark had even risen from his chair.
Unfortunately the elevator was its usual poky self. By the time the door dinged open Mark was approaching. She stepped in and held the door, unable to abandon her innate Midwestern politeness even in a time of crisis.
“Thanks,” Mark muttered.
She nodded.
“Look,” he said, “I know we need to ta
lk about this, but—”
“I can’t right now,” Becky cut in. “I need time to wrap my brain around everything we just heard.”
There was an awkward pause as Mark stared at the ceiling.
“I guess I was wrong. Someone did watch that footage of us in the elevator,” he said.
“Whoever it was certainly got an eyeful.”
“You don’t think David saw it, do you?” Becky asked with a dawning sense of horror.
“Oh, I’m sure he did. The man is a horndog, you know.”
The elevator dinged again and they arrived at their floor.
“Look, I’m going to go for a walk and try to sort things out,” Mark said. “How about we meet for a late lunch?”
“Sure. The halal cart at one-thirty?”
“You got it,” he said, and headed off.
* * *
Becky knocked on Jessie’s office door.
“Come in,” she called.
“It still feels weird not to be sitting here anymore,” Becky said as she entered.
“You’re welcome in my closet anytime,” Jessie said. “Your chair is still here and everything.”
“Thanks,” Becky said. “But I don’t think I’m going to be working here very much longer.”
“What are you talking about? You’re my new boss, aren’t you?”
“It’s a long story. Let’s go get some coffee.”
Once they were settled in their favorite booth, with steaming cups of coffee, Becky launched into the story.
“So one of you has to quit?”
“That’s the long and the short of it.”
“Well, obviously it should be Mark. You’re the one who belongs here. He just got hired!”
Becky sighed. “That would make the most sense, I know.”
“But...”
“But I think I’m just going to do it. David will never respect me now that he’s seen me in such a compromised position, and I’m tired of fighting to prove myself to him.”
“What about your promotion?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem so important anymore.” As soon as she said the words Becky realized she meant them. Although she’d been prepared to fight to keep her job, her heart wasn’t in it. It was still lying in pieces on the floor of her apartment.