by Tia Siren
I called in to work and took the day off. I had a lot of thinking to do, and work was the worst place for it.
My phone began to vibrate; Jake was calling. I cooled my head for a moment and answered the phone.
“What?” I said angrily.
“Can we at least talk about this?”
“I thought we talked about it. I know what your opinion is on the matter, and I’m going to choose what I want.”
“Angie, I always told myself that I would have a family someday, but not like this. I want a proper family, where you get married and settle down, get a dog and a house—all that stuff.”
“And you think I don’t?” I replied. “I didn’t want to have kids, but I can’t imagine giving up a child we made. You do what you want, but I’m done talking about this right now.”
I clicked off the phone and noticed a missed call from Martin, so I quickly dialed him back.
“Angie, where the hell are you?” he said.
“I was out on a date,” I replied.
“You called out today, but I need to talk to you right now, and in person.”
The line went dead. I guessed he was serious again.
I took a cab uptown while pondering what was in store for me at the agency.
The office was mostly empty today, just a few personal assistants running about and grabbing one thing or another. I strode into Martin’s office, hoping not to be noticed.
“Angie, this is a real mess I’m in now,” he said, “and you know why?”
I shook my head no.
“I got a hot tip from a waiter at a breakfast bar about twenty minutes ago that says you’re having a kid. And not just anyone’s. You’re having the quarterback’s kid.”
I felt a little timid about responding, so I waited for him to continue.
He plopped himself into his old leather roll chair and reached to the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of bourbon and a glass.
“I’d offer you some, but I have a feeling you’d say no.”
He gave himself a healthy pour and belted it back in one gulp.
“I knew this thing would start getting messy. Hell, I got some half-assed threat from Bob upstairs that says he wants you gone. What did I do? I laughed at him. He’s got about as much control of my staff as you do.”
“Martin,” I started.
“Don’t start tryin’ to talk sense to me now. You gotta bury this thing, Angie. I can’t tell you what to do right now, but the way I see it, you got a choice. Either you have the baby or you have your job. I won’t let this place become a media circus over your torrid love affair. Get out, and don’t come back until you’ve decided.”
I stood up sheepishly, making my way to the exit. How could I choose between one and the other? At this point I wanted both.
Unfortunately, it looked like the media had gotten their hands on my work address, as when I exited the building I saw a small crowd of reporters.
One of them looked at me and started scampering in my direction. I was too shocked and confused to talk to reporters right now. I scurried to the rear of the tower, to a small service exit, and ran out and around the corner to avoid them.
I had a feeling it would be just as packed at my apartment, but I felt the need to check anyway.
The short ride back had me feeling incredibly nervous. I had never been the center of attention like this. Normally I was the one on the sidelines, pulling my clients out of view or doing a small announcement for the agency. I had never been the center of something so big.
Rounding the corner, I saw a crowd gathered, larger than the one at work. I couldn’t dream of dealing with them right now either.
I could use a drink.
9.
I had the driver drop me off in an empty alley near Devlin’s bar down the street. Upon entering the bar, I found it nice and empty, save for the usual barfly that sat on the back stool. I meandered to the closest table and sat, waiting for service, and partially hiding my face with my jacket.
The air was full of cigarette smoke, and I let out a cough to clear my lungs. I looked at my phone; it was dead silent. A loud crack came from the back room and out popped Devlin, tossing the server door open and carrying a case full of beer, only stopping for a moment to hand one to the barfly. With a quick look around the bar, I could tell he noticed me at the table. So, he sat his goods on the nearest countertop and walked my way.
“Congratulations, girlie. Looks like you bagged a winner,” he said with a smile.
I pushed myself lower into the booth.
“Oh, don’t be so shy. I’m sure everyone will stop caring by tomorrow.” He took a seat opposite me.
“What am I going to do this time, Dev? If I have the kid, then I’ll be jobless, and homeless. Jake doesn’t want a kid, and I don’t want to make him be a father. If I terminate, then I keep my job and everything goes back to the way it was.”
Devlin pulled off a shoe and started to massage his foot through his sock. I tried my best to pay little attention to it.
“You know, Angie, being forced to do something that you don’t want to do is little fun,” he said.
“I know,” I replied.
“What do you want to do?”
I thought about it for a moment.
“I want not to think about this. That’s what I want to do.”
He nodded.
“We all have things we don’t want to think about. See the barfly in the back? He’s avoiding talking to his son about becoming a dad for the first time. His son is barely out of high school and already starting a family.
“He doesn’t want to do it, but at some point he’ll have to put away the liquor and deal with the problem, or it just won’t go away. You have an interesting choice ahead of you, and you’re the only one who can make it.
“Still, though, I’d fancy you a mother. I think you could be one of the greats, cause I’ve seen how you handle the people who come through my bar.”
I smiled at the compliment.
“Thanks, Devlin,” I said.
Then my phone started vibrating. It was Jake again. I picked up the phone and answered.
“Jake—”
“Angie, I need to talk to you, as soon as possible. Where are you?”
“Devlin’s bar, where we first met,” I replied.
“Just wait there. I’ll be right down.”
Devlin gave me an approving wink and returned to getting the bar ready for the evening. Ten minutes passed and the door flew open.
Jake walked in, and I could see that he had some reporters with him. Bu, before they could enter, he turned around and locked the door.
“Hey, that door needs to remain unlocked during business hours,” shouted Devlin from across the bar.
“Just ten minutes,” replied Jake.
He came over to me and pushed his way into the booth next to me. At least his shirt wasn’t covered in scotch this time.
“Angie, I know it’s only been a couple of hours since we last talked, but I can’t get this out of my head,” he said.
“How do you think I feel, Jake? This decision is driving me insane. And with all the reporters outside, I can’t say no. But I can’t say yes either. If I have this baby, then my career is over.”
“Angie, I can’t stand the thought of being without you,” he said, “and I can’t stand the idea of you losing the baby, either.”
That pricked my ears up.
“What are you trying to say?” I asked.
He pulled himself away from the booth and knelt down on his knee, producing a ring box from his pocket.
“Angie, I’ve been all over downtown in the last two hours. Once you walked out, I realized I couldn’t say good-bye to you again, not like this.”
He creaked opened the small box and showed off a gorgeous, simple ring.
“Will you marry me?” he asked.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. The burden in the back of my mind dissipated instantly as I looked in
to his soulful eyes.
“Yes, Jake. Let’s get married,” I said.
I stood up from the booth, and he picked me up triumphantly.
Devlin, the sneaky bastard, had taken the chance to come up behind us and unlock the front door. I had never been in the center of such a media affair.
The next week was nothing but my face in the paper next to Jake’s in that silly booth at Devlin’s.
The marriage got him so excited that Jake went on a winning streak and became much more popular. With us getting married, Martin had nothing left to say.
I could still remember the last game of the season, sitting in the box seat not as an agent but as a wife. The other players’ wives had started to accept me. Monica ended up moving across the country; last I heard, she hated every second with her new husband.
Jake and I had each other, and in the end, that was all that mattered.
***
THE END
More Books by Tia Siren
About the Author
Other than my insatiable desire for chocolate, reading and writing steamy romances is my most guilty pleasure.
I write about tough and sexy Bad Boys who, underneath that armor of muscles and tattoos (and sometimes suits), are more sensitive and wounded than they'd like to admit.
I'm happily married to a really good guy, but, every now and again, I crave the forbidden excitement of falling for one of the bad boys in my stories.
There really is a bad girl in me too!
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Big Bad Royal: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance
Big Bad Cowboy: A Billionaire and a Virgin Romance
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Blurb:
I'm going to take her virginity - and then she's going to write about it.
Stella Frisk:
After years of worshipping my father, owner of a top fashion magazine, I now finally realize what a grade-A asshole he is. If he thinks he can fuck over my career and our family without any consequences, he has another thing coming, because I have a plan.
Step one: Get my father’s nemesis, Gabriel Winter, to give me a job.
Step two: Make my father regret he ever lost me by landing a cover story in his rival’s magazine, one that gives a detailed account of how his adoring, only daughter lost her virginity.
The only thing is, when I pitch my story idea to my new boss, I don’t expect him to volunteer for the position I’m advertising. I’ll admit, it would be the cherry on top of my revenge cake, but can I really sleep with my boss just to screw over my father?
Gabriel Winter:
The moment I meet Stella, I know I have to have her. She’s one of the sexiest women I’ve seen in ages, and her intelligence and natural writing abilities just add to her appeal. So when she waltzes into my office one day with an intriguing story proposal, how can I not offer to help her achieve her journalistic dreams?
But she does the unthinkable: She refuses my offer. I know I could give her something to write about. I just need to find a way to provide her a little taste of what she’s missing out on without getting HR involved . . .
Turning down an opportunity to take Stella’s virginity will take every fiber of my being - I just hope I've got the self-restraint to do it.
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© Copyright 2017 by Tia Siren - All rights reserved.
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