by Maria Carter
"Oh, wow. Are you and Goe getting married?"
"We haven't planned that far ahead yet."
"Okay, well, keep me updated. See you Thursday?"
"I'll be here."
The dark-skinned girl ran out the door to catch up with her friends. Vanessa headed for Ms. Janine. She was packing her bag but turned to acknowledge her sometimes assistant. Vanessa popped in when the instructor was sick and tutored the students who needed it. Some of the pay was stable and some wasn't. But she sure wouldn't make much of anything if she didn't have Ms. Janine's reference.
"How was Florida?"
"I had car trouble and wound up spending the week in Virginia."
"Oh, that's just awful. Can I start handing you off to struggling students again?" The middle-aged woman smiled vaguely.
"Yes. Please. And, also, it turns out I'm pregnant. But it shouldn't interfere with my work."
"Is it Goe's?"
"Yes."
"Will you be getting back together, then?"
"I'm not sure yet."
"You'll figure it out."
"Thanks. And thanks for clearing my schedule."
"Don't mention it. These things happen." The dark-haired woman waved a hand dismissively. "Will you be here Tuesday? I have a dentist's appointment."
"I can be."
"Great. See you then."
Ms. Janine smiled again and landed a faux kiss on Vanessa's cheek. She was off to lunch. Vanessa returned the smile, but it faded quickly. She was left alone in the mirrored room. She felt strangely dissatisfied. Ms. Janine hadn't been any cooler toward her than normal, but Vanessa had gotten too used to the warmth in Hickman. It made the other woman seem strangely distant. Vanessa stared at her many reflections. There was no baby bump yet, but she was changed. It may have been the pregnancy, it may have been Virginia.
Vanessa shouldered her purse and left the building, checking her cell phone as she walked. A text message told her Tom was already at the café. Before she could return the device to her purse, it rang. She didn't recognize the number.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Hey, Vanessa."
The voice was deep and familiar, but it wasn't the one she wanted to hear most. She pressed her manicured thumbnail against her front teeth.
"Hi, Goe. I was going to call you. I just got back in town."
"Have you had time to think about my offer?"
Vanessa walked along the sidewalk, watching the cracks as she moved with the lunch crowd.
"I think we should meet for dinner," she allowed.
"Great."
"But I do have a question for you." It was something that had been nagging at her since his previous call. "I know you haven't had any trouble finding dates in the last week. Why exactly do you want to see me?"
Her tone was dry, jealous, even though she'd meant to sound blasé.
"Oh, Baby," his voice was silky and smooth, putting her at ease even though she didn't want it to. "It's always been you. I only took another girl out because I was upset. I got a new phone just so I could call you. You still have my number blocked."
It all sounded good. Vanessa was still suspicious, but she'd give him a chance. She'd probably give him more. Vanessa was torn. She knew he was bad news, but she also knew she would never find a man like Eric again. She'd hurt him. Badly. Maybe she and Goe weren't so different. And the fact he was her baby's father sealed the deal. All signs pointed to yes, in her mind.
"I'll meet you Monday night. We can talk then."
"Great. I love you."
Vanessa didn't want to say it. She'd said it to Eric and meant it. She wasn't sure she loved Goe anymore.
"You too."
She hung up. The café was in sight. Tom sat outside with menus and her latté. She smiled and waved, but she was nervous. Tom wouldn't like this. Maybe she didn't have to tell him. Not yet. Not until she knew for sure what she was doing. He was her best friend, but it was her life. Tom would never have to deal with pregnancy and the difficult decisions that came with it. He couldn't understand.
It had been good with Goe for a year. It had been amazing with Eric for a week, but good would do. And she couldn't imagine Goe cheating and raising a hand to her when she was pregnant, when she was carrying and taking care of his child. He'd sounded so sincere on the phone. It could be good again. She knew it.
"Hey, Tom."
She sat across from him. He glanced at her long skirt and frilly top appreciatively.
"Glad to see you're getting your style back."
"I wore this skirt while I was there."
"Well, maybe it just looks better here."
Vanessa rolled her eyes. She knew he was happy to be back, but something seemed off.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Are you?" he countered.
She shrugged. If he wanted to pretend to be fine, she would, too.
"Have you gotten any jobs lately?" she asked instead.
"I have one tonight, actually. A live mannequin gig."
"Sounds fun."
"You?"
"Just helping out at the dance studio."
"I'll let you know if anything comes up."
"Thanks. I'll get fat soon. There's a small window."
"What are you going to do?"
Tom's gaze was piercing. He wanted to know her plan. Right now, it was getting back with her baby daddy. Which he certainly didn't want to hear, and she certainly didn't want to share.
"I don't know. I'll stay with my parents for a little while, sort out my financial situation..."
She looked down at the menu. Tom's eyes were on her and suspicious, but the waiter saved her.
"Turkey club wrap," she ordered with a smile.
"Half a roast beef sandwich and a garden salad," Tom requested. "Don't get back with him."
Vanessa tried to look innocent, but she was sure her expression was more like a deer in headlights. That was the trouble with best friends. There was no outsmarting them.
"Not a chance. I would never."
Tom took a sip of his cappuccino and continued studying her.
"How's it going with that guy from Virginia?" she asked, and Tom's eyes narrowed. "Maybe we should stay away from touchy subjects."
He pursed his lips but did as she suggested. They managed to finish the rest of their lunch on neutral topics.
It was Sunday—two days since Vanessa had left. Eric sat on the couch and stared at the clock. 5:00 am. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He didn't understand it. Two weeks ago he'd had a life. He'd had a routine. He'd been able to sleep through the night. Now he had a day off, and he didn't know what to do with himself. He just kept watching the clock, hoping Julia would wake up so they could go to the diner and his mind wouldn't be stuck on all he'd lost.
He ran his hands through his hair and turned on the TV. Nothing was interesting enough to keep his mind off the New Yorker. Although he'd showered the night before, he made his way to the bathroom for another, just to pass the time. But first he had to go through the bedroom. That had become a problem for him. The bed was still made. He hadn't touched it. But memories of their days and nights together exploded in his mind every time he saw it. He gritted his teeth and kept his eyes on his destination.
Eric took his time, but he only managed to eat up ten minutes of the endless morning. He hated this. He'd had the same problem after his wife died—there were too many hours in the day, too much time to think.
Except, in this case, Vanessa could have prevented it. He tried not to hate her. He tried to understand why she left. But he couldn't. All he knew was he was alone again, and she was back in New York, probably living up the single life. Eric had taken her in and given her exactly what she needed to get over her abusive ex and on with her life. Away from him.
Eric stared at the bed again as he reached in a dresser drawer for underwear and a pair of jeans. He pulled them up around his waist, then grabbed the comforter and tore it off the bed. The sheets and pillow
cases came next. It was time to get rid of her scent, to wash away the memories. Vanessa didn't deserve the same time he'd taken to get over his wife.
She'd been a fling. Hot and heavy. Nothing more.
Vanessa sat in the downtown Irish pub that had been her and Goe's favorite restaurant. She was by herself, waiting for her ex. She hadn't wanted to meet him until tonight, until she had all the facts.
Her doctor had confirmed the pregnancy and told her she was about eight weeks along. She also confirmed the bad news about limiting her caffeine intake and suggested Vanessa bring her partner to the next appointment, if she had one. They'd be able to hear the baby's heartbeat.
Vanessa wasn't ready to deny or confirm the existence of a relationship, so she'd just smiled and nodded. It all rested on tonight. Goe had to impress her. It wouldn't be hard; he knew how to say he was sorry, and she was making herself easy. He was her kid's father. As long as he showed that he could behave himself, they'd make it work. Assuming he was even interested in her after hearing the news.
She fiddled with her compact, trying to calm her nerves. He'd support her. He couldn't risk his precious reputation. Too many people—too many clients—could find out he'd knocked a girl up and abandoned her. Or he could tell them it had been her decision to raise the baby on her own. He was good at saving face. But she couldn't think like that. She had to trust him. What was a relationship without trust?
Vanessa touched up her eyEricner and checked the time. 8:00 pm. She glanced at the door. There he was. Punctuality was a good start. His looks didn't hurt, either. He was tall and broad-shouldered with perfect posture, perfect teeth, and impeccably styled brown hair. Vanessa had always gotten a rush from knowing other girls wanted the man she was with. Heads turned. But it did nothing to boost her ego now. It only served to remind her he'd been more than happy to accommodate those eager women.
She took a deep breath. That was not the type of thinking that should start off their meeting. Their date. It was a date. She wore a slinky, forest green dress, she'd spent half an hour getting her hair just right, and Goe was wearing a suit. This was a date.
She stood when he arrived. He smiled widely and kissed her cheek. His jaw was strong and clean, and as he leaned in she could smell the dEriccious, familiar scent of his aftershave. But she found herself feEricng disappointed. So much was missing. He had been exactly what turned her on before Eric. She plastered a smile on her face and sat down across from him.
"Hello," Vanessa said.
"Hello," he repeated with a charming smile. Then he turned serious. "I am so sorry I lost my temper. I've been miserable without you."
"You have a funny way of showing it. Tom told me he saw you at the Sturge-Weber fundraiser with another girl."
"I tried to reach you. You made yourself unavailable."
Vanessa frowned. "You screwed around."
"I was stupid."
"Yes, you were."
A waitress came to take their drink orders.
"A bottle of champagne," Goe said, smiling at Vanessa once again.
"I can't."
"It's just champagne."
She shook her head. "I'll stick with water."
He shrugged. "A glass of brandy, then. Look, Vanessa, you know what I want: You. Will you let me have you? Or do I have to search endlessly for another pretty girl my mother actually likes?"
He winked. Vanessa looked down at the menu. She wasn't sure how to say all the things she needed to say. Her eyes drifted to the letters BLT. She was immediately transported to Tiff's diner—the first time she and Eric had a real conversation. She didn't bother ordering it from the pub. It wouldn't taste the same. Instead, she pushed the memory to the back of her mind and raised her eyes to Goe's.
"You broke my trust. It isn't that easy."
His handsome face grew solemn. Vanessa was annoyed. His expression and mannerisms were too perfect. She wasn't a client of his to be patiently listened to and reassured. She was his ex, and he'd screwed her over big time. He was too good at appearing sincere. God only knew what was actually going on in his head. But one thing she could say to his credit was he'd managed to keep his gaze away from other females so far. That was progress.
"I can only say I'm sorry so many times."
The waitress brought their drinks and took their orders. Vanessa looked at him for a long time, weighing the pros and cons.
"Well, before you decide if you really do want to be with me, there's something you should know," Vanessa said. "I'm pregnant. It's yours."
His perfect, attentive expression faltered. That darkness she'd only recently become aware of flashed in his eyes.
"Is this some kind of joke?"
Vanessa shrugged, strangely unafraid. She knew what he was capable of, but she continued to tell herself a child made all the difference in the world. If a baby could turn rappers and criminals into teddy bears, it could certainly soften Goe's occasional temper.
Somewhere deep down, she knew her reasoning was off. She'd heard this line plenty of times in movies with unhappy endings. But she was more willing to tell it to herself than admit her desperation.
"I'm not excited about it, either," she told him.
Because if she weren't pregnant, she would still be in Virginia. With Eric.
The food arrived, and Vanessa picked absently at her Guinness stew.
"Is it a boy or a girl?" Goe asked.
Vanessa glanced up. His initial shock seemed to have worn off.
"They don't know yet. But I have an appointment in four weeks if you want to come."
"How did it happen? Did you..."
Her eyes narrowed, warning him to be careful of what he implied. "Did I what?"
Goe seemed to think better of what he was going to say and shut his mouth.
"This is unexpected," he said finally. "But I stand by my offer."
"What offer?"
Vanessa's annoyance was quickly becoming anger. Now he was doing her a favor? Maybe he was forgetting which of them had cheated, which of them had raised a hand to the other.
"I stand by my request," he corrected, taking a long sip of alcohol.
Vanessa gave him a long, hard look. He was making an effort. She was torn. She didn't know if he'd make a good father; she didn't know if she'd make a good mother. But maybe together they could muddle their way through it. He seemed willing, at least.
"You can take me on a second date," she allowed.
"If I don't screw up the rest of this one."
He gave a wry smile, and his self-deprecation made her own lips turn up against her will. She took a sip of water. Then, like with Tom, they spent the rest of their time together focused on lighter subjects. She was trying to feel normal again, trying to regain the bubbly feEricng she used to experience when she was with Goe, before she'd caught him in bed with another woman. But those images kept creeping into her mind. And images of Eric, because she knew he was the better man, came along with them.
Chapter Seventeen
Tom sat at an outside café table. He was alone. His phone buzzed as he peeked over the top of the menu to look toward the street corner. It had been one week since they left Virginia and six days since he'd last seen Vanessa. She wouldn't answer her phone. So he took the next logical step and decided to stalk her.
She had to be on this street right now, either at the dance studio or nearby gym. He was just waiting for her to pop out of a doorway and begin walking home or to her car, hopefully in this direction.
He took a break from his stakeout to read the text.
How did the photo shoot go?
Bommer had remembered. Tom checked his reflection in a nearby window. He'd managed to scrape most of the makeup off his face. All that remained was a barely-there sheen that enhanced his handsome features. He smiled. God, he looked good. He tore himself away from his reflection long enough to reply.
Great. You should check out the pics. If you can get Cosmo down there.
He looked up again. V
anessa was still nowhere in sight. Then the waitress blocked his view, smiling brightly—very brightly. She clearly had no gaydar, and he smiled back.
"Hey, there, can I start you off with something to drink?" she asked.
"Water, please. And a reuben with half a caesar salad."
He winked, and the pretty girl blushed. He glanced at the street again. No Vanessa. His phone buzzed.
Maybe I'll come up to get a copy.
Tom felt a flutter of anxiety or excitement. But before he had time to analyze his reaction, a shadow fell on him. He glanced up. A familiar blond in a navy skirt suit bent over the table.
"Hey, there, sexy."
"Norreen!" he greeted as she sat down across from him. She glanced from him to his phone.
"What are we doing?"
"Hunting down and capturing Vanessa. She hasn't spoken to me in a week. I think she's hiding something."
"Ooh, like what?"
Tom had piqued the woman's easily-stimulated curiosity. He shrugged, not sure he wanted to voice his fears. Norreen glanced over his menu. The waitress arrived with Tom's food, and she seemed less-than-thrilled to find he'd been joined by someone. A very pretty, very female someone. Norreen placed her order and turned to watch the street with him.
"So how's the hubby?" she asked.
Tom bristled at her choice of words, but chose not to indulge her gibe. "Bommer is just fine."
"Yeah, he is. I saw that pic he sent you and wow—"
"You what? How did you see that?"
"You shouldn't leave your phone just lying around at shoots." Norreen wagged a slender finger. "Just feel lucky it was me and not some nosy stylist."
Tom rolled his eyes and glanced at the street again, but he was losing interest. Their food arrived. Norreen reached over with her fork to snag some of his salad, but his glare did nothing to deter her. So he just frowned and ate his sandwich.
"So I'm guessing since you haven't talked lately, Vanessa still doesn't know who you're seeing?"
"No, she doesn't. I guess it doesn't make much of a difference anymore. It's not like she can run and tell his little brother."