The Pregnancy Contract

by Yvonne Lindsay

  She found exactly what she was looking for in the bottom drawer of her bathroom vanity. The scissors weren’t unwieldy, but they weren’t exactly the compact fine-precision steel of a hairdresser’s instrument, either. Well, they’d have to do, she thought as she reached behind her and grabbed a dreadlock firmly in one hand. A swell of nausea rose from the pit of her stomach as she positioned the scissors and closed her eyes. Snip. There it was. The first real step toward the new Piper Mitchell.

  By the time she stepped in the shower cubicle of the bathroom, she already felt different. Lighter. She laughed out loud. Of course she felt lighter. At least five years’ hair growth lay scattered on the bathroom tiles. She lifted a hand to her head, feeling the wisps of hair that now clouded in a pale golden halo. She’d have to get it professionally shaped once she had some money but for now it would have to do.

  After her shower she blow-dried her hair, combing her fingers through the unaccustomed short lengths. For someone who’d had long hair all her life it felt drastically different. She didn’t doubt she’d get used to it, though. There, she was done. She stepped back and looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

  Piper eyed herself critically. The new hair was certainly different, she decided, the makeup not too bad, and the overall effect with her clothes gave her what she hoped was a smart professional finish. Going back into her bedroom she took another look at her clock. Good heavens! She’d spent the better part of an hour and a half getting ready, it was almost seven-thirty. She’d better hurry or she’d be late for her first day and she couldn’t bear to see the censure or, no doubt, the satisfaction on Wade’s face if she wasn’t there by start of business at half past eight.

  Mrs. Dexter was in the kitchen when she arrived downstairs.

  “Oh, my, what have you done to your hair?” she cried.

  “Do you like it?” Piper asked, putting up a hand to touch her hair.

  “Well, it beats what you arrived home with. I imagine it’ll grow out soon enough. You always did have lovely hair. By the way, you’ll be needing a raincoat,” the woman remarked as she put a plate of scrambled eggs in front of a place setting on the kitchen table.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” Piper said, picking up a fork and sampling a mouthful before Mrs. Dexter’s words sank in. “A raincoat? Whatever for?”

  Mrs. Dexter pointed to a couple sheets of paper and a stack of coins on the table next to Piper’s place setting. Piper slid the note out from under the coins. It didn’t take long to read.

  Here’s the bus timetable. The nearest stop is about 800 meters from the house. Enjoy the ride.—W. P.S. I’ll instruct the pay office to deduct the bus fare from your wages.

  Piper almost laughed. The bus? Did he really think she’d shy away from catching the bus? Mrs. Dexter did, too, by the look of her. They had no way of knowing she’d traveled on far worse than Auckland’s transport system. She carefully put the note on the table and lifted the timetable. She’d really have to hurry if she was going to reach the office on time. With little care for finesse, Piper shoveled down the last of the eggs and swiftly drank the coffee Mrs. Dexter had poured for her.

  She rose from the table and put her dirty dishes in the sink then gave the older woman a smacking kiss on the cheek.

  “Thanks, Dexie. I’ve got to go.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right catching the bus?”

  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

  “You’ll find a coat in the hall cupboard, and an umbrella.”

  “Perfect, thank you!” Piper cried as she raced upstairs to brush her teeth before leaving.

  She knew what Wade was up to and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of beating her down. Not now, not ever. She might have agreed to have his baby but there was no way he was going to call all her shots.

  Wade walked to the reception area on the dot of eight-thirty.

  “Any sign of Miss Mitchell?” he asked the receptionist.

  “Oh, yes, sir. She’s been here for ten minutes. Jane is showing her around, as you asked.”

  She was early? He hadn’t expected that. No, to be completely honest, what he’d expected was a tantrum over the phone that he’d expected her to take public transport. The Piper he’d known would never have dreamed of such a thing. Still, he probably hadn’t given enough consideration to the steel vein of stubbornness that ran down her spine.

  “Thanks, I’ll go find them.”

  “They’re probably in accounts,” the receptionist offered far too cheerfully.

  Wade tried to keep his bewilderment in check as he headed toward the accounts department. He’d wanted Piper to start there, as a junior. If anything would break her ridiculous desire to work here, that would. He had no doubt she’d never so much as balanced a checkbook. Invoicing would definitely be her undoing. At least, he expected so.

  He heard laughter as he walked down the corridor, not an uncommon sound in his workplace—he prided himself on the atmosphere he and Rex had built here—but this was more than usual. He entered the accounts department and saw a crowd of staff around one desk.

  At the computer terminal a young woman sat with her back to him. Who, he wondered, before his body instinctively recognized what his own eyes had not. Piper. A very different Piper than the one he had kissed last night. What had she done to her hair? It had transformed into a short choppy multilayered cut. Far shorter than he’d ever seen her wear before. It emphasized the slenderness of her neck and the delicate line of her throat.

  The laughter and bonhomie he’d heard suddenly fell silent. Piper looked over her shoulder from what she’d been doing. Her eyes locked onto him for a startled moment before dropping. He had the brief satisfaction of seeing a flush rise in her cheeks before she turned away.

  “Everything under control?” he asked, irked to feel as if he was an intruder in his own firm.

  “We’re doing fine.” Jane separated herself from the group and gave him a smile. “I think Piper will fit in extremely well here.”

  “That’s good,” he said, feeling completely the opposite. He looked around at the assembled group of staff. “But does it really take all of you to train her?”

  One by one people muttered something and peeled back to their work stations, leaving just Piper and Jane with him. Jane gave him a speculative look. She’d worked here at Mitchell Exports the past five years and knew him well. She’d certainly never seen him speak to his staff like that before. The knowledge he was behaving unreasonably made him even more irritated.

  “I’m glad to see you managed to get in on time, Piper,” he said, gleaning a kernel of satisfaction as he saw her ears turn a little pink as his comment sank in.

  “Did you think I might have a problem—” she hesitated a moment before adding “—sir?”

  Well, that was telling him, wasn’t it? He acknowledged her barb with a small, grim smile.

  “Proof will be in your consistency, and your performance. It’s not a popularity contest, you know.”

  “I’m aware of that, sir.”

  “And we don’t stand on ceremony here, Piper. Just call me Wade.”

  She smiled back at him. The silence stretched out between them, with Jane standing at his side looking from one to the other as if she was at a tennis match.

  “Well,” he said uncomfortably, “I’d better not keep you from your work.”

  Piper merely continued to smile. He gave Jane a sideways look which wiped the smile from her face, then he turned and stalked out. Damn if she hadn’t held the upper hand there all the way.

  Once in his office he began to calm down, seeing his behavior for the ridiculous stunt it was. Were his expectations of her really so mistaken? Had she truly changed? He thought again about the bus ride she’d endured to get here on time, and the effort she’d obviously made to change her appearance and to fit in. He’d been unfair, he had to admit. She’d stepped up to the plate without so much as a murmur, and h
e at least owed it to her to acknowledge that.

  He couldn’t fault her. Not in anything she’d done so far today. With a sigh of resignation he reached across his desk and picked up the phone, dialing from memory the number of his car dealer. Some points were best made by gesture, he decided.

  Piper gingerly walked up the driveway toward the house. As hard as her feet had become in the work boots or runners she’d habitually worn the past few years, spending a day in high heels was something she’d happily forgotten. The balls of her feet were almost raw, she was sure of it. Her first paycheck would have to go toward a sensible pair of shoes, she thought. The Piper she used to be would never have dreamed of doing such a thing, but she was most definitely more practical now. And if she was to bus to and from work each day, with the walks from the house to the bus stop and again at the other end to the office, then doing it all in reverse order each day, she’d need something sensible on her feet just to survive.

  Huh, and she’d thought relief work was tough. While it had been demanding physically and emotionally, it had never left her this mentally exhausted. She certainly hoped that Wade wasn’t planning on any more verbal rounds because she really wasn’t up to it.

  She lifted her head as she approached the house. Oh, great, she thought, noting a different car parked in the driveway. Visitors. She certainly hoped she wasn’t expected to make an appearance. All she wanted to do right now was take off her shoes and give her feet a soak.

  Piper veered along the pathway that led toward the back entrance of the house, hoping that she could avoid Wade and whoever he might be entertaining. But her hopes were dashed as she heard the big wooden front door swing open and Wade called her name as he stepped onto the wide veranda.

  She stopped in her tracks and looked at him as he walked toward her.

  “I owe you an apology,” he said, the words stunning her with their simplicity.

  “You were a jerk this morning,” she replied stiffly. “I accept your apology.”

  She turned and started to walk away but his large warm hand settled on her arm and halted her in her tracks.

  “Which part of this morning, particularly?” he asked.

  She paused before answering, pretending to give the matter consideration. “Oh, pretty much all of it really,” she finally replied.

  He laughed, a genuine laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and shaved years off his face.

  “Well, that’s telling me.”

  “Is that all you wanted?” Piper said, pointedly looking at his hand which still lay warm and heavy on her arm.

  “Actually, no.” With his spare hand he reached into his trouser pocket and withdrew a set of keys. “These are for you.”

  She avoided taking them from him. “What are they for?”

  He nodded at the car parked in the driveway. “That. It’s yours.”

  Inside she silently rejoiced and her feet agreed with her. A car. It would give her the independence and the degree of separation she needed, while removing the inconvenience of having to catch the bus—especially on days like today when it had been raining on and off. But she didn’t want him to think she was asking for a handout. If she had to take public transportation every day from now until kingdom come to prove herself to him, then that was what she’d do. She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. “What’s wrong with the bus?”

  “I thought you might prefer the comfort of a car of your own. Especially once you’re pregnant.”

  The words brought home the reality of their situation to her with sudden clarity. Up until now it had all been a war of words, but hearing him say it made it a great deal more real.

  “And will you deduct its value from my wages, too?” she said, fighting for some measure of control.

  His mouth quirked on one side in that half smile he was inclined to do around her these days. “No, I won’t. It’s a gift. There’s an account for you at the local gas station, too.”

  “Thank you,” she said simply, accepting the keys from his hands and going to look at the car.

  It wasn’t the newest vehicle on the block but it certainly wasn’t the oldest, either.

  “I didn’t think you’d want anything showy or expensive,” Wade said from right behind her.

  “I appreciate it. After your performance this morning, Jane’s already looking at me funny.”

  “She’ll get over it.” Wade shrugged. “Want to take it for a spin around the block?”

  Piper thought for a moment of the soak she wanted to give her feet but the temptation to see how the car felt to drive was too tempting.

  “Sure, you coming?”

  In answer he opened the passenger door of the car and slipped inside, securing his seat belt. “Well, come on,” he urged.

  She walked around the car and settled herself in the driver’s seat, adjusting it and the rearview mirror slightly before clipping her seat belt and starting the car. She was pleased to see it was automatic. She could drive a stick shift well enough but in Auckland’s rush-hour traffic, constantly riding the clutch would be a pain.

  Wade’s presence seemed to fill the car, not surprising given its compact size, but it was more than that. It was as if, by his very presence, he consumed her, too. Not just his presence, she realized, but his happiness. He was smiling and seemed genuinely content to drive around with her. She was struck by how much she’d missed this Wade—the Wade who enjoyed just being with her, as if he couldn’t imagine anything better than an afternoon with her. Could she keep him like this—or would he revert back to his colder self at any moment?

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she answered with a nervous smile.

  She slid the car into gear, released the hand brake and drove the car down the driveway and out of the gates. The car handled beautifully. Certainly not in the same league as Wade’s Porsche, or the snazzy little BMW her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday, but it certainly did the job. And it wouldn’t make her stand out in the workplace car park, either.

  When they returned home, Wade directed her to the new five-car garage at the rear of the house and indicated where her automatic door opener was. As they walked back to the house she thanked him again.

  “No problem,” he said. “I was being a jerk this morning. You manage to bring out the worst in me, Piper.” They stopped under the porch by the kitchen door. “And I’m wondering, what are we going to do about it?”

  Eight

  “Just learn to be civil, I guess,” she hedged in response.

  But she knew exactly what he was talking about. They’d been circling each other like angry cats from the moment she’d arrived a few days ago. Antipathy was there, for sure, but beneath the surface lay something else. Something thick and heavy and powerful. Something neither of them wanted to acknowledge. It itched beneath their skin with a constant presence. An itch that she knew, without doubt, only one thing would assuage.

  “Civil,” he repeated. “You think that’s the answer?”

  She opened the kitchen door, letting out the warmth and golden light from within, dispelling the gloom outside.

  “Maybe not, but it’s the only one I can think of right now.”

  He took a step nearer, and rested a finger on her lips.

  “Is that what you feel toward me now, Piper? Civility?”

  Oh, God, no. She felt anything but. Given the opportunity, she’d open her mouth right now, draw his finger in and lave it with her tongue. She’d drive him crazy with wanting her and then eventually they’d do something about it, and maybe, just maybe, some of the tension between them would ease.

  “Ah, so there the two of you are. What do you think of your new car?” Mrs. Dexter’s voice broke the spell that bound them in the moment. “Come along inside and shut that door before you let all the warmth out. Dinner is almost ready.”

  Piper didn’t know whether to be relieved at the interruption, or annoyed that she and Wade weren’t going
to pursue his question any further. In the end, she opted for relieved. It had been a demanding enough day so far already. She had no wish to complicate it further by exploring her feelings for him on a physical level right now.

  Dinner was a mostly silent affair, punctuated only when she thought of questions to ask about Mitchell Exports that only Wade could answer. She wanted to return to the easy comfort she’d felt with him in the car, but ever since he’d stopped her outside the house, she’d been far too aware of him physically, tuned in to the tension rising between them.

  Though the conversation was stilted, it was still instructive. She was beginning to feel a reluctant admiration for how he’d held everything together through her father’s illness. Despite what he’d already told her, the other staff at the office today had informed her that Rex Mitchell had been forced to withdraw from business a whole lot earlier than she’d originally thought.

  Not many of them made the connection that she was his daughter, thank goodness—and those who had, had also had the common courtesy not to bring it up in front of everyone else. She was lucky that Mitchell was a relatively common name. Most of her coworkers hadn’t given it a second thought.

  As Piper readied for bed that night, after setting out her clothes for the next day, she thought also of the university degree she’d never achieved. It would be both incredibly satisfying and useful to complete the papers she needed to finish her degree. What she’d learned before she left for overseas was a little rusty in the back of her mind. She could see how having the educational background would help her to grasp the running of Mitchell Exports a whole lot faster.

  Wade might not realize it yet, but she planned on being an integral part of the company. It was something she’d always wanted to do at her father’s side from when she’d been a little girl and finally understood what it was that kept him from home, from her, for so many hours a day. She’d wanted to be a part of it, a part of his world, a part of him. But Rex had never believed she was competent to do more than spend his money. Beating her head against his chauvinism for so many years had eventually done her in and driven her to behave stupidly. Now, inasmuch as she was capable, she was bound and determined to prove to Wade she could be something, someone, worthy of working there.