Rags to Riches Baby

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Rags to Riches Baby Page 11

by Andrea Laurence


  Lucy’s soft heart ached at the thought of his little brother at the hospital without his mother there to comfort him. She was hardly a suitable substitute—she’d never even met the little boy Harper called Noodle—but she couldn’t go home in good conscience. She had to do something to help. “I’ll go with you,” she offered, getting up from the table with her dish in her hand.

  He flinched at the suggestion, making her wonder if she was crossing a line by imposing on his family even after the night they’d shared. Was it too soon? Perhaps his father wouldn’t want her there. He hadn’t seemed any more pleased with her at the will reading than the rest of the family.

  “You don’t need to do that, Lucy. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  She wasn’t about to let him push her away that easily. “I know I don’t need to do it, but I want to. If we can just stop by my place on the way, I’ll do a quick change of clothes and I’ll be happy to keep you company. It sounds like it’s going to be a long day for everyone. I can fetch coffee or something. Let me help.”

  Oliver’s thin lips twisted in thought for a moment, then he nodded with an expression of relief. “Okay.” He stepped forward and pulled Lucy into his arms, dropping his forehead down to gently meet her own as he held her.

  “Thank you.”

  Nine

  Danny was a trooper. Oliver had to give him credit for that. He wasn’t sure he’d have handled all of this as well when he was his age. He’d broken his wrist riding his scooter when he was nine and had been convinced at the time that no one had experienced his level of pain, ever.

  Danny had four broken ribs, the doctor had said. X-rays showed the breaks were clean and would come together on their own. There was no risk for the bones puncturing the lungs. It sounded bad and it was quite painful, but it could’ve been much worse. During his riding lesson, the horse had gotten spooked by something. It bucked Danny out of the saddle, then stomped on his chest while he was lying on his back in the riding ring. He could’ve been killed in about four or five different ways, so some bruises and a few cracked ribs were a best-case scenario, really.

  Dad had gone back to the apartment to get a few things. The doctors were going to keep Danny overnight. The first twenty-four hours were the most painful and where his breaks were located, he couldn’t do much of anything for himself, even raise a juice box to his mouth.

  That just left Oliver and Lucy with him for the time being, as Harper was out of town. Although Oliver had initially been thrown off by Lucy’s request to come with him to the hospital, she’d been a lifesaver today. She’d brought them food from the cafeteria, magazines from the gift shop, and she even had a phone charger in her purse when their phones started to die from the constant calls and texts. Having her here had been nice. Nicer than he wanted to admit to himself.

  Waking up with her, sharing breakfast together, even weathering a crisis together...every moment he spent with Lucy made him want to spend more and more. This was going to be a problem.

  “Can I have a popsicle?” Danny asked. He was sitting up in his hospital bed with pillows propped up under his arms and a thin blanket thrown over his legs. He looked so small in that bed, even smaller than the seven-year-old usually looked.

  Oliver got up from the chair, relieved to have a quest to occupy his mind. “I’ll go see what I can do. Are you okay to stay with him?” he asked Lucy.

  She nodded from her perch at the end of his bed. “We’ll be fine.”

  Oliver went down the hallway in search of a popsicle. The pain medicine was making Danny queasy, so he wasn’t much interested in the food they were bringing him. If his baby brother wanted a popsicle, Oliver would find him one. The nurses didn’t have any, just pudding and gelatin cups, so he headed downstairs in the hopes of finding something in the cafeteria or gift shop that would make Danny smile. He’d hit a street cart if he had to.

  He scored a Bomb Pop, finally, and carried it back upstairs after about twenty minutes of hunting. As he neared the doorway to Danny’s hospital room, the sound of voices made him pause. Danny wasn’t normally much of a talker, but the pain medications had him chatting up a storm. He and Lucy were talking and Oliver was curious about what the two of them would discuss without anyone else around.

  “The nurses cut off my favorite shirt when we got to the hospital,” Danny complained. “It hurt too much to pull it over my head.”

  “I bet your daddy can get you another shirt just like that one.”

  “Yeah, but it won’t be the same. My mother sent me that shirt for my last birthday.”

  Oliver froze in place. He’d never heard Danny mention his mother. He hadn’t even known she was in contact with her son until now. Dad hadn’t said anything about it. For a moment, Oliver wasn’t sure if he should be happy she was involved or mad for stringing his brother along.

  “Did she?” Lucy asked in a polite voice that didn’t betray what she knew about Danny’s mother. “That was nice of her.”

  Oliver leaned forward until he could see around the corner of the door frame. Danny was still sitting up in bed. Lucy was sitting at the end of the bed, turned toward Danny with interest.

  Danny shrugged on reflex and winced with the movement. “Not really. She sends a package on my birthday and at Christmas, but that’s it. A good mom would do more than that. A good mom would’ve stayed around or taken me with her. Or at least visit every once in a while. That’s what people say when they think I’m not listening.”

  He could see Lucy stiffen awkwardly in her seat. What did you say to something like that, knowing it was absolutely true but not being able to fix it?

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Not having both parents around can be hard. You know, my daddy left when I was young, too.”

  Danny perked up. “Why did yours leave?”

  Lucy sighed. “Well, I was small, so I don’t know all the details, but my mom said he met someone else and started a new family. I never saw or heard from him again.”

  “Do you have more brothers or sisters?”

  “Yes. Someone told me that I have two little sisters somewhere. I don’t know their names.”

  Oliver couldn’t believe how little he actually knew about Lucy’s past and her family. What little he did know had come from the file on her the private investigator gave him. She never really talked about her life before she went to Yale and met his sister. Now he knew why. Being a single parent was hard. His father had enough money to get help when he needed it, never having to worry about bills or childcare, but the average mother on her own had no one to depend on but herself.

  He imagined that drove Lucy to work even harder at everything she did. Getting into Yale was no easy feat, and getting a scholarship to cover most of the sky-high tuition was near impossible. He knew that having to drop out when she couldn’t afford the tuition had to hurt. Being the companion of a wealthy old woman probably hadn’t been her goal in life, but then again, that detour could very well make her richer than any Yale degree ever could.

  “I just have Oliver and Harper,” Danny said. “I’ve heard people say that’s because my mom learned her lesson with me. I was a lot of work and I ruined her body, she said. She got her shoes tied after I was born.”

  “Do you mean she got her tubes tied?” Lucy asked, stifling a chuckle at the seven-year-old’s interpretation of the story he’d heard.

  “That’s it. I think.” Danny sat thoughtfully for a minute, gazing down at the IV in his hand. “I’m sorry about your dad, Lucy. I guess my mom could be a lot worse. At least she sends nice gifts. She can afford to though, since she’s married to a super-rich guy in California. I heard the housekeeper say that the guy invented a thing that’s in every smartphone in the world. She wasted all of Daddy’s money in just a few years, but I think it will take her a lot longer to spend all of the new guy’s money.”

  Oliver was surprised to listen
to how much his brother knew about Candace. He was young, but perhaps he wasn’t as sheltered as Oliver thought. It sounded as though the grown-ups around him had the habit of talking about Candace as though Danny were too young to understand what they were saying. The knowledge seemed to steal a touch of his innocence too soon, but perhaps the truth wouldn’t be as crushing as if he’d learned it all later. He was a smart, savvy little boy. Much more than Oliver gave him credit for.

  He was also amazed at how deftly Lucy handled Danny. She was such a caring person, so unlike Candace. In a moment, she’d shifted the discussion away from bad parents and had Danny chatting animatedly about his favorite video game. Any bad emotions roused by their talk faded away as he prattled on about trolls and secret passages. Danny loved playing on any kind of gadget and would happily sit and get lost in a game for hours on end. Considering his family owned one of the largest computer companies in the world, it was probably in his blood.

  Dad had actually forced Danny to take the riding lessons to get him out of the house. That had backfired a little, considering it had landed him in the hospital, but at least it had given him something to do that didn’t entail cheat codes and warlocks. The next week of his recovery would be spent playing his game the moment he could hold up his own controller.

  Lucy listened to him speak as though it were the most interesting conversation she’d ever had. She had that ability, that way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room. The most important thing in her life. No wonder Alice had been so taken with her. And Harper. And now, Danny, too. She was like a planet swirling around in space and pulling everyone else into her orbit.

  He realized he was tired of fighting to escape her pull. The conversation they’d had in the late hours the night before had been enlightening for him. Danny’s accident had occupied his mind for most of the day, but when he had a quiet moment, his thoughts always returned to Lucy. He had judged her unfairly. If he set all his prejudgments aside, he had no reason not to let himself fall head over heels for this woman. It was a leap he’d never risked taking before and he wasn’t sure he was ready to do it yet.

  But he could feel it coming. Before too long, the solid ground beneath him would crumble and he would have no choice but to fall hard for Lucy Campbell.

  Oliver was startled from his thoughts by the drip of the popsicle onto his hand through a hole in the wrapper. He couldn’t stand out in the hallway forever. Instead, he rounded the corner as though he’d just returned and presented the prize to the grinning little boy waiting for it.

  * * *

  After closing out the weekend at the hospital, the following workweek seemed to fly by. Lucy spent almost every evening with Oliver, returning to the apartment on Fifth Avenue when he left for work in the morning. During the day, she looked at apartments near Yale online and plotted out an itinerary for the trip she and Harper were taking up there the following weekend.

  In all the time Oliver and Lucy spent together, they existed in a protective bubble—neither of them mentioning the fact that Alice’s will was still pending a decision from the judge. They simply didn’t talk about it, like an elephant in the room that they kept their backs to.

  At this point, Lucy thought for sure that he should trust her enough to know she had nothing to do with the change in the will. And yet she didn’t ask him to withdraw the protest and he didn’t offer. They just carried on with their relationship as though the explosive events that brought them together initially never happened.

  It lingered in the back of Lucy’s mind, but at the same time, she was happy to ignore that aspect of their association. Things were so much better without that topic creeping into their conversations. She also tended to ignore the fact that she was planning on leaving Manhattan after the New Year to finish school regardless of what the judge decided. She hadn’t mentioned that to Oliver either, and she didn’t know why. Perhaps it seemed too early in the relationship to worry about the future.

  If they were still together when the holidays rolled around, then it would be an important discussion. Now it would just be like putting a ticking time bomb out ahead of them, ready to blow their fragile relationship apart at its mere mention.

  But would there be a better time, she thought, looking through the layouts of another apartment complex. Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  About six that evening, the doorbell rang and Lucy found Oliver standing in the foyer with sacks of takeout in his hands.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. “I was just getting dressed to come over to your place.”

  “I thought we could use a change of scenery,” he said, stepping past her into the apartment. “I’ve also always wanted to eat in the formal dining room.”

  Lucy followed him curiously. “That’s fine by me. What’s so great about the dining room?”

  Oliver set the bags down on the table, revealing some Italian dishes from a place close to his office. “When we were kids, we weren’t allowed to eat in the formal dining room because we might spill on the priceless Moroccan rug. We had to eat in the kitchen where there was tile. When I was an adult, we didn’t come over any longer, so I’ve never gotten to eat in here.”

  Lucy laughed. She’d honestly never eaten in this room either, but it was more out of convenience than anything else. When it was just Alice and her, it was easier to eat in the kitchen or to take a dish into her room and eat in bed by herself. “It’s a first for us both then.”

  They settled at the table, eyeing the cream silk tablecloth, the infamous Moroccan rug and the large containers of pasta with red and white sauces sitting in front of them.

  “Let’s eat in the kitchen,” they both said in unison, getting up and carrying everything out of the intimidating space as they laughed together.

  When they were finished, Oliver grabbed the small container of tiramisu and two forks, and took Lucy’s hand to lure her into the bedroom. “It’s time for dessert,” he said.

  Lucy groaned as she followed him into her bedroom. She had eaten so much. She loved tiramisu, but she wasn’t sure if she could stomach another bite of food. “I’m not sure I’m ready for dessert yet.”

  Oliver looked over his shoulder and gave her a coy wink. “That’s okay. I think some physical activity first might make some room for more.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?” she teased.

  Oliver entered her room and set the container on the nightstand. Lucy came up behind him and ran her hands over his broad shoulders. She loved seeing him in his suits every day after work. She loved the contrast of the soft, expensive fabrics draped over the hard steel of his body.

  He shrugged out of the jacket, letting it fall into her hands. She draped it over the nearby chair and they continued their familiar dance of undressing. It had felt strange at first to expose herself so easily to someone, and now her fingers couldn’t move fast enough for her bare skin to touch his.

  Oliver flung back her comforter and they crawled into bed together. He immediately pulled her body against his and captured her mouth in a kiss. It was amazing how quickly this had become like coming home to Lucy. It didn’t matter where they were, being in his arms was what was important. The rest of the world and its problems just melted away and all that mattered was the two of them.

  “I think I might eat some of the tiramisu now,” he murmured against her lips, “if you don’t mind.”

  Lucy did mind. They were in the middle of something and he wanted to stop and eat. But she kept her mouth shut and was rewarded for her patience.

  He grabbed the container from the bedside table and carried it with him as he positioned himself between her thighs. Oliver kissed the inside of each knee before opening the container and filling the room with the scent of chocolate and espresso. He swiped his index finger through the cream on top and painted each of her nipples with it. Swirling more across her belly, he
stopped at the satin edge of her neatly trimmed curls.

  Oliver set the box aside and smiled widely at her as he prepared to enjoy his dessert. He licked a leisurely trail across her belly, circling her navel and climbing higher. Lucy squirmed with a mix of need and impatience, clutching at the sheets as he teased her. Finally reaching her breasts, his tongue teased at one tight nipple and then the next, sucking in the mocha-dusted mascarpone and swirling it around her skin with his tongue.

  Lucy had never been someone’s dessert course before and she found she quite liked it. The only downside to this arrangement was that she didn’t have any for herself. When he picked up the box for more, she caught his wrist to stop him. “I want some, too,” she requested sweetly and reached for it.

  “I thought you were full,” Oliver teased, holding the box out of her grasp.

  She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “I just want a little taste. Please?”

  “Well, since you said please...” Oliver dipped his finger in the dessert and offered it to her. She grasped his hand with her own, holding it steady as she drew it into her mouth and sucked every bit from his skin. When it was long gone, she continued to suck at him in a suggestive way that made him groan her name aloud with a hint of desperation in his voice.

  “Okay. That’s enough tiramisu for now,” she said, finally releasing her hold on him. “I’m ready for the rest of my dessert.”

  “Very well,” he said, tossing the carton to the far side of the bed. He lay down beside her. “Come here.”

  Gripping her waist, he pulled Lucy into his lap. She straddled him, feeling unexpectedly powerful as he looked up at her with a light of appreciation in his eyes. Lucy had never thought of herself as particularly pretty or having a good body—average at best—but Oliver looked at her like she was his fantasy come to life. It made her feel like maybe that could be true.

 

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