Billionaires and Beach Bums: Two Complete BWWM Romance Novellas

by Mia Caldwell

  "Then you still don’t know it’s yours. Listen, Tyler, you are very rich."

  “Yeah, I know that, thanks.”

  “And so does she. One night of passion. She turns up pregnant a month later–how do you know who she slept with before, or even right after? You don’t know her from Eve. But she was able to Google your name and find out she can hitch a ride on the gravy train.”

  Fury washes over me. My inclination is to fire her right now, but I take a deep breath before speaking. “Elizabeth. You do not know what you are talking about. I appreciate your concern. I’m not an idiot, however, no matter how it often appears that I am. Kiera is not lying to me. She, at least, believes me to be the father.” FATHER. Wow. I hadn’t even let myself think that word yet and now it’s out there.

  “Jensen is going to demand a paternity test, you know that.”

  “That’s his job, he’s an attorney. So’s Kiera, so if it comes to that, she’ll understand. Look, it might not even happen. She hasn’t decided.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry, Tyler. I just don’t want to see anyone take advantage of you. You’re a good guy.”

  “Thanks, Elizabeth, but I am an adult and, as previously stated, not a moron. So, can we get past this so you can help me?”

  She sighs. Elizabeth has been my assistant for ten years. She has two sons near my age and I think it’s hard for her to see any of us as adults. Even the one that pays her generous salary. “Go ahead.”

  “Here’s the thing. Like I said, Kiera’s not sure what she’s going to do. She wasn’t even going to tell me, but I turned up in court the day she found out. So now she’s all confused. I know I want her to have it. Even if she just wanted me to adopt the baby and she’d walk away, I’d be sad, but okay with it. I want this baby.”

  “Have you said that to her?”

  “No.”

  “Good. That would freak most women right out. It’s going to feel less like ‘romantic, good dad’ and more like ‘Woman, be my vessel.’”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  "Okay, so let’s start with why doesn’t she want a baby? Is it that she never wants kids, period or not right now or not with you or what?"

  “Not right now. She’s 27, rising in law, working at a firm she hates but making good money and gaining prestige. So she feels like having a baby now would throw a wrench into that.”

  “So what we need to do is figure out how to make it so that she could have a baby and keep working, right?”

  Elizabeth makes it sound so simple and obvious. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I think this firm is muddying things.”

  My phone buzzes in my hand. “Hang on, I got a text.” It’s from Kiera:

  Oh hey guess what? I just quit my job.

  That’s great! Congratulations!

  Yeah. Need time to process. Dinner tomorrow night? Zed’s at 7?

  Perfect.

  It wasn’t perfect, it was a weirdly long-seeming time, but I’ll take what I can get.

  “Elizabeth, that was Kiera. She just quit her job.”

  “Uh, nice work, Captain? Did you do that with your mind?”

  “Maybe. Oprah says I did.”

  “Well, she’d know. So okay, that problem is solved. But how did she sound?”

  “It was a text, but maybe worried. Said she needs time to process and told me to meet her for dinner tomorrow night..”

  “Okay. Now, Tyler, listen to me carefully,” She was putting on Total Mom Voice now. I braced for impact. “Leave her alone until then. Do not text her. Do not drive past her house. Leave. her. alone.”

  “I’m not a stalker!”

  “I know. But you are in acquisition mode and I know that you do not stop until you’ve gotten the thing you want. And I’m telling you, you will lose your…prey if you do not back off until she wants you.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Good boy. Now. I’ll poll my boys’ wives and their friends and find out what you should do from here. Until then, lay low. Go to a museum, they’re free! Not that it matters, but still.”

  I laugh, “I still appreciate a bargain. I’m at the zoo right now and I can just walk in and out of the gate as much as I want.”

  “Well that does sound like a fun day. You do that. I’ll talk to you later, I have your work to do.”

  “Thanks, Elizabeth.”

  I catch a ball that rolls toward me with my foot and then roll it back to the kids that lost it. Not until tomorrow night, huh? I could do a month, I can do 30 or so hours.

  I’m not really a museum guy, more into doing than looking, but figure a trip to the Air and Space Museum will give me time to think.

  When I emerge after having seen everything and eaten some astronaut ice cream, I see I still have 28 hours to kill and I’m no closer to a plan. I decide to give up and just go back to my hotel. I’d heard that DC rush hour starts early and goes late, but I’m not prepared for it. It takes an hour to make a trip that had taken fifteen minutes at lunch time. No wonder Kiera doesn’t have a car.

  I pick up a real estate guide in the lobby and head up to my room. May as well see what I’m trying to get myself into.

  A friend from the old start-up incubator days made an app called Playgroup Findr, now seems like a good time to download it. I pull up tabs for private preschools in the area, one on hospital ratings, one for Day Trips from DC. And one for the nearest surfing. I’m not made of stone.

  If Kiera needs to keep working, then surely I can take care of the baby. If she decides to have it. I can’t push her, Elizabeth is right. But I can be prepared.

  In that delicious way the internet eats time, before I know it, it’s after midnight and my head is full of Waldorf schools vs. Montessori, Bradley birth vs Lamaze, How to Tell if a Playgroup Mom is taking Adderall, and Top Ten Ways You’re Ruining Your Baby.

  There’s no way to turn off all that noise in my head without meditation or whiskey and there’s no lama in the mini-bar. Whiskey it is.

  When I wake up in my still-dark room, I’m surprised to see that it’s almost noon. I make a mental note to have Elizabeth find out where hotels get these room darkening curtains.

  I don’t want to just wander around the city hoping time will pass more quickly, and really, I’ve done all the research a guy can do for a baby that doesn’t exist, so I hop on the bike and head out. It’s really surprising how quickly the scenery changes from completely urban to totally rural. As I head West, city gives way to suburb gives way to rolling horse farm gives way to agriculture. I stop at a little gas station that doesn’t even have pay-at-the-pump. The little store smells like the stores outside of Little Rock, the ones where the old man behind the counter would take whatever change I’d scraped together as payment for a soda or a candy bar. I hadn’t really known anything was still like this in America. Certainly not this close to a big city. It’s oddly comforting. Kind of reminds me of the sort of life Kiera was talking about on Aruba. I look at my phone before I get back on the bike. No service. Fuck that.

  I head back to the city.

  Kiera

  I’m getting ready to meet Tyler for dinner when my phone rings. Maya. Great. I was hoping someone would shame and belittle me today. Since I quit my job, that role has been unfilled.

  “Hey Maya, what’s up?”

  “I wanted to apologize, Kiera. I just went off on you yesterday and you didn’t do anything to deserve it. I’m afraid you hit a nerve.”

  “Okay, thanks. What nerve did I hit?”

  I hear her draw in a breath, like she’s about to go underwater. “Tim is leaving me. He got a grad student pregnant.”

  “Oh, shit, I’m sorry. Yeah, I hit a nerve. God, I’m sorry, Maya. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No. Go back in time, maybe? Tell me that no matter how carefully I plan things, sometimes life just finds a way? I mean, I’m hardly even mad at this point. We’ve been little more than roommates since Omari was born. Eh, before that. I had scheduled attempts at conception like I
was running a study. I knew he had a piece on the side, we didn’t talk about it, but I decided not to make an issue of it. He left me be, you know?”

  “Uh-huh.” I didn’t know, that sounded hellish to me, but okay.

  “Anyway. Just wanted to say sorry. None of that was directed at you. I’d only just found out about the pregnancy the day before and it was a little raw, a little real. Why’d you ask what I’d do if I got pregnant, anyway?”

  Now it’s my turn to take a deep breath. “Because I’m pregnant.”

  "Ah. I should have guessed that, huh?

  “Probably.”

  A long pause. Then, “Do you even know who the father is?”

  “Jesus, Maya! Yes, I know. It’s the only man I’ve had sex with in four months–and only once at that!”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just that…well, you know that you’ve had some…stretches of freedom.”

  “Years ago! I barely even get out anymore. Geez.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet. It’s super early. I’m just going to think for now, make a decision after rational thought like a grown up.”

  “Does the father know?”

  “Yes. In fact I’m just about to leave to meet him for dinner.”

  “Okay.” Maya sounds subdued. I know it’s hard for her to just stay cool and butt out. “Does Mom know?”

  “Good god, no! And don’t you tell her! That’s for me if I decide to.”

  “Of course. No problem, just wondering. What’s he like, this guy?”

  “He’s really nice.”

  "You don’t even like nice." Maya’s been through some shit with me.

  “I know, right? I thought it was time for something different. Apparently he’s some superstar in the surfing world.”

  “Cowabunga dude!”

  “Maya, he’s a surfer, not a Ninja Turtle. Anyway, he has a real job, you don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Okay, I’ll let you go. Kiera, I’m here if you need me. I know I always say I’m busy, and I am, but if you need to talk about this I’ll make time. You’re my little sister and I need to be sure you’re okay.”

  “Thanks, Maya. I’ll call if I need anything. And I’ll let you know when I know. Promise.”

  I’ve just pushed the button to hang up when I hear the doorbell. Could Tyler have decided to pick me up? I don’t want to ride to Georgetown on the back of a motorcycle. I just had my hair done three days ago. I check my reflection in the hallway mirror–lookin’ good.

  But when I look through the window, it’s Andrea on my doorstep.

  “Uh, hi! What are you doing here?” I ask, opening the door.

  “I had a meeting with a potential client in the neighborhood, and I thought I’d drop in. Check on you in person.”

  I step aside to let her in and follow her to the kitchen. She always heads for the kitchen. She’s a personal chef, so it has some kind of magnetic pull I guess.

  “Check on me?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I mean, you’ve had a hell of a week–pregnancy, surprise appearance by the baby daddy,” the phrase makes me wince, "sorry, and then you quit your job rather spectacularly? You sound okay in text, but you’re my girl, Kie, I need to see that you’re okay."

  “God, Maya just said almost exactly the same thing. I’m fine, I swear, but I’m just about to meet Tyler at Zed’s for dinner.”

  “I’ll drive and we can chat. I need to hear what’s going on.”

  Andrea had gotten a rare street spot near my house, so we hopped in and headed to Georgetown.

  “So, if you’re seeing Tyler, can I assume anything on the baby front?” she asks, looking at me out of the sides of her eyes.

  “No. I mean, it’s only been a couple days. I’m going to need more time. But I still want to see Tyler.”

  “Doesn’t that make it hard?”

  “Yeah. I kind of feel like it ought to be hard, though.”

  “What, like as a punishment or something?” She looks at me like I’m nuts.

  "Eyes on the road! No, just like it’s not nothing and Tyler showed up that day." I shake my head. "I know it sounds stupid. But it feels like it means something."

  “Okay, that’s fair. But I don’t want you to completely alter the course of your life on a feeling. On a coincidence that feels like fate.”

  There’s a spot just up from Zed’s and Andrea maneuvers into it with city driver skill. “I’ve got good parking mojo today. Seems like a shame to waste this spot on a drop off. Can I come meet Tyler?”

  “Um, sure! Join us.”

  Dre turns to smile at me before she gets out. “This way you’ll get to see how he interacts with your friends.”

  “What are you insinuating?” I ask as she plugs coins into the meter.

  “Oh, I don’t have to insinuate anything. You remember that guy? Two, three years ago? You met him on some lawyer thing and thought he was The One. And as soon as he came out with us, he was hitting on me, he grabbed Sonya’s butt?”

  “Oh yeah, Andy. Ugh. I’m pretty sure we won’t have that trouble tonight, but if Tyler starts playing footsie with you, signal by scratching your nose with your middle finger.”

  She laughs. “Got it.”

  We’re a little early and Tyler isn’t here yet. I’m starving, as always seems to happen when my appetite comes back for dinner.

  "I’m going to order. As long as we’re testing Tyler, I’ll throw this one into the mix. He has ordered for me two out of two times. Let’s see what happens when I order for him."

  I call over a waitress and order a selection of Ethiopian stews and some injera. At the last minute, I order him a glass of white zinfandel and tell Dre about making Tyler dump the white wine. We’re giggling about it when he comes up to the table.

  “Hey there, I hope I don’t ruin the good time.”

  I smile to see him in his black cashmere sweater and dark jeans. One more outfit. “Not at all! Tyler, this is Andrea, my best friend.”

  As he shakes her hand, Tyler says, “And you’re one of my favorites now because you introduced me to Kiera. Well, sort of.”

  “I left a space for you to fill,” she says, smiling.

  “Exactly. Not that I could!” he adds quickly, “I could never fill the role of a best girl friend and I’d never try, I promise!”

  “Spoken like a man who’s been burned,” I say.

  “Let’s leave that for another, hopefully nonexistent time,” he says with a smile. “So,” he says sitting next to me, “tell me about the job.”

  “Well, when I got back after the lunch break, Brad knew that we knew each other.” I figured there was no need to throw in the “fucking the prosecution” part. “He threw me off the case and I threw up on his shoes.”

  "So… it wasn’t so much a quitting…"

  “No, actually, he didn’t fire me. He sent me back to the office. When I got there, I found out I was going to be doing all the research for a case defending a company that knew it had left lead in baby toys. That’s when I quit.”

  “Wow. Well, good. I’m glad.” He looked around the table. “Are there menus? I’m hungry.”

  “I already ordered.”

  “Oh, cool. So, what’s next for you?”

  Andrea raises her eyebrows at me. So far, so good.

  “I called my headhunter as soon as I got home. I’ve got an interview tomorrow for a job with the Orphan’s Court in PG County.”

  “What?” Tyler asks.

  “Oh, Prince George’s. We all call it PG.”

  "No, the other thing. Orphan’s court? What the hell is that?"

  “It’s the same thing as probate court. Sorting out estates with no wills, mostly. Very little orphan judging, I’m afraid.”

  “I wondered. Kind of ironic if you get it. Seems you’d have an affinity for judging orphans.”

  Andrea is looking a little horrified and he catches her expression. “It’s okay, I can say that, I am an orph
an. I’ve gotten over the trauma now, though.”

  “Yipes, okay. Well, I’m glad?”

  “Kind of an inside joke,” I say, and lean against Tyler. It feels good to have a joke between us. Again I’m struck that it just seems…cozy with him. He puts a hand on my thigh, right where my skirt ends.

  The waitress brings over the drinks, setting water down for me, red wine for Andrea, and a lovely pink one for Tyler. He looks at it for a moment. “Um, I think this is yours, Andrea.” He tries to hand it to her.

  “Oh no,” she says. “Kiera ordered that for you.”

  “Oh. Well, um, thanks. But I don’t drink white zinfandel…”

  I can’t take it and start to giggle. I’m not sure why I find it so hilarious, but I do.

  Tyler looks at me and grins, adding, "…because I’m not a 17 year old girl. Now what if my parents had been killed in a tragic white zinfandel accident and you were bringing up both the orphan court and pink wine? How would you feel then, Ms. Simpson? Would it still be funny to you?"

  I’m helpless now. I can barely breathe. I just nod. You know how sometimes stupid crap is just so funny because something else had been trying to make you cry? It’s one of those moments. Tyler and Dre just look at me, shaking their heads.

  When I finally get myself together, wiping my eyes and hiccuping, the food arrives and we dig in. I pull off a piece of injera and scoop up the lentils. As terrible as all food sounds in the morning, it is delicious now.

  Tyler’s hand isn’t on my leg anymore–Ethiopian is a two-handed cuisine–but he’s sitting so that his leg is against mine. My whole body is aware of where is is at all times. It’s nice to have the nausea gone and replaced by a far nicer feeling.

  “So,” I ask, “what have you been up to?” I ask him.

  Tyler is evasive. “Oh, driving around. Nothing much.”

  I give him a look like the one my mom used to give me when she knew I was avoiding the truth. “Tyler. What have you been up to?”

  He grins that lopsided grin that makes me knees weak. “If I tell you, I’ll be breaking my promise to let you make your big decision on your own.”