by Leah Holt
"I'm being nosy, what does it look like?"
The email was actually a lot more simple than I expected. August had three major ground rules if we moved forward; One: I would not have relations with any other men while we were trying to get pregnant. Two: We must appear as a happy couple, living together, and doing things that other couples would do. Three: Once pregnant, I had to stay healthy.
As part of the agreement, he would provide housing, food, and medical coverage for myself and the child. After the child was born, August would continue to provide for the child and pay me monthly until the baby turned eighteen.
He wasn't lying before, there weren't any underlying conditions or fancy twists; all he wanted from me was a healthy baby, nothing more.
"Well?" I asked, twisting to face Kayla. "What do you think I should do?"
"Honestly, and I'm probably going to sound crazy even saying it, but I really think you should do it."
"You're serious?"
"El, you have nothing to lose. If anything, you're only going to gain from this. Imagine, a cute little baby, security, nothing to hold you back anymore."
"Except a baby." Arching my brows, I thinned my lips. "Having a baby would become my top priority. I might have to put everything else on hold."
"Why?" Kayla's voice spiked as her mouth folded down. "Women have kids all the time and still succeed in life. Shit, they have entire families and get a damn degree. It won't be easy, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. Your life won't be over if you do this, your life would just be growing, and in the best way possible." Moving back to the other seat, she kept her eyes on mine. "Maybe this is what you need to actually reach the goals you've put on yourself, something to push you to work a little harder."
Wow, I think she might be right.
Having his baby could be a good thing. And I knew without a doubt, I would love that child regardless. This wasn't just bringing a baby into the world, this was breathing new life into our lives.
"Well, what are you going to do?"
Dangling the pad of my finger over the screen, the thought of having a child was scary as hell, but I couldn't deny the small flicker of excitement that lit in my chest.
Every little girl at one point or another thinks about becoming a mother. For some that thought helps them to know it's just not for them, for others it's more than a dream, it's a need.
For as long as I could remember I've always loved two things; music and children. I thought being a teacher was my calling. Maybe it was more than just teaching, maybe that need was becoming a mother to a child of my own.
Using my finger to sign on the line, I tapped the send button without another thought, and sent the papers back.
"Looks like I'm going to have a baby."
Chapter Ten
August
"A baby, August? Did I read that right?"
"It's not true, Mom, it's just a bogus article."
My mother, as far as I knew, had no clue about the sneaky little clause in my father's will. And I intended to keep it that way. All of this was going to be hard enough without her adding more stress to the situation by trying to help in whatever way she deemed appropriate.
"So, who is this woman then?" my mother asked, leaning against the window in my highrise apartment in downtown Manhatten. Swirling a glass of white wine, her eyes meticulously moved across the skyline, ever so slowly making their way to me.
"She's my. . . girlfriend." The last word came out almost too easily, but there was a hint of hesitation in my voice. I wasn't really too sure if that was the right word to use or not.
In all forms of what the world would see, we were going to be together. But behind closed doors, I still wasn't sure what to expect.
"Your girlfriend?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "How come you haven't mentioned her before today?" Her tone was accusitory, her body language stiff and protective. "I mean, it only seems customary to at least get your mother's approval before you move some fluezy into your home." Tipping her chin, she glared at me down the bridge of her nose. "Do you hate me? Is that it?"
"Stop, I don't hate you. And I'm sorry if you don't like it, but I don't need your permission to do anything. Besides, can you honestly blame me for not telling you? Look at how you've reacted to any girls I dated in the past."
"I didn't react in any particular way, August." Her lips turned paper thin as her voice dropped in tone. "And I'm your mother, what do you expect from me?"
"You always found the smallest flaw in them and turn it into the grandaddy of issues." Pouring myself a glass of scotch, I walked up and stood beside her, keeping my eyes out the window as I spoke. "I know you don't like it and that's fine, it's not your decision, it's mine." Taking a sip, I swallowed the sharp liquor slowly, allowing the fire to burn my throat.
It didn't bother me that my mother was upset about this sudden move, it wouldn't have mattered either way. I could have been dating the girl for five years and my mother would still hate the idea, pretending as if all of this was news to her. No girlfriend of mine was ever going to get her approval.
So why bother with the intricacies of trying to formulate a relationship between my mother and any girl at all? This was actually easier, I had total control.
"Mm," she groaned, twisting her body away from me. "Your father is probably rolling in his grave over this. I can't believe you're doing this to me."
Oh yeah, I'm sure he's really torn up over this.
"Ma, come on, this is ridiculous. I'm not doing anything to you." Rocking on my heels, I gave her smile. "You hate everyone, you always have. When are you going to just trust me?"
"I liked Michelle," she said, tapping her nail against her glass, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as she tried to think. "And. . . that other girl, what was her name? Wait—don't tell me." Her stare deepened as she snapped her fingers next to her head. "Florence!" she shouted out, throwing a finger in my direction. "I liked Florence, even though she was a bit on the excentric side—"
Cutting her off, I held my drink out as I spoke. "She was a model, Mom, not excentric."
"Well, she had that stupid hat, the one made of feathers and beads."
"It was part of the runway show she was doing, that's why we were sitting next to a stage, and all those other people were there. You knew that, you said you loved fashion."
"I do love fashion, real fashion, not whatever the hell that was." Waving me off, she rolled her eyes. "Either way, I still liked her."
"You hated her, because all she ate was salad and tofu, and you couldn't understand why she wore a bird on her head."
"That hat did look like a bird, and it just seemed like a waste of meat to watch her skip over anything that possibly had a head. I mean, you have a head, did she have any trouble eating you?"
Dropping my head into my hand, I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. "Mom," I said, not wanting to dive at all into my sex life. Especially, not with my mother. "I'm not answering that."
"I'm just saying, it was a little weird." Smirking, my mother glanced down at her nails, and began to rub the polish with the pad of her thumb. "But Michelle, Michelle was perfect for you." Holding up her hand, she kept her eyes on the bright red paint, twisting her hand side to side.
"Do I really need to remind you that you hated Michelle too? You didn't like that she dyed her hair blonde, you said she was trying too hard to be the millenial version of Marilynn Monroe."
"I would never say something like that, August." Her lips pursed as she tucked her chin into her chest and gave me an agitated look. "I liked her, and I certainly don't need you trying to convince me otherwise."
"It doesn't matter, because I didn't like her. And I honestly don't think you'll ever like anyone I bring home."
"Don't be so cruel, August, I'm sorry if I think you deserve better than a cocain thin animal hoarder. The woman had six cats, August—six. Four more and she'd be your grandmother." Folding one arm over the other, she pinched the stem of the glass a
s she turned and walked into my livingroom. "You think you know everything, but let me tell you something, women are pigs just like men. How do you know this girl—"
"Ella, her name is Ella."
"What kind of name is that anyway? Was she raised in a cornfield. . ." she asked out loud, but I knew she wasn't really looking for an answer. That was her way of justifying her decision and our position in society. That single comment placed us on a pedestal and the rest of the world beneath us. Squeezing her lips tighter, she jerked her eyes in my direction. "How do you know this girl isn't just trying to get your money?"
If you only knew. . .
"Because she's not."
Sucking down the last sip of her drink, she placed the glass on the coffee table and looked around. "Where's Valerie?"
"I gave her a few days off."
"You what? Why would you do that? Who's going to clean for you?"
Stepping to the table, I picked up the glass. "This might surprise you, but I'm perfectly capable of cleaning up after myself. You know most people don't have a maid." Walking into the kitchen, I sat the glass in the sink.
"Ugh," she groaned, rolling her eyes as if I had just insulted her. "I don't even know where you came from sometimes."
"Me either," I said under my breath.
"So, when is she moving in?"
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? August, this just doesn't seem like you."
Cocking a brow, I asked, "And what do you have to compare that with? Me at eleven? Or me at sixteen? Because those are the only times I really remember you being around at all."
"It's complicated, your father didn't make things easy."
Nodding, I frowned. "Conviently blame him, he can't disagree with you."
"You know your father, August, and you know the company he kept. Can you blame me for being a little vacant over the years? Your father went through women like he changed underwear. Which is why I'm worried about her intentions."
"This one is different, Mom, she's not like any of the girls Dad dated, or any of the ones I've dated. I really like her."
Giving me a half smile, she asked, "When do I get to meet her?"
"Never."
Slanting a brow, my mother's lip twitched. "You really are trying to make me suffer, aren't you?"
Shaking my head, I stuffed my hands into my pockets, and leaned back against the counter. "I think you might have that backwards."
"Well, if you and this girl are serious, then we're all having dinner this weekend. I'll have Antonio make his famous lamb with merlot glaze. She's not another leaf eater is she?"
"I'm not justifying that with an answer. You'll just have to wait and ask her yourself."
Picking up her purse, she slipped it over her forearm, dangling her hand chest high like a raptor. "Saturday, be there at seven, and no excuses, August, I'm your mother, my approval is important."
Nodding, I watched her disappear as she walked out the door and closed it. Letting out a breath, I raked my fingers through my hair, a little nervous about Ella meeting my mother.
It wouldn't be easy, it wouldn't be pleasant, and all I could do was hope that Ella wouldn't pack her shit, tearing up the papers and abandoning the whole plan.
She's going to go through with this, you can't worry too much about it.
Ever since I saw her electronic signature on the documents, I had been terrified that she would change her mind and back out. That was my biggest fear, that and the idea I had to procreate by force and not free will.
If I was going to be totally honest, and by that I mean honest with everyone, including myself, having a baby with her didn't scare me. The idea actually excited me, it drummed up this primal instinct deep inside.
The thought of seeing her with a big baby belly, carrying our child, it gave me chills. My muscles tingled, my heart throbbed fast and hard, and my cock twitched, thickening with desire.
I need a shower.
Walking to my bathroom, I turned on the hot water. Tomorrow was the day, Ella was moving in, and I was going to go from bachelor to boyfriend overnight. Yes, our relationship was fake, but I wanted to make it look real.
All of this was happening fast, I knew it would come as a shock to so many people. And I was ready to play the role of a lifetime, do whatever was necessary to make this happen. She signed the papers and I told her she could move in any time. The sooner she was with me, the sooner we could work on getting her pregnant. Ella decided to move in this week, it was perfect.
The will had made it clear, have a baby, and the company was mine.
Simple right?
There was a catch; the child had to be blood born and it had to be by the time I was thirty-five. But for me, it was important that we made all of this look sincere, like we were two love sick puppies who moved too fast.
I didn't want our child to grow up and find out that they were born out of desperation and that they were never wanted to begin with. Could you imagine being a child and learning that your entire life was just a sham?
The most inportant thing to me was that the baby grew up thinking their parents had loved each other, even if it was just a short moment in time. My hope was that shit would fall into place and the two of us would actually get along well enough to seal the deal. Which created another issue. How?
Artificial insemination or good old fashioned sex? That was up for debate.
If I had it my way, I'm going to take her, feel her soft body, taste her in every room of the house. I didn't want to use doctors or turkey basters to knock her up, I wanted skin on skin, I wanted to feel her pussy wrap my cock.
Getting undressed, I stepped into the shower, and let the water run down my face. I couldn't ignore that I was excited about the idea of sleeping with Ella. The thought of having my way with her made my dick hard and my stomach clench.
Resting my palm against the tiles, the water trickled down my neck and back as I closed my eyes, picturing her perked tits and plump round ass. My cock thickened as images of her naked body flashed behind my lids.
Gripping my shaft, I started to stroke from base to tip, slowly squeezing the tip in my palm as I reached my crown. With my eyes closed, I imagined pinching her nipples and rolling them between my fingers. I thought of how warm and wet her pussy would be.
My cock throbbed, pulsing as I stroked a little faster. The pictures in my head were vivid. Ella's delicate ivory skin, her lips as they formed a perfect O, moaning with each pass of my tongue on her breasts.
Faster and faster I stroked my length, my balls drawing up tight as the orgasm bubbled in my core. Curling my fingers against the wall, I groaned as hot come shot out of my cock, mixing with the water and getting washed down the drain.
Fuck, if that woman didn't want to sleep with me, having her living here was going to kill me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to take it, I'd be running off every fifteen minutes just to ease the pain in my nuts.
Finishing my shower, I towelled dry and threw on some basketball shorts. Climbing into bed, I laid there just staring at the ceiling. It was strange to think that tomorrow I wouldn't be alone in this place anymore.
I had a four bedroom, five bathroom, penthouse in the middle of downtown. Walls made of windows, beautiful solid oak hardwood floors, and black absolute granite counter tops. Every inch of the place was crisp, bright, and sadly, in all its beauty—lonely.
This place was too big for one person, but I was used to it. I found the quiet peaceful, it was my escape from the chaos of the brewery. It wasn't much different than growing up.
I had no siblings, no other family that I was close with. The few people I considered friends were merely there because of status.
Which was why it was important for me to find a woman who didn't come from the same circle. I wanted my child to have a mother that was down to earth, smart, and not afraid to step foot in a Wal-mart.
Life wasn't meant to be about money, and yet, here I was being forced to bring a child into the world to claim w
hat was rightfully mine. If that wasn't a double edged sword, I didn't know what was.
My whole life, I had worked for everything, thinking I was following in my father's footsteps, and all of it wouldn't mean shit if I didn't have a child.
How the hell is that fair?
Flipping the switch off by my bed, I laid in the darkness, watching the reflections of lights from below as they flashed across my walls.
Tomorrow was the start of something big, the start of something that was far more important than anything I had ever done before in my life.
And no one was going to take it from me.
Money and power mean nothing, if I can't have her.
Chapter Eleven
Ella
"Is that everything?" Kayla asked, pulling her hair back and securing it on the top of her head with a few pins. "You don't want this?"
Picking up an old cutting board, she twisted it back and forth, holding it out like one of the models from a gameshow. I watched Kayla as she tried to resell me the cutting board with its large, sliced grooves, and stained surface. Framing the outside, she gave me a big smile.
"No, it can stay. Maybe Frank will take it home and use it." Running the packing tape across the top of the box, I labeled it as kitchenware and pushed it to the side. "All of this is going into storage anyway, August says all I need are my clothes."
"And you probably won't even need those. . ." Pausing, Kay winked at me, wiggling her hips.
"I don't know about that—"
"Yeah, Kayla, he'll probably only be able to fuck doggie style with a dirty magazine propped up on her ass." Justin laughed to himself, pulling up his sleeves as he picked up a box and walked back out of the apartment.
Folding my brows up, I looked at Kayla. "How did I let you convince me to let that ass-bag help?"
"Because he said he would, and he's muscle, we need muscle. Do you want to bring all these boxes down by ourselves?"