by Alice Ward
“Don’t,” Lauren whispered as she saw my eyes start to well.
I giggled which caused her to giggle, and then Kennedy chimed in. Little Jackson loved the laughter, so he bellowed out as loudly as he could, causing an echo to chime through the small church.
Soon, everyone was laughing at the antics of the free-spirited child, and it took several minutes for the minister to calm everyone down and start the ceremony. It was surreal. I felt as though I wasn’t in my body, but floating above it, watching my life begin. Everyone in the church was smiling, then there wasn’t a dry eye in the house when Shep read his touching vows. Lauren couldn’t even be upset over my running mascara because hers was streaming down her cheeks.
“I do,” Shep said.
“I do,” I said.
That was it. We were husband and wife. Mrs. Claire Thompson. I loved the way that sounded.
I leaned in and wrapped my arms around my husband. I had to tiptoe, even in my high heels to reach his lips. That first kiss as husband and wife was so delicious I never wanted it to end.
Something tugged on my gown, and I figured it was Little Jackson wanting his turn at kissing time. I turned around, and Lauren was bent over, holding her belly. “I’m so sorry, but my water just broke.”
A loud squeal escaped my lips. I couldn’t contain my excitement. “See, I knew the baby wanted to be born today.”
Asher ran to her side and caressed her hair while she breathed through a contraction.
“How long have you been in labor?” I asked her, unable to believe this was seriously happening.
“Um, I’m not sure. My back has been hurting all day, but I wasn’t expecting this.” She pointed to the floor.
Everyone in the church started to stir, so Shep took over and made a few announcements.
“Today, a special lady is ready to be born, so who are we to stand in her way. There’s a celebration of our marriage at our family farm, and now you can add to that a celebration of a new life,” Shep said so gracefully. “Please understand that we will be at the hospital cheering this little one into the world, but as soon as she’s here, we’ll join you at the party. Drink, eat, dance and celebrate, for that is what we’ll be doing.”
People started leaving the church, and Jackson’s car was brought to the front. She smacked Asher away when he tried to carry her. “I can walk,” she said with a laugh followed by a long moan.
“I can’t believe I ruined your day,” she gasped.
“Are you kidding? You just made my day even better.”
Asher was such a mess that Shep grabbed him by the shoulders and put him in the back of Jackson’s car with Lauren to keep him from running in circles. Kennedy chased after Little Jackson and managed to wrangle him in his car seat before jumping in the front. Then they were off. Shep and I ran to his red sports car that was decorated with cans and streamers alongside the ‘just married’ sign that hung on the back.
He reached over and grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly. “What better way to start our life together,” he said, hitting the accelerator.
I squeezed his hand back. “I couldn’t agree more.”
At the hospital, the lady at the front desk assured us she would let us know when they got Lauren into a room and insisted we have a seat and wait. We found Kennedy and the two Jacksons in the waiting area, pacing the floor.
It was less than an hour later when Asher appeared in the lobby, his face pale and his demeanor obviously shaken.
“Are you okay; is Lauren okay?” I asked frantically.
He nodded, his mouth still parted as if he wanted to speak. “It’s a girl,” he finally mumbled.
“We know it’s a girl.” My heart stopped, and I gripped Kennedy’s hand. “She’s here?” I asked in disbelief.
He nodded again and then disappeared back through the white doors, ushered by one of the nurses. She came back out after putting Asher with Lauren where he belonged.
“She was fully dilated when she arrived,” the nurse said. “The baby is doing great, but Lauren lost a lot of blood. It’s what we call a precipitate labor, and it happened so quickly her body didn’t have a chance to prepare for the birth. We’re watching her now. You can see her when we get her in a room.”
My heart ached for Lauren while I sat in that lobby. What was supposed to be a celebration was now turning into a nightmare. What did they mean she lost a lot of blood? Was she not okay? No one was telling us anything, and that look of horror on Asher’s face had me worried beyond belief. Shep held me tight and rocked me in his arms.
“She’ll be fine, she is fine. If she wasn’t, they would tell us,” he assured me.
Kennedy wasn’t sure she liked the way things were going. She kept referring to her birth and how everyone was allowed in just minutes after Little Jackson arrived. “They were still stitching me up when my mother-in-law was allowed in,” she said. “Something isn’t right.”
I pushed through the line at the front desk and demanded the woman give us some information. Her eyes looked cold and uninterested in my anguish, not caring one bit that I was standing in front of her in my wedding gown.
“They’ll let you know when they know,” she said.
“They already know. They’re back there, we’re not. I need to know.” My voice was growing louder, but the woman seemed to care less.
“Next,” she said, staring right through me.
Asher pushed through the doors right before I was ready to explode. “She’s doing better. They moved her, come with me.”
I glared at the cold hearted receptionist and motioned for everyone to follow us to the elevators.
“Nine pounds, eight ounces,” Asher said as we rode up. “It tore her up pretty good; it was a mess.” His face went pale again. Kennedy gasped at the news of the baby’s size.
“Little Jackson was only seven pounds two ounces, and I thought he was going to kill me,” she said. “So, she didn’t have any pain medication at all?”
I suddenly felt like an ass for willing the baby to come on my wedding day. Maybe I should have willed her to come two weeks ago when she wasn’t so large. The elevator doors opened, and Asher rushed out and towards the room number he had been given. We all followed.
A nurse stopped us at the door. “Only two visitors at a time,” she said sternly. Jackson pushed Kennedy forward, and Shep did the same for me. The nurse smiled at my wedding dress as I entered the room with Asher and Kennedy.
“I’m so sorry,” I gushed as soon as I saw Lauren.
She looked exhausted. Her face was pale, her hair a sweaty that stuck to her cheeks. I brushed her hair from her face and leaned in to kiss her forehead. The baby girl was wrapped in a pink blanket in her arms, already nursing and strong as anyone could hope for.
“She’s perfect,” I whispered, peeking at her little fingers curled onto the blanket.
“Why are you sorry?” Lauren asked.
“Because she was so big, I should have wanted you to have her sooner.”
Lauren laughed and hugged me. “Sweetie, she controls when she’s born, not us,” she assured me. “I just wasn’t expecting it to be at warp speed.”
I thought about Elle’s words — people aren’t perfect. That wasn’t true. This baby girl was perfect. Her mother was perfect, and her father, even though still pale and shook up, was perfect too.
We were all perfect, in our own way. Perfect for one another anyway.
The nurse must have felt bad that we all left the wedding ceremony and let Shep and Jackson into the room. Little Jackson tried to squirm out of his daddy’s arms, but he held him tight to keep him in place.
We all took our turns holding the new baby and loving on Lauren. We congratulated Asher before Lauren kicked us out, telling us she needed rest and we had a cake to cut.
Mrs. Thompson had made a banner that said: “Welcome Baby Girl.” It was hanging on the fence as we drove up to our reception. The guests were already dancing and eating, and it felt surreal
that it was all for us.
The rest of the day was spent with loved ones, sharing stories about Lauren’s delivery, our adventure on the road tasting the world, Kennedy and Jackson’s plans to open a new resort in Austin, and how Shep and I made the most perfect couple.
As he took me into his arms for our first dance as man and wife, I had to agree.
Shep and me.
The perfect recipe.
THE END
Continue on to read a special sneak peek of my previous release, The Island.
A SNEAK PEEK
THE ISLAND
ALICE WARD
CHAPTER ONE
Eli
Lazy bastards.
The rush of a Monday morning always made me shake my head in wry amusement. I stood, a steaming mug of fresh coffee in hand, gazing out the floor to ceiling windows of my twenty-fifth-floor corner office, watching frustrated New Yorkers fight their way to work in a sea of cars. The street was already at a standstill, typical for eight-thirty. But the sluggish traffic didn’t affect me. I wasn’t one of those people who waited until the last minute to get where I needed to be.
After living in the Big Apple for many years, I knew the drill. Up by four, I would dress in shorts and a t-shirt after a quick brushing of my teeth. Then my driver took me, sans bumper-to-bumper traffic, to the building where my empire, Key Ventures Incorporated, was located. Lucky for me — and a few others who knew how to stay one step ahead of the pack — there was a small gym on the top floor, and I could get in a hard workout while most people still slept.
As CEO of the company, I enjoyed an office as large as most people’s apartments, with a full bathroom and closet that held a nice selection of suits. There, I’d get ready to face whatever the day held without wading through the typical NY muck.
Life was good, but I’d worked my ass off to make it so.
As a Key Ventures perk, I made sure my employees were well taken care of, even providing breakfast each morning by eight in the breakroom. My secretary always grabbed me a bagel with cream cheese and lox on her way up, then poured a fresh cup of coffee to go with it, freeing me up to eat at my desk as I looked over the morning reports. Everything ran like a well-oiled machine.
Just the way I liked it.
“The interns will be in your office in thirty minutes,” Janine Peterson said over my intercom, and I groaned at the Human Resources director’s reminder. Sure, I’d asked her to bring the group to me first, but I wasn’t in the mood to make nice right now.
“Herd them out in ten minutes,” I told her before ending the call. I wouldn’t need more than that to do a quick welcome and select which intern I wanted to add to my schedule. It would give my secretary a bit of a break, as I’d move the morning ritual of getting my breakfast to the intern, allowing Lola to slow her morning down a bit.
It wasn’t that I gave a shit about her schedule. It was because she threw herself at me every chance she got. If I didn’t have that hard and fast rule about not shitting where I eat, I’d have long ago thrown her into the pool of women I fucked. As it was, she was a highly skilled assistant, I just needed to find ways of reducing our personal interactions when I could.
As one of New York’s most eligible bachelors, I was used to women letting me know they wanted me. I’d made Forbes’ Top 100 Richest Men in America by the time I hit thirty. Three years later, I was still up there with the big boys, and things were looking bright.
Money, looks, and charisma had me beating the women off with a stick, but I wasn’t looking to settle down. Love was a four-letter word; not something I wanted in my life. Not since I’d seen firsthand how it could break a man — completely.
I picked up the last picture that was taken of us as a family. Mom, Dad, and I in front of the fireplace, laughing at something silly Dad had said. We were always laughing back then. Always.
Then Mom passed away from cancer when I was thirteen. Dad was so heartbroken, he became reclusive. It was as if I’d lost them both.
Gone was the man who’d made me laugh at breakfast each morning before he and I’d take off together. I’d ride with Dad in his chauffeur-driven limo to the private school I attended, and he’d go on to his job as the president of a large manufacturing company.
Back then, Mother would spend her days attending social engagements and volunteering to do all kinds of things for our fair city. New York had always been our home, my home. I didn’t think I’d ever want to live anyplace else. Not when everything I wanted or needed was at my fingertips.
I ran a finger over Mom’s pretty face, wishing things could be different. Mom had hidden her illness from everyone. It was quite sudden when she went into the hospital. After we found out, it took only three weeks for the cancer to take her away. I was in shock. And when my father seemed to disappear too, I felt like an orphan.
Three long years went by, and my dad never left the house. Even so, I barely saw him, as he stayed cooped up in the master suite, sometimes just laying in bed.
A few weeks after I turned sixteen, I came home after school to find Dad up and dressed to the nines. “Evening, Eli.”
I nearly lost my shit, seeing him actually dressed. From the moment we got home from Mom’s funeral, he’d only worn a robe she’d given him for Christmas. Every time I saw him, he’d have on that damn robe. But there he was, showered, shaved, hair freshly cut, and dressed. “Hi, Dad. You going somewhere?”
“Out.” That was that. The only explanation as he walked past, patting me on the shoulder. “Don’t wait up. I have a date.”
What the hell?
My jaw hung open as I thought about this complete change in behavior. I was numb, then I got pissed. Eventually, I was made of questions. How the fuck was he going on a date? When did he meet someone from the confines of his bedroom? And why was he making these moves so suddenly?
He never gave me an explanation. Dad just went out that night and the night after that, keeping up that pace for a couple years. He kept the women out of the mansion until I went off to college. But the first time I came home for a visit, I was in for a surprise. My father had women coming and going. Never more than one at a time, and never one woman more than a few times. He liked to keep a fresh supply moving in and out of his home.
After I graduated, I moved into a penthouse on Fifth Avenue. I couldn’t live under Dad’s roof any longer. It was uncomfortable for me. I didn’t quite understand it. Mom and Dad had been in love, and when she died, it nearly killed him. Then, viola… he bounced back and became a fucking playboy. All that was missing was an ascot and bunny ears.
The whole thing made me think that love was either not real or so real it hurt too much to go through. Either way, one thing I learned from him was that having a rotation of women was smart, and I found it worked for me too. Well, it worked for me most of the time.
There was the occasional woman who’d want more, try to demand more, and I’d have to cut her all the way loose. A thing I didn’t like to do. I hated to burn bridges, but burn I would if a woman became too clingy. No thank you.
My mood was a bit on the melancholy side that morning as I redirected my thoughts from Mom and Dad and how life had changed for me. I sighed as I looked out the window at the sun glistening off the high-rises that filled almost every inch of space along both sides of the street. Everything was so well packed together in the city I called home. Every space was utilized for something. It was progress, and I loved it.
After a quick knock on my office door, my secretary came in with my breakfast in hand. “Good morning, Mr. Reed. I have your usual here.” Lola placed the small paper plate and cup of coffee in the same spot on my solid oak desk that she did each morning. “How was your night?”
“Uneventful,” I lied. The truth was I’d spent a couple of hours doing the horizontal mambo with a woman I’d met in a bar. Then I went home and crashed.
Her gray eyes found me, and there was doubt in them. “Is that so?”
“It is.” I pulled
my chair out and took a seat as she moved to the other side of my desk.
Her dark hair hung in loose waves. The skirt and shirt ensemble she had on was a bit on the tight side, making her round ass and plump breasts more noticeable than what I deemed professional.
Lola shimmied as she moved her hands down the sides of her short, black skirt in a deliberately exaggerated attempt to smooth her clothes. I watched a bit more closely as her hands switched directions and ran up the tucked red blouse then over the outsides of her breasts. In spite of my efforts to look away, my eyes traveled down her short legs to the six-inch heels in shiny black, fake leather. They were too high for her stubby legs. She should’ve gone with a three-inch heel and accepted the fact that she was short, but she seemed hell-bent on pretending she was tall.
Just as I rolled my chair forward, she placed both her hands on my desk and leaned over, showing me her cleavage. “Seeing that you had a lonely night, is there anything I can help you with this morning? I know a man in your position has a lot to worry about. Stress can be a real killer.” She gave her hair a little toss and made an obvious effort to give me a sultry look. “I’m more than prepared to help you relieve that stress. Any way you need help, I can do it, Mr. Reed.”
I sighed. Not this again. “Please let me know when the interns will be here. I want first pick.”
She stood up and huffed, air whistling out through her thin nose, and I had to fight myself not to laugh. “I meant something else. You do know how stress can be taken care of, right? I mean, telling you when people get here isn’t exactly what I was getting at.”
“I know.” I took a bite of my bagel and waved her away.
She wasn’t a complete fool. With a disappointed frown, she sashayed out the door of my office and closed it behind her, knowing enough to stop before she made things hairy for herself. It was my fault too. I’d never been upfront with her about not screwing women I worked with.
After her little display, that needed to end. Now.
I leapt up, strode to the door and yanked it open. “Lola, we need to talk.”