The atmosphere was icy in the limo as it drove back to the office. Amy had barely spoken since they'd hit Fifth Avenue traffic.
'You really think Gray's Papaya was the best venue to tell me you want me to have your child?' she asked, abruptly.
John coughed nervously. 'Well... Yeah. Who doesn't love a hot dog? Where did you think I was gonna ask, Sbarro?'
'John, I'm not joking around. This is serious.' She played with her phone, refusing to meet his eyes.
'OK, I'm sorry. I should have handled that better, clearly. But look, I'm deadly serious. Look at my serious face. Amy, I want you to have my child.'
Despite herself, Amy couldn't help wanting to smile at John's mock serious expression. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn't joking. She also knew him well enough to know that he couldn't do serious. He always hid behind humor when things got real.
'So why me? There must be a million women out there just desperate to play host to John Trent MkII. What's so special about me?'
John smiled. 'Amy, what isn't special about you? You're smart, loyal, funny... not to mention beautiful. Besides, you've been taking care of me for three years, and you've never once cheated on your expenses. I checked. More than anyone else in the world, I can trust you.'
He rapped on the glass partition behind the driver, indicating that he wanted to get off at his apartment. 'Look, just... think about it, OK? I'm not asking you to marry me, or even go on a date. Well, maybe we should go on a date. I have to go to Caracas in the morning, and I'll be gone three days. Have an answer for me when I get back?'
Amy still wanted to kick him out of the car and watch him get run over by a bike courier, but she nodded stiffly. 'OK, I'll think about it.'
He'd already begun to get out of the car, which had drawn to the front of his apartment west of the park. 'Excellent! Hasta Jueves!'
The car began to pull away again, and Amy sat deep in thought as she watched John chat animatedly with his doorman. She didn't know what to think. She'd been blindsided by John's request, but that wasn't the reason she'd been so annoyed. While there were many, many good reasons to refuse to have a child with that reckless, impulsive man, the biggest was that for two years now she'd known she was madly in love with him.
She'd first realized her feelings when she'd flown to Ulaanbaatar to collect him after an ill-fated solo trek across the Gobi Desert at the height of summer. He'd been near death when she reached the run-down hospital in the Mongolian capital, dehydrated and severely sunburned. The doctors were surprised he'd survived, and she was told it was touch and go whether he'd live to see the morning.
Amy had cried at his bedside all night, desperately willing him to wake up from his deep sleep. He'd been put under to shield him from the pain of his burns, but he should have woken already. Finally, just as the sun began to rise the following morning, John opened his eyes. He smiled through cracked, pale lips, and his first whispered words on seeing Amy were 'You look like hell. What happened to you?'
Since then she'd struggled to keep her feelings from coming to the surface. She didn't want to be just another in the endless roster of models and starlets who landed in his bed. She didn't want to be just another notch among many on his bedpost (and she knew he really did carve notches, where he thought nobody would look). Most of all she didn't want to jeopardize what she had with John. She was terrified that admitting her feelings towards him would change their relationship. The easy laughter between the two of them might fade away, become awkward. She couldn't bear to lose that connection.
This, though, was something she'd never even come close to considering. To have John's child... It was beyond absurd. What if he met some girl next year, five, ten years from now, fell in love and suddenly had no need for her and her baby? What if things turned sour between them? What if... what if?
The arguments against the idea piled high. It was ridiculous, unnatural and just another of the impulsive, poorly thought out decisions that had made John's personal life what it was.
Even so, she couldn't help but be attracted to the idea...
Chapter Six
'So what do you think? Wanna make a baby?'
Those were his first words as he arrived at the private terminal. John had flown himself back from Venezuela overnight and asked Amy to meet him off the plane. Amy stared at him for a moment, watching his expression. Beyond the signature grin she thought she could see something else. Hope? Desire, perhaps?
She sighed. 'I want to talk about this more before we do anything. I'm not promising anything, but if I decide to do it I'd want some serious ground rules.'
John smiled, pulling a manila folder from his briefcase. 'I agree. I took the liberty of asking Arn to draw up a contract for this very eventuality.' He held out the folder to her.
'You told Arn? Jesus, John! What were you thinking?' Amy snatched the folder angrily, preparing to throw it in the trash.
'Relax,' he grinned. 'I told him it was for a Venezuelan prostitute I picked up in Caracas. Arn suspects nothing.'
She fell heavily into the passenger seat of the Mercedes as John slid behind the wheel, and as he roared from the hangar she pulled out the single sheet of paper.
I hereby agree to carry the child of John Joseph Trent to term. I relinquish all rights of custody over the product of any union, and waive any right to the estate of John Joseph Trent upon his death.
The full estate of John Joseph Trent will pass to his heir, as detailed in a valid and legal Last Will and Testament.
The compensation for services rendered will be one million dollars per annum, with one million dollars per annum to be placed in trust for the child to be released on his/her twenty first birthday.
Amy quickly read the brief contract, and flipped the paper over to check for more. 'You say Arn drafted this? It doesn't look up to his usual standard.' Arn was famous for drafting contracts so dense and complex that he could hide any clause or exception in them at will, secure in the knowledge that no lawyer could ever read and understand more than half of the words.
John glanced over at her. 'Huh? No, actually, I wrote it. Arn wouldn't stop yelling, so I just distilled his gist, if you will, and jotted down the key points. I removed all the swearing, you'll note.'
Amy opened the window and allowed the wind to carry the contract far, far away. 'OK, no contracts. Look, John, if you're serious about this... well, I'm sure I'll live to regret it, but I'm on board. One thing, though. Joint custody, OK? This won't be your child. It'll be ours.'
John pulled over to the side of the freeway, skidding on the gravel verge and causing traffic to brake dangerously behind them. 'You're serious? That's great! I promise you won't regret this.'
To Amy's surprise he leaned in for a kiss, long and deep. He'd never kissed her before. Not even a peck on the cheek. She pulled away, flushed and dizzy. 'Wow, OK. Let's have more of that.' She looked at her watch, struggling to tell the time through the spots flashing in front of her eyes. 'OK, we have three hours before your meeting with Toyota. I'm ovulating right now, so if you want to get started before I lose my nerve we'd better head straight to your place. Deal?'
John glanced in his rear view at the flashing lights pulling in behind his illegally parked Mercedes. 'Deal. Though I may have to take a rain check on the sex. I think I'm about to get arrested.'
Chapter Seven
The cop had allowed John to go without a ticket once he'd recognized him. Amy had smiled as the cop gushed. John always got shy when he met a fan, and despite his brash, loud exterior these private moments one on one with the public always brought out the timid little boy, desperate for approval.
The trooper had insisted on taking a picture using a cell phone John had designed, and John quickly asked for his address so he could send him the latest model a month before it went on sale. Naturally the cop had refused to take a gift, but Amy knew John would find a way to get it to him. He loved doing things like that.
Now they were back at his apa
rtment, pulling into the underground garage. John only owned the penthouse suite, but he'd bought an entire floor in the basement to store two dozen of his favorite cars. Amy never tired of seeing his toys, all waxed and shiny under the artfully arranged lights.
Since pulling off the freeway and into the city John had been uncharacteristically quiet, fidgeting with the aircon and scanning through the stations on the radio. These quiet moments were rare in a man so full of nervous energy that he'd often forget to sleep for days on end.
Amy suspected he was just now understanding the gravity of what was about to happen. Not that they were going to try to conceive a child; that was too serious to ever break through John's irritatingly strong defensive walls. She knew he'd never be able to talk about the baby with anything but his usual humor.
No, what he seemed to be concerned about was the sex itself. Amy had seen similar behavior around former girlfriends of his, as the scars of John's past showed through his confident demeanor Beyond the jokes, the wealth and the toys he used to disguise his insecurities he was still just a kid at heart, just as he'd been while chatting with the cop. He was a frightened, timid boy standing in front of the class, hoping against hope that... well, that he didn't wet his pants or accidentally call the teacher 'mommy'.
John swiped his key card to gain entry to the private elevator that ran only between this floor and the penthouse, opening onto the vast living room that was twice the size of the average New York apartment. Amy had always been quite happy enough in her small studio, but she never tired of seeing the opulence of the penthouse. Now, though, as she took John's hand and watched the electronic display running up to 'P', some of his nervousness rubbed off on her.
What am I doing? Why did I agree to this? She knew this was a bad idea. She'd known from the moment he'd first mentioned it days ago. She also knew how she'd felt when he'd kissed her back in the car, and that was the only thing driving her forward. But what's he really feeling? Despite knowing him better than anyone she knew it was impossible to get an accurate read on John's true emotions. They were buried so deep beneath the surface that it was rare for them to come into the daylight.
The elevator beeped and smoothly came to a halt, and the door slid open to reveal the penthouse. As usual, the sight took Amy's breath away, and for a moment she couldn't think about anything but the vast space before her.
John had left the suite mostly as the previous owner had decorated it, all dark wood paneling and Chesterfield sofas, and on the surface it looked so much like a rich, luxurious London private club you could almost smell the pipe smoke. John didn't care at all about the decor, but Amy knew he'd installed a few gadgets here and there. Behind the wall at the far end of the room, for instance, sat an enormous flat screen John had shipped from Japan. The 100" high definition TV would appear as if by magic from behind hunting prints and a decommissioned fireplace.
Amy also knew, and this was something John tried to keep to himself, that the fireplace contained pretty much every games system since the Commodore 64 in hidden recesses, and the bank of leather bound books beside it hid a second bookshelf filled with every new release. Every few weeks John would work a 'private day' into his schedule, claiming to be flying his plane or jumping from the Chrysler Building, but what he was really doing was sitting in his man cave playing HALO.
Amy snapped out of her reverie to notice that she was still standing in the elevator. John stood just outside, looking back at her. 'So... shall we go through through to the bedroom?'
Amy swallowed nervously. 'I think I need a drink first.' She walked over towards the floor to ceiling windows that opened onto the enormous terrace, stepping out from the cool breeze of the aircon to the warm June sun. Just beyond the door was a minibar hidden in the base of a fountain, and she pulled out a bottle of John's favorite scotch, pouring for both of them.
'Are we crazy?' she hadn't meant the question to come out, but she needed to hear something from John before they went through with this. 'I mean, is this as stupid an idea as it seems?'
He smiled. 'I don't know. Probably.' he sipped his drink and dropped into a steamer chair. 'You wanna call it off?'
Again she spotted that fleeting, momentary expression coming to the surface from deep, deep down. He was worried she'd say yes.
Amy drained her drink and poured another, hunting for ice to postpone the moment she'd have to tell him the truth. Eventually she could avoid it no longer, and sat by him on the stone rim of the fountain.
'No, I don't want to call it off. But I have to talk to you about something first.' Well, here goes. She took a long, deep breath. 'John, I'm in love with you.'
For a long moment he didn't react, just sat there looking into his scotch. Amy thought she'd made a huge mistake, and wondered for a moment if she could make the elevator work without John's key card if she ran to it now.
His voice was little more than a whisper. 'I love you, too.'
He still hadn't looked up from his drink, and more than ever before he looked like a shy little boy. For a moment he actually looked physically smaller, hunched over his glass with his legs drawn in close.
'You do? Why didn't you ever tell me?' She didn't dare hope he was serious.
He shrugged, looking up and out over the New York skyline. His eyes followed the course of a helicopter as it rose from the pad of a building south of the park. 'I was afraid you didn't feel the same way. I've never said that to anyone before. I... I love you.'
For the first time he looked directly at her, and she could see the fear in his eyes, the uncertainty and the terror of a man who had spent his adult life in the spotlight playing the role of the eccentric billionaire. He'd met presidents, addressed arenas and employed thousands, but here in front of her he'd never looked more like a frightened kid. 'I love you. I've always loved you.'
He looked towards his drink again, hiding his eyes, and Amy reached out and raised his chin. She knew she'd have to make the first move here. John hid behind so many defenses that his admission had almost been too much for him, that much was obvious. After a lifetime of abandonment, first from his father and then the endless parade of women who took advantage of his wealth, failing to see beyond his confident exterior to the kid they were hurting beneath, the real John was hidden, scared and confused.
She leaned forward and kissed him, lifting the glass gently from his hands and setting it on the ground. His reply was tentative at first, not at all like the kiss he had given her earlier, but she knew his confidence would return. His short, sharp stubble tickled her as she slowly push her tongue past his lips, and finally he recovered, returning her passion, wrapping his arm around her back and pulling him onto the chair with him.
As they kissed she could feel the walls raising once more, protecting him in the costume of brash cockiness he wore to get through the day. Amy didn't mind, though. Now that she'd taken a glimpse beyond the curtain to the real John she knew he was there. She knew she could always find her way back to him.
When she pulled back she only saw the John she saw every day, confident and smiling. The only suggestion that the real John had been there at all were the traces of tears glistening in his eyes. He grinned that intoxicating, boyish grin, rose from the chair and began to pull off his tie while pulling her close.
Behind her neck she felt his hand hunting for the ribbon that tied her black silk dress. She reached up and held her long blonde hair in a ponytail so that he gently tug the ribbon loose. She lowered her arms, allowing the dress to slide gracefully from her body, and stood before him naked for the first time, the silk piled in a heap at her feet.
This she hadn't expected. She'd loved John for years, but while she'd wondered many, many times about what it would be like to sleep with him she'd never really thought about how it would feel to be naked in front of him. In her mind they had always already been in bed, on the couch of his jet or hidden away in his office. Her fantasies always began with John already inside her, writhing in passionate ecstas
y. Simply standing before him, naked and vulnerable, filled her with an excitement that left her fantasies a cold, gray shadow.
Amy smiled as she saw the bulge growing in John' suit pants as he tore off his jacket. He grew firmer as he struggled with the buttons of his white shirt, and she moved in to help him by unclasping his pants and sliding them down his legs. He was naked underneath, as usual. Amy knew John didn't like to wear underwear. In fact, his aversion to boxers had played a part in one of her fantasies, as she easily slid him out from his pants in a seat on his jet, going down on him while the stewardess served drinks.
Now she felt his arousal as his growing erection swelled between them, and between her legs she felt herself growing wetter by the moment. She looked around quickly to the surrounding buildings, knowing that here in New York it was almost certain that someone would see them, and reached over to press a button recessed into the minibar. She kissed him once more as an awning silently slid out over them, casting them in shadow and protecting against any onlookers trying to catch the show.
Unrequited (Books Like Fifty Shades of Grey) Page 2