by Zee Monodee
She acquiesced, and he let go of her hand. The doctor handed her a roll of tissues, then he exited the room. In the adjoining office, he waited for Gayle Larkin to come back.
She walked in a few seconds later, and he saw his own concern reflected on her features.
“She isn’t taking this well.” He nodded towards the other room.
“No. It came as a shock for her.”
“I know of the circumstances behind her pregnancy. What can I do, though?”
“Look after her. She’ll need much care and prudent handling. Plus, with her anaemia, her physical health won’t be brilliant, either.”
“Bloody hell.” He stifled a few other choice words.
“Is there a problem?” She paused. “Maybe this is too much for you ...”
“Far for me to be rude, Dr. Larkin, but get that bloody idea right out of your head this damn minute. I took a responsibility with her, and I’m going to stand by it.”
His voice thrummed low and barely constrained the anger brimming in him. How could she think he’d bail out on Jane?
“By it, or by her, and her unborn child?”
They weren’t the same thing. He was starting to realize that.
He took a deep breath. “By both of them.”
The doctor eyed him for long seconds. “Will you be with her today? She shouldn’t be left alone.”
He cursed again. “I need to catch a plane as soon as I leave here.”
“Is there someone you can leave her with?”
He was about to answer when a soft voice cut through the room.
“I have the rest of the day off. I’ll be at home.”
Jane stopped on the threshold.
Michael stood when she came in, and she flew to him.
“Oh, no, I’ve ruined your jacket.”
He peered down, and only then noticed the wide, wet marks made by the ultrasound gel on the fabric. Hearing the tremor in her tone, though, he reassured her. “I left my coat in the car. Can just throw it over, and no one will be the wiser.”
The doctor cleared her throat behind them. “Here’s the prescription for your iron tablets, Jane.”
She went to pick it up, but her hand trembled. He pulled the paper from her grasp. “Is there anything else, Doctor?”
“Nothing. I’ll see you in a month, Jane.”
They both nodded and said good-bye. He steered her towards the door, and when he turned to close the panel, he caught the doctor mouthing to him, “Look after her.”
With his hand in the small of her back, he escorted Jane to his car parked a few yards away. After making sure she was properly seated, he got into the driver’s seat and headed towards Chelsea.
He glanced at her tired form next to him, and silently cursed. The deal in Qatar was one he couldn’t escape, and he wanted nothing more than to make sure Jane was okay. She’d scared him in that consultation room.
Once at her place, after a brief stop at the corner pharmacy to fill her prescription, he made sure she got into her flat and tucked her into bed. She allowed him to steer her around, which was strange. Jane might’ve done his bidding all this time, but she had always provided opposition before cutting her losses. Weird to have her seem so much like a zombie suddenly.
Before he left, he sat down beside her on the bed and bent forward.
“You’ll be fine.”
An irrational compulsion urged him to bridge the gap between them to drop a feather light kiss on her forehead.
Her eyes were closed when he pulled away, and with silent steps, he exited the bedroom and the flat, careful to close the door behind him. The door locked automatically, so he had no worries over her security. She had her keys in her bag beside her bed table.
In the hallway, he paused.
What really had happened today? He had a feeling he was only starting to scratch at the ramifications of both his and Jane’s decisions.
With a sigh, he walked out of the building and into his car. He had a plane to catch, and one hell of a merger to conclude in the next two days.
***
That Monday afternoon, Connie Burton was sure she was smiling so much that she resembled a certifiable loon. Seriously, sane people didn’t wear face-splitting grins like this all the time.
Well, sane people didn’t know what she knew. What a great idea it had been to play hooky today with the job and instead follow Jane Smithers around.
She’d just learned of a juicy titbit that would have the world of the press at her feet when she exposed it.
Why on Earth would a man and a woman who were apparently seeing each other go to a gynaecologist’s clinic, together, if that didn’t imply one single thing?
Jane Smithers had a Rinaldi bun in the oven. She would bet on that.
The tycoon and the heiress bumping it. That would make a great headline.
She needed more facts, though, something more tangible than a few guesses.
From her vantage point at a table in a nearby café, she saw one of the doctors coming out of the surgery, a woman, and the only woman doctor who worked there was Gayle Larkin, who also happened to be an alumnae of Jane Smithers from university. Small world, really—so easy to find information on people. It would be a sure bet that the two friends also shared a doctor-patient relationship.
The doctor came to the same café Connie was at and sat down a few tables away. When her steaming cup of tea came, she proceeded to remove her laptop computer from her bag and open it on the table.
Connie had a brainwave. This was a Wi-Fi hotspot, and the doctor was going live on the Net there.
She tried to smile wider, but realized that was impossible.
Few people knew how easy it was to hack into another computer in a Wi-Fi environment.
Now, she simply had to make sure she wasn’t caught, and pulled out her phone.
Nearly an hour later, she was ready to cry with joy.
She’d found one note on the sync diary, and it said:
Jane, booking scan. Today, 1 p.m.
Chapter Nine
Why am I such a sap?
The question had plagued Jane ever since she’d woken up at midnight and hadn’t managed to fall asleep again.
The room was still dark when she sat up in bed. She stood and went about the flat, turning on some of the wall fixtures and bringing the dimmer switches to their lowest level. She really didn’t like being in the dark, and she remembered, with a shudder, the many nights of darkness in the Wimbledon house she had shared with Marenka. The nanny didn’t stay the night, and the staff quarters had been in the basement. She had been left alone on the deserted first floor, her mother most of the time out with her latest fiancé or husband.
Alone. She’d always been alone.
But you’re not now, a little voice whispered.
True. Instinctively, she placed a hand on her belly, cradling it with her palm.
Closing her eyes, she stopped in the hallway and pressed her back against the wall for support.
That’s why she was such a sap. The baby.
Her baby.
Through the skin of her palm, she could almost imagine feeling the thunderous pound of the child’s heart, humming along with her own pulse.
Her breath came quicker, but she forced herself to focus and didn’t let the ravaging emotion grab hold of her. Softly, she started to rub her abdomen. After a few minutes, she could almost swear she felt something, like a gentle gnawing sensation against the wall of her womb.
“Well, hello there, you.” She smiled through the words.
Was she insane, to be talking to herself like that?
But it wasn’t just herself, was it?
She was going to have a child. Behind her still closed eyes, she tried to picture the little being growing inside her. Somehow, she couldn’t. All she could see was a fully grown baby, without making out the face.
Overwhelmed, she headed for her bedroom and the small desk where she kept her laptop. Sitting in bed, she
logged onto the Internet and browsed pregnancy and baby sites.
Who would’ve thought there was so much to know about the condition? She drank in all the information, and paused for a long time on a 3D image of an ultrasound where the foetus was about the same age as hers.
So this was what he, or she, looked like right then. Five inches long, with the fingers and toes already formed, and facial features like ears and eyes becoming noticeable.
Awed, she sat gaping at the screen for a very long time. A beeping sound from her mobile finally tore her out of her contemplation.
She found the device in her handbag with the lit screen indicating a new text message. She swiped the notification and reached her inbox.
Don’t 4get breakfast If needs be order in Tablets r in ur bag
She bit her lip when she glanced at the sender’s name. Michael. Who else? Then she frowned. Why was he sending her a message about breakfast at five in the morning?
Thinking of him brought back the previous day’s events in her mind. Something had shifted in their relationship, but what? And how would it affect them?
How she wished she could talk to him, but calling someone at such an ungodly hour wasn’t civil, was it? Her mother had always ground in her to never call before ten o’clock, even if Marenka broke that rule all the time where her daughter was concerned.
The compulsion proved too big, though, and against her better judgment, she pressed Yes for the command to call his number.
The phone didn’t even ring, diverting straight to voice mail.
Just as well. She cut the call without leaving a message, not knowing what she’d say to him. When they were together, things seemed to flow of their own accord. When they were apart, a wide chasm threatened to engulf everything.
Why was she so flustered when he was around? That question harried her. Michael affected her in a way that sent all her senses and reason haywire. She lost all grip around him, and only the worst in her came out. She’d always worked hard to smooth all the edges and to cause as few ripples as possible, but with him, that wasn’t possible. He always caught her in the furiously churning waters in his wake.
Suddenly bone-tired, she threw a final glance at the laptop screen before she shut it down.
Walking into the bathroom, she set the faucet to hot in the tub and ran herself a bath. Her alarm clock rang while she soaked, but she didn’t bother to go turn it off.
Her mind was focused on one thing.
Michael Rinaldi.
***
Another Rinaldi male occupied all her thoughts a few hours later. Her boss had seemed to be waiting to ambush her as soon as she reached her desk. Umberto all but pounced on her the minute she set foot into the office.
“You’re here? At nine?” She shook her head. “Did the sun rise from the west today?”
“Certainly not.” He waved his hand in a discomfited way.
Jane had to bite her lower lip to keep herself from smiling. The impulse died in the next minute, though.
“What happened yesterday?” Thick grey eyebrows rose with the question.
She had to find an escape. She didn’t have it in her to go into the ins and outs with him. Best to play it cool for the time being.
“What do you mean?”
He waved his hand again. “You said you needed to go to the doctor. What’s wrong? And what did he say?”
She stood here gaping at him, her mouth slack. He was worried about her? She hadn’t thought he’d be concerned, or that he’d even noticed.
Or was he reading more into the situation? He hadn’t brought up the fact that Michael had bundled her out of the office a few days earlier. If she told Umberto that it had been the first time she had met his son, he wouldn’t believe her, since he loved to spin his own tales. God forbid he should learn what was taking place between her and the younger Rinaldi.
What exactly is taking place, Jane?
She shrugged the question aside and focused on her boss. “In case you forgot, I’m pregnant, so I need regular checks with the doctor, who is a she.”
“And what did she say? Are you okay?”
She frowned. Why the extreme concern? Not like him. Usually, he thought he was the only person in the world and all matters should revolve around him. “I’m fine, just a little anaemic.”
His brows furrowed. “You have to look after yourself properly. I remember Olivia had that, too. Could be why Michael was born a month and a half before term.”
“You remember that?” Surprise rang clearly in her voice. So he did care about other people aside from his little person.
“Of course I do.” But he averted his gaze. “How could I forget?”
So Michael had been a preemie. And Umberto had felt concern enough to recall all that. She would bet Michael thought his father didn’t give a damn.
Which brought her to their estranged relationship …
“You care for him, don’t you?” She softened her tone.
He didn’t look at her when he replied. “He’s my son.”
She heard the love in the words, as well as the suffering, and this hammered home inside her heart. He really did feel all that regarding this matter.
She stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell him?”
“He won’t listen.”
To me, he didn’t add, but she heard it in her mind.
Why was Umberto telling her all this? Unless … he thought she was close to Michael and could intervene in his favour.
Under any other circumstance, she would’ve ripped him to shreds for thinking he could play her thus. But today, she couldn’t. They were talking about relationships between parents and children. She was about to become a parent, too, though she hadn’t fully grasped the notion yet. But what would happen if one day, her child were estranged from her? Wouldn’t she try every means possible to win back even a semblance of rapport?
The shattered relationship between Michael and Umberto was sad indeed, but there wasn’t anything she could do.
With fresh insight, she squeezed Umberto’s shoulder. “I don’t really know him.”
Not waiting for him to answer or continue the discussion, she made it back to her desk. Another message on her phone, this time about lunch.
She frowned. Not yet nine thirty. What was Michael playing at?
The two of them were overdue for a conversation, though, and when noon rolled in, she couldn’t keep hanging out with indecision. What would the future spell for them and their incongruous partnership? How would it all take place? What to tell the world?
How to live with everything and not go bonkers?
They needed to talk, full stop.
She dialled his number, but it went straight to voice mail once more. She couldn’t stall again, so she took a deep breath and called his office. She’d have to face Rory sooner or later.
“Rory, good afternoon. It’s Jane Smithers. I need to talk to Michael.”
“Oh, um, hello, mam.”
Mam? What was she now, the Queen? He’d always called her Jane.
That’s before he saw you in bedroom clothes in his boss’ house on a weekend.
“Rory? Where’s Michael?”
“Oh, um, didn’t he tell you? He’s, um, away.”
O-kay. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She was a PA, and she knew when PAs were being evasive.
Putting on her most authoritative voice, the one she reserved for use on Umberto on really tough days, she tried again. “Where. Is. Michael?”
She heard Rory almost drop the phone on the other end.
“Um, Qatar, mam.”
So that’s what he’d meant yesterday. It was starting to make sense now. “He had to be there on Sunday itself, right?”
“Um, yes.”
“Thank you very much, Rory. Have a good day.”
Rory mumbled something, and she choked back a laugh. Poor bloke. He thought she was his boss’ mistress. Hadn’t he
dealt with such a situation before? If not, that meant Michael didn’t have regular girlfriends—
Stop it! That wasn’t an avenue she should even contemplate.
Sitting back in her chair, she thought back to everything that had taken place since Sunday. It all made sense now. Michael working from home, being so taken by his job that he was barely civil to her. Then she didn’t hear from him, and finally his appearance, and disappearance, yesterday after the visit to the doctor. His messages were also four hours early, because of the time difference. He probably sent her a text when he himself was going to eat.
He’d fitted his whole existence around her. What did that say of him, and his ‘commitment’ to her and the baby, if it could be termed that?
A smile crept up her face, and she gave in and let the warm feeling engulf her. Pulling out her mobile, she quickly typed a message and sent it.
Thx, 4 evrythin! Didn’t 4get the tablets!
Life would be good. She just needed to have faith. And trust.
***
Jane was coming out of the shower the next morning when the incessant pounding on her front door made her stop in her tracks.
“Jaaaaaane!”
Oh, no. She groaned. What time was it? A glance at the antique clock on a demi-console in the hallway showed half past six. Ilyanka was awake at this time? Unless she hadn’t gone to bed yet.
Another ear-splitting shriek came along. She better let the girl in so the rest of the building wouldn’t go deaf in the next thirty seconds.
She pulled the panel open. “What?”
“You’ll never believe this. You’re front page news!”
Ilyanka jumped into the flat and all but rabbit-hopped into the front room in her excitement. Jane was about to close the door when Ileana appeared in skimpy baby-doll pyjamas that probably came straight from La Senza.
“Hey, Jane.” She brushed past and into the flat, too, on the trail of her sister. “What is it, Yan, that you woke me when I’ve just been to bed?”
Jane wanted to know, too. Still clad in a towel with her hair in wet locks around her face, she sighed and made it into the front room. What on Earth were these two on about now?