by Amy Brent
“Ah, right,” I said, nodding. “That was pretty damn cool.” I sighed and rubbed the sides of my head. “I never thought I would see the day where I was complaining about having too many nice places to choose from, but, that’s kinda where I’m at.”
“It’s fine. I don’t blame you. Honestly, I would put it between the first and second place.”
“Really?” I asked. “Or are you just saying that because that’s the one I had the biggest reaction to?”
“I did notice that you seemed to fall in love pretty hard and pretty fast.”
I blushed a bit. “I guess I was pretty enamored.”
“Is that what you want then?”
Something about the way he said it gave me goosebumps. Just the matter of factness to it, like he was willing to agree to shelling out thousands of dollars per year for me and it wasn’t some big deal.
But it was a big deal. It was literally life changing. I was going to have so much less stress, so much more cushion in case something bag happened. I just… I didn’t think he understood but I didn’t think that he could. He just wasn’t aware of what it was like to have absolutely nothing to where twenty bucks was going to make or break you.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think I do. I can already see myself raising our bean there, looking out the window and reading them bedtime stories. It’s just… it seems perfect.”
“Then it’s yours.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he answered smoothly. “I’ll make the call right now.”
I stared with an open mouth as he dialed Pamela back up and told her we would take the place. The next thing my brain comprehended, we were driving back to the place.
“Isn’t it after hours?” I asked. It was seven on a Sunday, I couldn’t imagine that they were happy to have their office open.
“She’s doing a favor for me. I guess we made a good impression.”
“Yeah, or your pocketbook did.”
He shook his head. “Stacy knows better than that. She always underestimates my buying power, so I don’t get shafted.”
“Ten points to Stacy then.”
“I’ll tell her you said that. I’m sure she’ll be pleased.”
It was amazingly how easily we bantered back and forth considering how terrified when I had been when he first showed up at my work. “I know I’ve only heard her over the phone once, but Stacy doesn’t seem like the type to care about what a strange woman thinks.”
“I guess you’re good at reading people then, because you’re about right.”
“Well, I usually am.”
“Oh, is that so?”
I batted my eyes at him, feel flirtatious. But then again, when didn’t I feel flirtatious around him? “Yeah, haven’t you noticed by now?”
“I guessed I missed that.”
“Huh, I guess you’re just not as good as reading people as I am.”
We continued on, the conversation light and fun and making my sides hurt from laughing so much. Why had I had to ruin everything by getting drunk married to this man? I felt like I had closed an amazing book before I even had the chance to enjoy its contents.
Then again, if we hadn’t, I’d still be toiling away in Vegas, either trying to desperately find a call center job or being miserable in one. I guess, for all of the bad choices I had made, they had turned out the best way possible.
We arrived at the office in record time and I was pretty sure that James had sped some of the time, but I didn’t mind. I was eager to get everything underway so I could feel secure.
Pamela was also pleased, of course, and she smiled all the way from greeting us at the door to copying the files and handing us the keys.
“Thank you again! I’m sure you’ll love it here.”
“I’m sure I will,” I said, waving as I walked out. I was tempted to go right back up into the apartment and curl up right then and there on the floor, but James was leading me back to the car and I belatedly remembered that there were no utilities either at my place.
“I’m going to need you to call off tomorrow,” James said, his tone not making it and order, but his natural dominance making it difficult to say no to.
“Why’s that?”
“Because we need to get you a bed and furniture. Unless you’re telling me that your car has broken all known laws of physics and that you’ve fit both a couch and a mattress in there.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” I said. With everything he had done, I couldn’t imagine him furnishing my apartment too. Surely there was a line somewhere.
“What, do you expect me to let my child sleep on the ground, or you to have to wait for several paychecks before being comfortable? That would be a pretty dick move. And, despite what my competitors say, I’m not a dick. Usually.”
I was staring again, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like I was in a dream and I was going to wake up cold and cramped in my car with nothing but my next paycheck to look forward to. “Why are you doing this?” I asked.
I probably shouldn’t have. Asking that question was just begging to burst the bubble that we had been so safely cocooned in. Maybe he would come to his senses and everything would be gone.
But… that couldn’t happen, right? We signed an agreement and everything. Could my future really be that secure?
It seemed impossible. But everything about the weekend had seemed impossible.
“Because, even if this child wasn’t planned, I don’t think I could ever give them anything less than my best. I may not be the warmest man, I may prefer to party and jet-set around the world, but like my parents, I realize that what I want is second to this child. Even if it’s conceptions wasn’t exactly… ideal.”
I didn’t know what to say, and I felt my throat starting to prickle like it did every time before I cried. I hoped I wasn’t going to cry, I couldn’t think of anything more awkward.
“Whoa, hey, are you okay there?”
Damn. I was crying. Way to ruin the day.
“I’m fine,” I said. “It’s just the hormones.” Why was I trying to lie to him? “I mean, no, it’s not just the hormones. How is it that you’re the kindest person I ever met? I’ve made your life so needlessly complicated, but you’ve been nothing but generous and I don’t deserve it!”
By the end of my little rant my voice was little more than a high-pitched whine, but instead of telling me to shut up or get a grip, he just leaned over and took my face in his hands.
“Hey there, it’s okay,” he assured, his thumbs rubbing away my tears. “You had a human reaction and I can’t blame you for it. Sure, it would have been a whole lot more convenient to handle this from the start, but you didn’t know who I was. I was some guy you got drunk with and made some very stupid decisions in a Vegas chapel. You had no way of knowing if I was mafia, or a megalomaniac, or a serial killer. You did what you had to do.
“As long as you take care of the child, don’t try to keep me from him, and keep to your side of the arrangement, I will never have a problem with you.”
I breathed out through my nose, trying to get a grip on myself. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“No welcome needed,” he said, hand going to the wheel. “Let’s go back to the hotel, shall we? I’ll order in. The two of us could use some rest.”
“That sounds amazing,”: I said, sitting back.
And I wasn’t exaggerated. At the moment, nothing sounded better than kicking my shoes off, and getting to know this strange man I was divorcing a little better.
Chapter Nineteen
~Nicole~
I woke up in the dark, my stomach rolling, and I stumbled to the bathroom. For being something that was supposed to stick to the first trimester, my morning sickness was certainly still kicking my ass.
I knelt there for several moments, completely tossing the contents of my stomach, before slumping to the floor. At least the carpet smelled fresh and-
Wait, there wasn’t carpet in my car. Where the he
ll was I?
I sat up with a star, my mind supplying everything from alien abduction to kidnapping, before the rest of my brain woke up and filled in what really happened.
Holy crap. Had all of that really happened?
I looked around and the fancy bathroom I was in confirmed it. It hadn’t been a dream! Scrambling to my feet -as much as a pregnant woman could scramble- I stepped out into the main room.
James was sleeping on the couch, his mouth slightly open as he breathed deeply. How was it he still looked so handsome when I always looked like a slack jawed slob whenever I was passed out?
The very first tendrils of morning light were just beginning to shine across his chiseled features, highlighting his strong nose and killer cheekbones. His hair was mussed, but in the perfect, bed-head sort of way that a lot of models in magazines tried to affect but didn’t get quite right.
Huh, even with him laying there, looking like Prince Charming, I still had a hard time believing he was real. Surely, he had to be an alcoholic. Or a woman beater. Or a drug lord. There was no way someone could be so nice, rich and attractive. There were only so many good traits a single person could have before I had to get suspicious.
Well, even if I was suspicious, I had his promises certified in a legal contract. Which was crazy.
But I’d wasted enough time worry about what would or wouldn’t happen. I was being a beautiful gift in the now, and I needed to take advantage of it. Stress wasn’t good for the baby and if I wanted to be the best mommy I could be, I needed to wind down and appreciate the leg up I had been given.
Well, since he was doing so much for me, the least I could do was make him breakfast. I went to the kitchenette that was honestly bigger than some of the whole kitchens I had had when we lived in trailers and rooted around the fridge. It wasn’t quite as well stocked as the fridge in Vegas had been, but there was bagels, condiments and cereal bars, fresh fruit and a couple juices. I could make due with that. Sure, it wasn’t going to be some grand banquet, but it would still be something nice to wake up to.
I busied myself with getting stuff ready. I started up the fancy coffee machine and put one of those little cups into it, then cut the bagels. It took me a little longer to find the toaster, which was tucked away in one of the cabinets, but in about ten minutes or so I had a couple of plates made up.
I didn’t know if it was the coffee or the bagels, but James because to stir just about before I was done. I watched him from the corner of my eye until he sat up, looking adorably groggy. “I don’t remember ordering room service this morning,” he said, voice raspy in that just-woke-up sort of way.
“Consider this complimentary,” I answered. “Do you prefer coffee, water, or juice in the morning.”
“Coffee,” he said quickly. “And water.”
“Coming right up.”
I filled up two glasses and a mug, stacked the plates on my arm and headed over to him on the couch. He took them from me as I sat, and soon we were both digging into our carbo-loaded meal.
We didn’t say much, but mostly because our mouths were full. After my morning sickness I was feeling a lot better, but also extremely hungry. It was good to get something solid in me that I hopefully wouldn’t toss into the toilet in an hour or so.
“Thanks.” James said when we were done, setting our plates to the side. “You ready for more shopping?”
I laughed, nervously of course. It was like each morning I woke up at square one and had to work myself all the way back to a new level of trust by the end of the day.
“You’re certainly eager for being a man’s man.”
“That’s sexist,” he retorted, picking up the plates and heading for the kitchen, where he dumped them in the sink.
“You got me there.” I stood as well and headed for the bedroom. “After today, you’re going back to your company, right?”
“Yup. It’s a quick four-hour fight so we’ll have to organize our schedules for certain events.”
“Events?” I asked curiously.
“Yeah. Like our meeting with the divorce attorney, signing papers. Things like that.”
Oh. Right. That was his ultimate goal in coming down here. I guess that I had gotten so swept up in the niceties and the chemistry between us that I had forgotten for a moment. Maybe I could blame it on pregnancy brain, because I certainly wasn’t acting like myself.
“Sounds like a plan. I’m going to go get dressed.”
“Great, bet you I’m still done before you are.”
“Probably,” I answered, closing the door.
But my heart wasn’t in it. I was in a sour mood and I couldn’t quite say why. Looking at my clothes, I decided to worry about what I was going to put on rather than what was going on with the painful squeezing in my heart.
*
I let out a long sigh, resting my body against the passenger’s seat like it was a life line.
“Do you need a break?” James asked from beside me, chuckling slightly.
I looked at him and blew a hard bit of air from between my lips, making them sputter like an engine. “A little,” I said once I finished the exhausted gesture.
“We’re only halfway through the day, you know. There’s still a whole lot more to come.”
“I know,” I groaned, closing my eyes. “And I’m grateful, I really am, but my shoes are killing me and so is my back. My heart is excited, but my body is less than willing.”
“No wonder with those shoes you’re wearing.”
“Huh?” I looked down at my feet to see I had definitely put on the comfy flats that I remembered. “What’s wrong with my shoes?”
“No arch support, no heel padding, and I’m sure that pregnant women need even more feet care. You really should be wearing something that takes better care of your feet.”
“Wait, really?”
He nodded. “I spotted a nice maternity section in one of the stores we went shopping in during our baby registering stint. We’ll swing by there to see if they have anything.”
“I mean, if you want to,” I responded. “I’m still kinda getting used to this, you buy things whenever I need it, so it’s a little weird.”
“To me it’s weird that you wouldn’t just go and get them.”
“Two different lives, I guess.” I reached over and patted his hand. “Let’s go get some shoes so I stop being a big baby while having a baby inside of me.”
He smirked at that and we drove off, heading back to the mall. I was pretty sure that James had been to the shopping center more times with me than the rest of his years combined.
We arrived on the side of the mall opposite of the food court -my least favorite side- and where a lot of the higher end stores were. I followed James in, and instantly recognized the store we were walking towards.
It was one of those super fancy stores with entire rooms for dressing areas, and refreshments set about. The kind where if you went in without looking like one of their clients, they’d have someone tail you to make sure you found your way out quickly.
I remembered registering for a few things in there and they were just so expensive. It figured that this was the one place that James remembered.
We made our way to the maternity area, which of course was right next to the baby area that we had spent so much time exploring previously. I had to be honest, their selection was great, but I could already feel sticker shock starting to sink in.
“Ah, I think I see shoes over here,” James said, pointing.
I looked over but was surprised to see that the racks and displays were too tall for me to make out where he was pointing. That was impressive considering that I was no shorty myself. How were the average women, or shorties like my mother, supposed to reach anything?
I didn’t know, but I supposed it didn’t matter, because I followed James and sure enough, there was a whole section of cushioned and specially designed shoes for pregnant women.
And they weren’t hideous either, which seemed pretty am
azing. They ranged from practical to full glam, but none of them were the overly designed shoe-boats I expected. Whoever said money couldn’t buy happiness didn’t take into consideration that it could certainly buy a lot of style and comfort.
James picked out several pairs and I willed myself not to look at the tags attached to the overly pricey box.
“Shall we try these on?”
“Sure,” I answered, wobbling over to the lush seats they had next to the shoe displays.
But before I could quite make it, something caught my eye. It was a pair of teal, leathery type pregnancy leggings and they just looked so nice.
I reached over, feeling the material, and despite it’s leathery look, the inside was soft and buttery. I bet it would be so comfortable to wear, but a quick glance at the price tag had me grimacing and walking away. The day I spent a hundred and fifty dollars on leggings was the day I was dressing to meet the Lord himself.
“What were you looking at?” James asked from behind me.
Oh no, I knew that tone. He was about to do that billionaire thing again, wasn’t he? “Nothing,” I answered quickly. “Let’s go try on these shoes!”
“What are these, leggings? They seem nice.”
Damn. That man really never missed a beat. I turned to him, smiling sheepishly. “I guess they might have caught my eye.”