Love Accidental (A Romance Compilation)

by Tia Siren

  “Let’s go,” I said, rushing him to the car and getting him buckled in before jumping in the driver’s seat and hurrying away. I dropped Tommy off at one of the few daycares that was open seven days a week and headed for work. I parked in back, but the moment I opened the back door, I knew something was off.

  I clocked in, tied on my apron, and headed for the front of the house and froze.

  “There she is!” someone shouted.

  A series of flashing lights blinded me, making the questions being shouted at me seem even louder.

  “Emily!” I heard the assistant manager say my name.

  I turned to his voice. “I didn’t know,” I said by way of excuse.

  “You need to go home,” he grumbled.

  I walked down the small hallway, put my hands on my hips, and shook my head. “No way. I need the hours.”

  “I don’t want you here. They’re interrupting business. All they order is coffee and they are hogging the tables. They have to go, and they’re not going to as long as they think you’re here!”

  “What am I supposed to do? I need the money,” I said with exasperation.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t care. I need to call someone else in. Get out of here and take those people with you!”

  Stomping to the time-clock machine, I clocked out. I grabbed my purse, ripped my apron off, and threw it in the dirty clothes box. No way was I going to let the vultures see me leaving. Let them think I was hanging out in the back. It would buy me time to escape.

  I got in the car and drove back to the daycare. I wanted to spend the day with Tommy. No, it wasn’t a want; it was a need. I had to protect him in case they got his name or figured out where he was. I pressed the gas pedal down further, suddenly feeling anxious about being separated from him.

  After picking up Tommy, I drove to a park a bit out of the way from my house and let Tommy play. I kept my sunglasses on and my hair up in a ponytail, hoping no one would recognize me. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched. Everywhere I looked, I was convinced people were talking about me.

  “You ready to go?” I asked Tommy as he came down the slide.

  “Yep. Can we get ice cream now?” he asked, knowing our usual routine on park days. We played and then always got ice cream before heading home.

  “Sure,” I said, mentally mapping out where we were and trying to think of somewhere to take him. I was avoiding all our usual hangouts, knowing there was a good chance someone would recognize me. I drove around, found an ice cream shop, and sat in a back corner, eating our ice cream.

  “Anything else you want to do today?” I asked my little boy, who was greedily lapping at his chocolate ice cream cone.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know.”

  I laughed. It was almost always the same answer. “We could—” I stopped talking when I saw a young woman point directly at me.

  There was no way I was making that up. She was definitely talking about me.

  “Actually, why don’t we go home and hang out. We can work on that school site a bit if you want.”

  His eyes lit up, and he vigorously nodded his head. “Yes! I’m going to the next level!”

  I smiled, trying to ignore the woman who had gathered a couple of her friends to point and stare.

  “You about ready?” I asked Tommy, wanting to get out of the place before we caused a scene.

  He lapped at his melting ice cream and scowled at me. “I’m not done.”

  “Take it with you,” I said, standing and grabbing a handful of napkins from the counter.

  I grabbed his free hand and dragged him out the door, ignoring the women watching us. I was pretty sure one of them had taken our picture with her cell phone. If Tommy hadn’t been with me, I would have given her a piece of mind, letting her know just how rude she was being.

  Instead, I held my head high and got Tommy tucked into the back of the car, dreading the mess the ice cream would make on the way home. It was a small price to pay for privacy. I drove around my block several times, looking for anyone who looked out of place. It was pretty hard to identify a photographer when every person with a cell phone could have been one in disguise.

  “Mom, what are you doing?” Tommy asked from the back seat.

  “I’m just looking for a good place to park,” I told him.

  I parked the car, waited a few seconds to see if anyone approached us, and when it looked like the coast was clear, I grabbed Tommy and rushed inside. There was a man leaning against our building. I didn’t recognize him but wasn’t about to chance him asking me questions in front of Tommy.

  Once inside my building, I hurried up the two flights of stairs and got inside my apartment, locking the door behind me. I couldn’t keep doing this. A relationship with Tyler was going to make me crazy.

  Be careful what you wished for.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tyler

  She wasn’t talking to me again. I hadn’t thought she was serious yesterday when she’d said she couldn’t see me, and I definitely didn’t know that included not talking to me in general. I dragged myself down the hall to my personal gym. After a run on the treadmill, I was sure I would have some clarity. I would work it out while I punished my body with a grueling workout. It was when I did my best thinking.

  I started out slow, giving my muscles time to warm up. I thought about Emily, like I always tended to do. Sex with her was phenomenal. I’d definitely had plenty of sex in my life, but with her, it was different. I felt so completely connected to her; it enhanced all the feelings, making the passion so intense, the orgasms felt like I had died and caught a glimpse of heaven before floating back down to earth.

  As I cranked up the speed, my feet pounded against the treadmill belt, my thoughts shifting to how I was going to see Emily again. She hated cameras, and I didn’t blame her. She wanted to protect her child, and so did I. There was only one way to make it all go away: I had to quit the show. I finished my workout, my mind made up as I headed for the shower.

  “Jack, it’s Tyler. I know we talked about you working out something to get this show tidied up, but I haven’t heard from you. I need it over. How are we going to make that happen?” I said, treating the situation like I would any other business deal.

  “Well, we’ve been tossing around some ideas,” he stammered.

  “I’ve waited and have heard nothing from you. I’ve already made my decision. I’m not interested in pursuing this any longer.”

  He cleared his throat. “The ratings are through the roof on this right now. The secret date, that was sneaky, and I’m going to tell you I was pissed, but it turns out less is more. People are more interested than ever.”

  I sighed. “Just what are you telling me, Jack?”

  “In a nutshell, that first figure I tossed out is not an option. You’ve proven yourself to be an exciting character. People want to know you better, and the blogosphere is blowing up. The Twitter handle for your show has reached close to a million followers. If you try to back out now, the potential revenue we would lose is quite a bit more than I had anticipated.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’ll have my lawyers dig into that. I want out.”

  “Look, let’s try to work out a compromise. As it is, you’ve shirked your obligations to date other women this past week. We are sorely lacking in footage. We need something. I’m sure we can come up with something that satisfies us both.”

  “You were supposed to be working on that already. I’ve heard nothing,” I growled. “I want this wrapped up. Now.”

  There was a long pause. I didn’t say a word. I would let the uncomfortable silence fester until he came up with a more acceptable option.

  “I’ll agree to wrap the show up a week early. However, I need a little more drama, a little more angst. You choose three other women to go out on dates with, and then we’ll announce you’ve made a decision. Viewers will be on the hook, wanting to know who you’ll chose.”

&nbs
p; “One,” I shot back.

  “Two different women. Two dates documented by our cameras.”

  I hesitated. “It has to happen this week. I want this behind me sooner rather than later.”

  “Fine. We can do that. Send over your two picks and we’ll make the calls. Play it up. Flirt and look like you’re having a good time. We need the viewers to believe you are considering the other two women. Right now, we have a lot of people rooting for the single mom. If we can play it up a bit more, it is going to make for some pretty amazing television,” he said with excitement.

  I didn’t share his enthusiasm, but if it got me out of the stupid contract, I would do it.

  “I’ll go over the apps and send my selections over in a bit. Get the first date scheduled for tomorrow. I want this wrapped up ASAP,” I said, using my business voice that left no room for argument.

  “Will do,” Jack said and hung up the phone.

  I called Connor, knowing the guy was used to me calling on Sundays. I tended to work seven days a week even if I wasn’t in the office. I told him I needed the apps, and he not-so-politely told me how to use the computer to pull up the file and look at them there.

  I browsed through the pictures, not giving a shit about the bios. It was all for show anyway. I had no interest in learning about women I never intended to see again. I checked the time, wondering if Emily was at work.

  I took a chance and called her anyway. When she answered the phone, I was pleasantly surprised.

  “Hi!”

  “Hello,” she answered with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

  “Are you off today?” I asked, feeling like an idiot because, clearly, she was.

  She sighed. “I wasn’t supposed to be. Sundays are a busy day, great tips with the church crowd, but I was told to stay home. My boss doesn’t want me near the place.”

  “Why?” I asked, suddenly worried she was sick or, worse, Tommy was sick.

  “Uh, because the place is swarming with obnoxious people carrying cameras and harassing the regular customers. They’ve been asking questions about me. They’re hounding the other waitresses and my boss,” she said with irritation.

  “Oh,” I muttered. “Well, then, you’re off for the day!” I said enthusiastically, excited we were both free from work responsibilities. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” I asked, eager to see her.

  “We have plans,” she said, her tone short and irritated.

  She was lying. “I’d like to see you again,” I told her, dropping my voice a little, knowing just how to persuade her by using my bedroom voice.

  She sighed. “I told you, things are a little tense right now. I don’t want us to be seen together and set off another fresh round of rumors about us. I’m hoping things will die down enough for me to go to work tomorrow.”

  “I know it’s difficult right now. I’m working on that, I promise, and it will be over soon,” I said, avoiding the part about me dating other women to help wrap the show up quickly. “We could take the helicopter up north and get away from it all,” I offered.

  “No, thank you. We’ve got plans today and can’t break them.”

  “What about tomorrow night? Can I see you?”

  She hesitated, and I knew she was trying to think of an excuse.

  “Tommy can come too. We can have a quiet dinner at my place, no cameras,” I blurted out.

  “I don’t know,” she started, and I could feel her getting ready to shoot me down.

  “Will you think about it?”

  “I’ll think about it. I don’t have a sitter for tomorrow. It would have to be an early dinner,” she mumbled, and I knew she was close to saying yes.

  “It can be anytime. You tell me when and I’ll make it happen,” I told her, suddenly realizing I had just double-booked myself.

  I tapped a pen on my desk, waiting for her reply.

  “Does five work for you?” she asked in a small voice. “I know it’s early, but I need to be able to get Tommy home and in bed by eight at the very latest.”

  I smiled, thinking about how she put her son’s needs first. That gave me more joy than I had a right to have, unless he truly was my son. Then I had every right to be happy she was thinking about what was best for him.

  “I will see you at five tomorrow. Should I send a car?”

  “No. We can drive if that’s okay.”

  I couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of seeing them both tomorrow. “That’s perfect. I’ll text you my address and let security know you’ll be coming. Is there anything in particular you would like for dinner?”

  She laughed, and I closed my eyes, letting the sound wash over me. “Surprise me!”

  “What about Tommy?”

  “He eats pretty much anything,” she said, and I could hear the amusement in her voice.

  I held on to that tidbit of information about the boy who may or may not have been mine.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I told her.

  “Bye,” she said and hung up.

  I held the phone in my hand, already missing her voice. I thought about our date for tomorrow and quickly sent Jack another email, specifying the date for tomorrow night would need to be after eight. I knew it was a little late, but he never said there was a specific time frame.

  Once I hung up with him, I called my chef friend, asking if he was available for tomorrow. He wasn’t but recommended a friend of his. I made the call. The man was an Italian chef. I left the choice of the meal up to him, only specifying he have at least one dish that would be kid friendly.

  I meandered into the kitchen to see what kind of snacks my own cook had left for me. Sundays were the one day I had to myself. The staff was off except for the security at the gate. Usually, I appreciated the quiet time to chill and just be me and not the business mogul. It was a day to either watch football, swim in my pool, or just veg out in general.

  I grabbed one of the breakfast bowls the cook had left for me in the fridge, popped it in the microwave, and turned to stare out the windows that looked over my sprawling estate. It was too much house for me. I knew that, but when I signed the papers a couple years ago, it was as if everything I had worked so hard for had finally paid off. I had the house I had always dreamed of. In my dreams, it had never felt quite so empty though.

  The beeping of the microwave snapped me out of my reverie. I took my meal out to the covered patio off the kitchen and enjoyed it. An idea sprang to mind, and while I ate, I used my phone to do a quick search about DNA tests.

  I had a gut feeling about Tommy, but that wasn’t enough. Emily denied I was the kid’s father. I wanted to know how I could get the child’s DNA and have it tested without her knowing. If he wasn’t my son, no harm, no foul, I would be able to dismiss the thought from my head and quit worrying about it. If he was my son, that was going to be a very different conversation.

  Putting the phone away, I stared out at the lush green grass that rivaled that of any golf course. I didn’t want to go behind Emily’s back. I couldn’t. I would have to accept her word that Tommy wasn’t mine. It would be difficult, but it was for the best.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emily

  I managed to get through my full shift at work with only a few interruptions. I found some of the customers were happy for me while others sneered and looked at me like I was the worst kind of human on the planet.

  The story about me and Tyler had evolved, as I’d expected. The current rumor was that Tommy was, in fact, Tyler’s son and I was going after the man for back child support. One rather nasty customer wrote ‘gold digger’ on his ticket and left me the exact change for his meal with a one penny tip.

  Asshole.

  I put the day behind me and focused on getting ready for our visit to Tyler’s house. I wanted to look nice, but not like I had tried too hard. Getting Tommy dressed for the visit was a bit of a chore. He didn’t understand why he needed to wear his good pants versus what he wore to daycare. He was inquisitive and
demanded full explanations. He was not the kind of kid who would ever accept the ‘because I said so’ response.

  “Ready?” I asked Tommy, taking one last look at his appearance.

  He grinned. “Are we going to ride in the helicopter again?”

  “Not tonight. We’re having dinner and then coming home early. I’m working tomorrow,” I told him, leaving off the reasons why. He didn’t need to know I had to pick up an extra shift to make up for the time I’d missed over the weekend.

  I smoothed down the cowlick at the back of his head and watched it spring right back up. Oddly enough, after our little round in my bedroom the other night, I had noticed Tyler had a similar issue with his usually perfectly groomed hair.

  “Mom, stop.” Tommy fussed, pulling his head away from me.

  I laughed. “All right, I think we’re good to go.”

  He was already at the door, anxious to return to the big house. My phone rang just as I was grabbing my purse. I pulled it out and saw it was Sarah.

  “Hey! What’s up?” I answered.

  “You sound cheery. Why do you sound cheery? You must not have seen the article posted by some of our so-called friends on Facebook,” she mumbled.

  I groaned. “No, I haven’t. What now?” I asked, stepping into the hallway, checking the door to make sure it was locked, and heading downstairs with Tommy’s hand in mine.

  “So, you saw the one about you being a gold digger, right?”

  I groaned. “One? I saw several, not to mention those people who were nice enough to tell me just what they thought. I did get a business card from a lawyer as well, telling me he would sue and get me all the money I deserved for having the man’s child.”

  She laughed. “Keep that card handy. Have you seen the numbers they’re tossing around?” she asked with disbelief.

  “Yes, and I’m pretty sure they’re greatly exaggerated. That’s more than I would make in four years,” I said, buckling Tommy in and then shutting the door and pausing at the back of the car. “I didn’t have a child to make him my meal ticket.”