Plan Overboard (Toronto Series #14)

by Wardell, Heather

  It doesn't matter, though. Austin's phone number, with that concluding 672 that for one brief shining moment I thought meant something, is branded on my brain, along with every moment we spent together.

  Especially, unfortunately, his horror about Georjenna.

  Is he right? Have I doomed my child to a miserable life? It wasn't remotely my intent, of course, but in thinking of only what I wanted have I committed the biggest failure of all?

  Chapter Eleven

  I arrive at Travis's office ten minutes before nine on Monday, after throwing up for the first time in weeks. It's probably one percent morning sickness and ninety-nine percent fear. Though Travis knows I have no actual office experience I'm terrified of what he and his partner Tyler are going to expect of me.

  I'm also afraid one of them will notice that the waistband of my skirt isn't done up at the back. I tried on this outfit before I left for the cruise and figured it'd be perfect for my first day of work, but this morning I discovered I've outgrown it and I was too nervous to think up another one. I don't know whether Georjenna or all the food I ate on the cruise is to blame, but with any luck my long cardigan will keep my unbuttoned skirt out of sight.

  I pull open the heavy office door, needing both hands to move it, and make myself raise my chin and walk confidently inside. First impressions and all that.

  My first impression of the tall man standing rooting through a filing cabinet behind the glass-and-marble front counter is 'lawyer'. There's nothing else on the planet this guy could be. Three-piece dark gray suit, pale blue dress shirt, gray tie, slicked-back hair, expensive demeanor.

  He turns to me. "May I help you?"

  Resisting the urge to say, "And what'll that cost me per hour?" I smile. "I'm Corinne. Travis hired me to—"

  His sharp nod cuts me off. "Ah, yes. I'm Tyler," he says, coming around the counter to shake my hand. "Nice to meet you. I hope you're ready for this."

  "Me too," I say, making it sound like there's no doubt I am. I feel a lot of doubt, but I don't think Tyler needs to know that.

  "Glad to hear it." He's responding to my tone, not my words, and that's good because now that I've met him I suspect that if he decides not to keep me around it won't matter what Travis wants. Tyler is in his late thirties, I'd say, and I know Travis is nearly sixty and is the one who started this law firm, but I still can't see Tyler backing down. "Your other boss will be back in a minute. Off picking up coffee. That'll be your job, incidentally." He gives me a cool smile. "One of many."

  I smile back since I can't think of what to say.

  His smile warms a little, and I'm not sure why until he says, "When in doubt, say nothing. I approve. Good quality for a law office."

  A tall handsome older man, his hair almost entirely gray, walks in then carrying a cardboard tray with three cups, saving me from deciding whether to respond or again keep quiet. "You must be Corinne," he says, smiling at me with far more warmth. "Galen told me all about you. Welcome to hell."

  Tyler laughs. "It's heck at the worst, Travis. Or it will be, once she gets the chaos organized. You're going to fill her in?"

  He nods, and Tyler plucks the largest cup from the tray and says, "Good enough. Thanks for this." To me, he adds, "No calls until eleven, all right?"

  I nod, thinking it best not to point out that I don't know how to transfer calls to him so he won't have to worry about them at all, and he smiles and disappears behind a door labeled, "Tyler Ditting."

  Travis turns the tray and holds it out toward me. "Galen said you like tea. English Breakfast okay?"

  It's my least favorite, but I say, "Aw, thanks," as I take the cup, then add, "What do I owe you?"

  He shakes his head and pulls a gold card from his pocket. "Nothing. It's on the company. But you hold onto this. I need a large black coffee every morning and Tyler gets an extra-large with soy milk and two packets of raw sugar. Buy them with the card. Feel free to get yourself whatever drink you want too, but don't use the card outside of work hours. Got it?"

  I take the card, noticing 'Ditting-Egmont' embossed on its front, and tuck it away into my wallet. "Got it. So, what chaos am I organizing?"

  For the next thirty minutes Travis takes me around the office and shows me all the places where the previous assistant fell short, from the long overdue filing to the stack of invoices she'd hidden in a desk drawer to the petty cash box she'd apparently used as her personal piggy bank for months until Tyler caught her at it. Once we're done, I feel pretty sure that I can't do any worse than she did. After all, I'm not a thief.

  Travis takes me into his own office and says, "So, any questions?"

  "She really took over two thousand dollars from you guys?"

  "Oh, yeah." He shrugs. "Worst hiring decision I ever made."

  I blink. "You hired her? Just you?"

  "Yup. Tyler's client list is too full for him to have time for that sort of thing. I interviewed her and she seemed great so I didn't bother checking her references." He shrugs again, then winks at me. "You come referred by Galen, so that's good enough. For me, anyhow."

  I can't believe he'd hire someone to fiddle with the details of his business and not 'bother' to see what her past employers thought of her, but I'm obviously not going to hound him about it. What really amazes me is that he doesn't seem to feel bad at all. If I'd messed up my plan in such a huge way I'd have been devastated.

  Austin, my plan's most recent challenge, crosses my mind but I push him away. I can cry at home, but not here. And I'm not going to cry at home either. It's pointless. I've moved on.

  Travis's last words catch my attention. "Does Tyler know how much experience I don't have?"

  Travis tips his head from side to side. "I may not have mentioned it in great detail," he says, smiling at me. "But he does know you've just finished that course and you're not a legal expert, so don't worry. I know you can handle this. And Tyler knows that I know your brother and that you need a job and that I wanted to help you out, so that's all fine."

  I feel like a charity case, and I don't like it, but unfortunately I pretty much am one so I say, "Well, good. Thank you."

  "No, thank you," he says, smiling at me. "We need you. And to that end, let me show you the phones and all that, and then you can get to work on—"

  The ringing phone cuts him off. "'Ditting-Egmont," he says, pointing at the phone. "That's what you say."

  I reach for the receiver and use my best professional tone to give the firm's name.

  "Yeah, put Tyler on."

  "I'm sorry, sir, he's not available right now. May I take a message?"

  "No, you may put Tyler on," he says, clearly mocking me.

  "I'm afraid that's not possible until eleven o'clock. May I take a message?"

  We go back and forth twice more before he says, "Fine, here's your message. Tell him Rick called and tell him his new secretary's a bitch."

  He hangs up, while the word 'bitch' still rings in my head.

  I set down the receiver, feeling a little shaky and trying to hide it. If all their clients are like this I'm going to scream every time the phone rings.

  "Nice. Who was that?"

  "Rick. Didn't give his last name."

  "Doesn't need to. There's only one Rick." Travis rolls his eyes. "Guy's a jerk. Don't worry, though, the rest of our clients are actual human beings. What'd he want?"

  "He wouldn't say, other than that he wanted me to tell Tyler I'm a bitch," I say, uncomfortable saying the word to someone who could be my grandfather. "Do I need to pass that along?"

  He laughs. "Write it up, nice and neat, on the call form." He gestures at the pink pad by the phone. "We'll see whether Tyler really reads his messages."

  I carefully print, "Rick called at nine-thirty, with the following message: 'Your new secretary's a bitch.'," then show it to Travis.

  "Perfect." He quickly shows me how to transfer calls to his office phone or Tyler's, then says, "Okay. Get on that filing. And you can transfer me calls if I hav
e any."

  I nod, and he smiles and pats me on the shoulder and leaves me alone with my filing.

  I work in peaceful silence for an hour before someone calls for Travis. I transfer the call, thrilled to remember how, then look with satisfaction at the far-reduced stack of papers to be filed.

  Could it be that I somehow fell into the perfect job for me?

  After another hour, I'm certain. I fit here like I fit Austin's gorgeous dress. That thought should make me happier but instead it makes me sad because I spent hours trying to plan out a career path. How could pure luck, with Galen happening to mention I needed a job and Travis happening to need me, be better than planning?

  Chapter Twelve

  Mom plucks herself another little chocolate egg from the bowl and pushes the rest toward me. "Help yourself. Calories don't count on Good Friday."

  I set down my crocheting and do as she said, because I'm horribly nervous and I'm hoping chocolate will calm me. At some point during today's Easter celebrations I need to tell my mom and Galen that I'm pregnant, and I have no idea how to say it. The egg melts in my mouth but it doesn't leave any words behind for me to use.

  I pick up my hook again once I've made sure my fingers are chocolate-free, and as I smooth out the in-progress scarf I realize I screwed up a good two inches back. "Aw, crud."

  Mom raises her eyebrows, and I point at the mistake. "See that? I did the wrong stitch."

  She peers over her glasses at the scarf. "I see nothing. It looks— no!"

  Too late. I've started ripping, and the rows are devolving into a pile of kinked-up yarn on the table.

  "It was fine, honey," Mom says. "Why'd you do that?"

  "It wasn't fine. It was wrong."

  "YiaYia always said her mistakes wouldn't be noticed from a galloping horse," Mom says. "She may have taught you to crochet but it looks like you missed the letting-the-errors-go lesson."

  Actually, my grandmother had tried to teach that lesson to me, and I vaguely remember letting errors go back then. But no more. "Apparently. But whatever."

  "Whatever indeed." Mom smiles at me. "Well, I'm glad the cruise was fun, but I don't understand you people and not taking pictures. You didn't learn that from me."

  We chuckle and I'm sure we're all remembering her two-week trip to California last year which resulted in nearly fifteen hundred photos.

  "If Arabella ever finds that memory card, I'll get copies from her," Galen says.

  I hope she does and also hope she doesn't, because the card will have pictures of me and Austin on it and I'm not sure I'll be able to handle seeing them.

  I thought I'd put him behind me. I'd certainly decided to. But he keeps returning to my mind.

  Working for Travis has helped, since everything's new to me and my bosses clearly don't want to tell me things more than once. It's not simple, working for two busy perfectionist lawyers, even though I'm enjoying it, and at the office I have no time to think about anything but how perfect I need to be to keep up.

  As I fell asleep last night, though, I found myself reminiscing about Austin's kisses. I can't do that, because they'll never happen again and thinking about them, about him, hurts so much.

  Remembering his reaction to my pregnancy makes my stomach twist. What if my family's horrified too? I hate the idea of that, and especially of disappointing Mom, and for a moment I wonder if I could get away with just not telling.

  Of course not. I might not have to do it today, but I do have to, and soon, before they can tell by looking at me. I don't want them to find out that way. So I might as well not wait any longer. Though my fingers are tingling with panic, I clear my throat and say, so I can't back down, "I have an announcement."

  They turn to face me, and my throat goes dry. I grab my water glass and take a long drink, and Mom frowns. "What's up, Corinne? You okay?"

  I set down the glass, my hands shaking so much I can barely manage it. "I... yeah." I press my palms to the kitchen table to stop the trembling and say, "I..."

  Why didn't I decide beforehand how I'd tell? Why didn't I plan this? Now I can't think of any words.

  Mom puts her hand on mine. "You're scaring me. Are you sick? Hurt?"

  I shake my head and spit it out. "Pregnant."

  Her eyes widen and Galen says, "Was it that Austin bastard?"

  Mom says, "Who?" but I talk over her. "No, it wasn't, Galen, and he's not a bastard." Now that I've broken the news and can't go back I feel a little calmer, and I'm able to say, "After the orchestra, when I was making all my plans, I realized I wanted to have a baby. So... well, it'll be born in September."

  Mom puts both hands over her mouth. Through them, she says, "September? You've been pregnant for three months? Who's the father?"

  "Closer to three and a half, now. And there isn't one. At least, I don't know him. I went to a clinic."

  She doesn't move her hands. "All by yourself? Who went with you?"

  "Nobody." I sigh, trying to find the right words. "I'd told everyone about the orchestra audition, and then I had to tell them all I failed. I hated having to admit that. I didn't want that to happen here too so I didn't tell anyone."

  Mom mutters something I don't hear because Galen's saying, "My God, I took you on a cruise pregnant! You should never have been there."

  Mom drops her hands, the heavy gold band of the gorgeous emerald ring she inherited from her mother making a dull clunk as it hits the edge of the table. "She's pregnant, Galen, not broken. As long as she was careful—" She breaks off and turns to me. "You were careful, right? You took care of yourself?"

  I nod. "I didn't do anything the doctor said I shouldn't."

  "Doctor," she breathes, then she shakes her head. "You're pregnant. My baby's having a baby." I long for her to be happy, but she sounds shocked instead, and that doesn't change when she says, "All this time, and you didn't say anything?"

  "I know." I've already explained why, so I don't bother to do it again. "But I'm into the second trimester and I'm starting to show a little, so—"

  I wait, even more nervous than I was before, for whatever Mom's going to say next. I need her to understand why I did this on my own, why I did it without telling anyone. It was part of the plan. The plan, though, didn't take into account that she might never accept my decision. Why didn't that occur to me? And what else did I miss?

  Finally, she takes a long deep breath, lets it out slowly, and says, "Come here."

  I jump up and hurry to her side of the table, and have to fight back tears when she hugs me hard.

  "I'm going to be a grandmother," she says, and I can hear tears in her voice but happiness too. "And I won't have to share my grandbaby with another grandmother, which is even better."

  "I'm going to be an uncle," Galen says, sounding stunned. "What are you calling it? Do you know?"

  "Yup," I say, releasing Mom and returning to my chair. I tell them my planned names, finishing with, "But for now I'm calling it Georjenna because I don't know which it'll be."

  "Are you going to find out before it's born?"

  I shake my head. "I like the idea of it being a surprise."

  Mom nods. "I did too." She studies me. "It's going to be so tough, you know, doing it on your own. I'll help as much as I can, but..."

  "I know," I say quickly. "But don't worry, I'm not expecting you to take over. I thought about it a lot, when I was planning, and I really think I can manage it. Besides, you had two on your own after Dad left so I should be able to handle one."

  She seems about to comment on this then says, "Wait a second, who's Austin?"

  I look at her, not sure I want to say, and she turns to Galen, her eyebrows raised. "You thought he was the father. Who is he?"

  "Don't ask me, ask her."

  "Come on, guys. Corinne, you have a boyfriend?"

  I take a sip of water before saying, "No. I met him on the cruise, but..."

  But what, exactly? How do I explain what happened between us?

  "Guy's a 'love 'em
and leave 'em' type," Galen says. "And he left her."

  "Actually," I snap, "he said he wanted to be with me after the cruise." Ignoring Galen's "Sure he did" I add, "And I wanted that too but I had to tell him about the baby and he was horrified that I'd decided to have one on my own and that..." Remembering the awful scene, I have to blink hard before I can say, "That ended everything."

  Mom reaches across the table and gives my hand a squeeze. "He's right that it won't be easy for you. But I think you know that. And I hope you also know that I'll help you however I can. I'm not the same as a boyfriend, obviously, but I hope I'm still good."

  I squeeze her hand back, relieved she's not angry at me. "Yup. Very good."

  Chapter Thirteen

  I tell Travis and Tyler about Georjenna first thing Monday morning, because I knew I'd have to tell soon and because when I came in wearing my first-ever maternity clothes I saw Tyler's eyes drop to my stomach and I figured his suspicions would only grow as I do. I hadn't planned to buy those clothes for another two weeks, but I had no choice because even the 'wear my pants open with a long shirt over top' trick is no longer working. Though I wanted to wait until I'd originally intended to go shopping, Georjenna is making his or her presence known now and will not be held back by my plans.

  After I deliver the news, Travis tries to insist that I no longer go out each morning to buy coffee, but I won't give in to that and Tyler seems pleased that I won't. I promise that I'll be back after my maternity leave, which I will because I can't afford not to be, and the compliments they both give me on my work so far almost bring my hormonal self to tears but I manage to control myself.

  That night, as I sit at home comparing my bank balance to my plan and feeling cautiously optimistic, I get an email from Melissa.

  Hey, Corinne! How are things going? I've only just stopped feeling like the ground is moving beneath my feet with every step I take. Austin keeps teasing me that it's the baby dancing around in me, but since it took me two weeks to get my 'land legs' back last year as well I don't think it's fair to blame poor Belinda. :)