He propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin against his hand. “Well then…we better hope it’s a girl. Or Harvey Heathcliff Zale-Castillo is going to have a hell of a time in school.”
“Castillo-Zale,” she corrected him with a reluctant smile, knowing they had finally arrived on a truce. “And it will build character.”
Warm, getting warmer, he thought. “So, does this mean you’re going to marry me?”
“I’m still considering it.” It had become her standard reply.
“It’s the ring, isn’t it? Be honest.” She was still wearing the chocolate Ring Pop that she gnawed on throughout the day, forcing him to replace it every morning with a fresh one.
“It has nothing to do with the ring, Harvey, and everything to do with what comes after it.”
“A baby, lots of amazing sex, and more babies. What else is there to worry about?”
“Oh, you know…the usual.”
Her eyes drifted up to the fancy stained glass chandelier lamp shade that hung above them.
“You’re still certain they’re real Tiffanys, huh?”
Ever since they had started coming there, it had been the same discussion.
She nodded. “Yep.”
“Which makes them worth about how much?”
“One hundred thousand dollars each at auction…possibly more.”
Harvey darted his eyes around the room, counting at least four of them. Then he shifted his glance to the old frail woman sitting behind the antique brass cash register.
“That’s a lot of sundaes. I bet Margie wouldn’t mind retiring to someplace warm and cozy with a nest egg like that.”
“So, you think I should tell her?”
Harvey noted the marble soda fountain and miniature jukeboxes that had given the ice cream parlor its authentic charm for the past fifty years. “I think Margie probably likes serving you sundaes more than she likes the idea of retirement.” Swiveling back to Alma, he reached out and swiped a taste of chocolate sauce from her almost-empty tray.
“I’d like to think that you’re right.”
Taking out his usual hundred-dollar bill from his wallet, he tossed it on the check and flashed her a smile. “I’m always right, which is why convincing you to remarry me is going to be one of the smartest decisions of my life.” Leaning across the table and pecking her on her sugar-glazed lips, he said, “C’mon on, let’s get out of here, you big, beautiful, buxom mother of my nameless child. I’ve got something special I want to show you.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“I really don’t see how getting us arrested for breaking and entering is going to convince me to remarry you.”
Alma scuffed her boots along the polished linoleum floor as Harvey led her by the hand through the iconic atrium of the Marshall Field’s department store. It was dark and empty, and despite her protests, he had managed to get them through the main revolving doors afterhours without triggering an alarm. He claimed he had scored security clearance through his connections with the owner, but she knew better than to trust Harvey’s real estate “connections,” especially when they potentially resulted in criminal charges of trespassing.
She trailed behind him, dangling like a kite, as he charged past the perfume counters and women’s accessories on a mission to prove her wrong. Apparently, he thought jail was just as good a place to deliver their baby as anywhere else. He also thought Harvette was going to fly.
When they arrived at the luggage department, he suddenly stopped and spread out his arms like she should be obviously thrilled, enamored, and enchanted with his achievements.
“We’re here.”
“In the luggage department?” She noted the elaborate displays of matching leather suitcases and miniature carry-ons. “Are we going on a trip?”
“Not until the little one comes. But in the meantime, I thought we’d attempt to get rid of our old baggage and start fresh.”
“But I thought you loved all our old baggage,” she said, trying to emphasize the fact that their discussion had been a metaphor. She crossed her arms, attempting to sound more perplexed than annoyed at the possibility that he had dragged her there afterhours, just to discuss buying new luggage.
“I do. Did. But not if it’s getting in the way of us moving forward. So I figured maybe it’s just better to purge our old baggage and start over. You know, a fresh start with new baby baggage.”
He rolled away a massive cardboard sales display, depicting a carefree couple in bathing suits, holding hands and running towards their picturesque beach getaway, and revealed the unexpected surprise behind it—a complete ensemble of newborn furniture and equipment, including a brand-new snow white bassinet, full-sized mahogany crib, free-standing baby swing, baby dresser topped with a changing table, rainforest-themed baby bouncer and a hot pink baby carrier.
Astonished, Alma pinched herself, just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating from her sugar rush. “Wow, Harvey….that’s a whole lot of new baby baggage.”
“I know...see?” He swiped up the hot pink baby carrier and slipped it over his shoulders like a backpack. “How can we not be ready to start a new life together with all this brand spanking new baggage?”
She peered at his broad shoulders and long arms, entangled in the straps of the carrier, and reached out to slip it off him before he accidentally tore it apart. Swapping it from his back to his chest and adjusting the position snuggly across his pecs, she revealed the proper way to wear an infant carrier. “Newborns are pretty small. It’s going to take some time before you get to give piggyback rides.”
“Can’t wait,” he said, pulling her into his arms.
“You do realize it’s not about our old baggage?”
“What? The reason why you still haven’t agreed to marry me?”
She nodded.
“Yep.” He nodded back. “And I’ve got that covered, too.” He led her into the adjacent mattress department. “Which is why we’re also getting this…”
He presented her with a king-sized, pillow-top, two-layered memory foam mattress. Crawling on it, he immediately made an imprint into its billowy surface. “It’s hypoallergenic, sleep-number adjustable, and heated,” he recited, like he had become best friends with the salesman. “And it does this…” Reaching over the side, he pressed a sequence of numbers on its flat-panel control, raising the mattress’ header and footer into the air.
“Is that comfortable?” Alma asked, trying not to sound ungrateful.
“Bliss,” he exhaled, his body scrunched up like he was resting in the folds of an accordion.
She eyed the mattress’ conspicuous price tag. “I’d like to think there’s a simpler, less expensive way of getting me to marry you again.”
He keyed in a new number into the control panel and flattened the mattress again before drawing her onto it.
“Back rubs?”
She smiled as she rolled on her side and nestled against his chest. “Warm.”
“Foot rubs?”
“Warmer.”
“Butt rubs?”
His hand curved over the backside. She laughed and pretended to shrug him off, but as with everything about him, she secretly enjoyed it.
“Ah, I know,” he said. After a few robotic beeps, the bed slowly hummed like an engine until it mellowed into a constant vibration.
“Wow.” Alma sighed in relaxation, feeling his warm body enveloping her own. “That might actually do the trick.”
“And if not, maybe this will.” He snaked his hand through the loop of her arm and displayed a small red velvet box. “The other one was a bit scuffed up from years of being entombed in clay. The jeweler didn’t think he could rescue it, so I picked out this…”
She gazed at the box. “Harvey, you didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did,” he replied, slipping off the plastic band of the half-eaten Ring Pop from her finger. “It’s not as easy to replace my stash of chocolate Ring Pops as you might think.”
“I
enjoy the Ring Pops.” It was true. They satiated her anxious cravings and amused her in a way that reminded her not to take it all too seriously. Just like Harvey. Now, as she gazed down at the velvet box, she knew that they couldn’t avoid serious forever, no matter how much they pretended to. They had a baby on the way and whatever baggage they had in the past, Harvey was right: they had to purge everything and start fresh.
“Are you afraid I’ll disappoint you?” he asked, noting her reluctance to open it.
“No,” she whispered. “I’m afraid we’ll disappoint each other.”
“That’s pretty impossible unless you stop having sex with me,” he quipped. “And even then, I won’t be disappointed. I’ll just be horny.”
He nudged himself up against her tailbone, just to prove his point. She reluctantly smiled. Everything was so easy and uncomplicated in his world—even when it wasn’t.
She sat up from the mattress without opening the box. The vibrations were making her nauseous. “Don’t you think it would be wiser not to change anything until after we have the baby? You know, wait to make sure everything goes well afterwards?”
She touched the tip of his chin. She wasn’t rejecting him. She was rejecting her fear of changing what had been the best months of her life.
“When you love something, you follow it to its bitter end, Alma. Which means I’m all in, no matter what happens afterwards.”
“Breast pumps, and midnight bottle feedings, and bitchy hormones?”
“Yes, yes, and double yes,” he stressed, cradling her cheek. “I want it all because I love it all, Alma. Because it’s all part of you.”
“There are going to be a lot of sleepless nights,” she insisted. “And they’re not going to be easily cured by an eight-thousand-dollar mattress.”
“Well, when the baby turns us into sleep-deprived zombies, we’ll come here and do exactly what we’re doing now. Relax—”
He guided her down onto the mattress, positioning their heads at the foot of the bed and directing her attention up to the ceiling.
“Lights,” he called up into the air and waited.
Like little attentive gnomes, the sensors responded to his command and clicked on a ring of beaded lights around the perimeter of the ceiling, illuminating the shimmering iridescence of the Tiffany mosaic glass tiles.
“Wow,” she heaved a sigh, overwhelmed by the serene beauty of the moment. “You don’t get this kind of view when you’re here during the day, when it’s filled with department store music and busy shoppers.
“Nope,” he agreed, taking her hand into his own and holding it as if they could stay there forever.
She squeezed it. “I don’t want a bitter end, Harvey. I want us to be happy.”
“Which is exactly why you should marry me because I’m not going to promise you a mythical happily ever after. I’m going to promise to try my best to be dependable and to make it all okay. Even when it’s not and I can’t—every torturous sleepless night and every exhausting, hectic, unbelievably unpredictable but incredibly awe-inspiring day. But it will all be okay as long as we’re together because I love you. And I will always love you. In fact, it’s probably the most dependable thing about me.”
She gazed into his earnest blue eyes, wanting to believe it would all be enough. “Has your building owner friend really agreed to let us come here at night, whenever we want, and hang out on all these mattresses with our crying newborn?”
“Yep. And he even thinks we should check out the lingerie section.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re the building owner?”
His blue eyes glinted at her. “Suuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrprise,” he singsonged.
“But how?”
“You know, it’s the darnedest thing,” he replied. “When one deal closes, another one opens.”
“And your riverfront parcel?”
“Sold off to a British real estate developer named Phillip Spears, who I used to despise, until he promised in writing to preserve the building and the stained-glass windows, and let you visit whenever you wanted.”
“I don’t know what to say…” She grew quiet, unable to comprehend how he had accomplished all of it—just for her.
He flopped his forehead between her heavy breasts and groaned in agony, “For the love of God, woman. Just – say – yes.”
He flipped open the velvet box, revealing the stunning cushion cut five-carat tanzanite surrounded by diamonds in a gleaming white gold filigree setting. She recognized its art nouveau design—Louis Comfort Tiffany.
She contemplated everything they had been through together—as both exes and lovers—in the past few weeks, months, and years before answering him with a playful smile. “Warm, getting warmer.”
He groaned and swept her into his arms, passionately kissing her, just to prove he meant every word he had said. “Just wait until I get all your clothes off and change your answer to scorching, white hot.”
THE END
DEAR READER:
Thank you so much for reading my novel. If you enjoyed this book, I hope you will consider leaving a review on its Amazon Sales Page well as its Goodreads Page. Or if you don’t like writing or leaving reviews, you can simply click “yes” on a review that you find helpful.
If you would like to read my other stand-alone romance novels, set within the same world and sharing some of the secondary characters in EXES, I recommend reading DEVOTION or CLOSER, which are also available free through Kindle Unlimited. If you enjoyed the mystery and suspense of EXES, I would start with DEVOTION (some readers have told me it’s better to read DEVOTION before CLOSER to better preserve the mystery). That said, if you enjoyed the witty, schmexy relationship between Harvey and Alma, I would recommend moving onto CLOSER. That said, all my billionaire romances can be read and enjoyed in any order.
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EXES - A Second Chance Billionaire Romance Novel Page 32