He turned to dry his face on the towel when he stopped. Something pink stuck out of the side of the trash can, buried underneath a crumpled stack of toilet paper. Way too much toilet paper. Gray hesitated, glancing at the closed bathroom door before he moved the paper aside.
The pink was actually a wrapper. Gray thought maybe it was just a tampon when something on the wrapper caught his eye – accurate. Frowning, he reached down and pulled the wrapper up. When he had it in his hands, he suddenly realized just what he was holding.
Suddenly Kristie’s behavior made sense.
***
Kristie had never made dinner for Gray before. She could see that he had been taken aback by it. She didn’t blame him. But she thought maybe if she told him she was pregnant over dinner that he would take it better.
She didn’t think Gray was going to scream at her. It was just that it was the one time she hadn’t been thinking about being pregnant, and she had gotten pregnant. They had just taken Megan in and were dealing with the loss of their best friends. They were raising their friend’s daughter. And now she was pregnant.
Kristie had spent the rest of the day in a mixture of happiness and panic. Another child meant a lot more expenses. This apartment wouldn’t do anymore. Kristie would have to find another way to bring some sort of income as well. She was worried this also meant that Gray would want to end up opening the new bar. They still hadn’t sorted out what to do about his gang life either.
Kristie served up a plate for Gray. Where the hell was he, anyway? He had fed Megan and went to put her to nap and then vanished. Her nerves were frayed. Did she tell him during dinner or after dinner? She could feel the beginning of a headache but told herself it would be okay.
She finished putting the plates out and served Gray his food, growing impatient. She peeked down the hallway and saw that he was in the bathroom. Her palms were sweaty.
Finally, she heard the bathroom door open. Quickly, Kristie darted back to the kitchen and tried to look natural. Everything will be okay.
“Gray, dinner is ready!” she called out.
She heard him enter the kitchen and turned around to ask what had taken him so long. But when she saw him, Kristie suddenly knew. She cursed herself for having thrown out the box but left the wrapper buried in the garbage can.
Gray held the wrapper tightly in his hand, looking at her wide-eyed.
“It’s true,” she said, answering his silent question. “I’m pregnant.”
-To be continued in Book 4-
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KRISTIE MISSED her own bed. It felt like ages since she slept in it. In reality, it had only been three days. She tried telling herself that as she stared up at the hospital ceiling. She ran her fingers over her baby bump. Not long now, she thought to herself as she waited for the doctor. But it would be a dangerous final two months until the baby was born.
Severe morning sickness. What was the fancy name the doctor had for it all those months ago? Hyperemesis Gravidarum. Kristie could never remember the exact name. All it meant to her was that the violent vomiting she experienced early on wasn’t the typical morning sickness. It increased as she got farther along in her pregnancy. She had a particular nasty bout of it this week. Gray begged her to go to the hospital, for the baby’s sake so Kristie finally relented.
It was a good thing she did. She was extremely dehydrated. Now she was waiting to hear if she could be released today. Gray said he would be by soon with Megan. He had been to see her this morning but had to go to work.
Kristie closed her eyes, suddenly missing Megan, who was growing so rapidly. It felt like just yesterday that they had taken her in after Kass and Rick were murdered. At the thought of her best friend, Kristie felt a pang in her chest. Her best friend, gunned down by the Infernos, leaving only Megan alive.
Taking in Megan was unexpected. Both Kristie and Gray struggled when they became parents. They had barely taken in Megan when Kristie found out the impossible had happened – she was pregnant. She had given up hope of having a child of her own and had decided that she would focus fully on Megan. The next thing she knew, she was pregnant, vomiting over a toilet bowl while Gray tried to take care of Megan.
Gray handled the news perfectly. For some reason, Kristie was completely terrified that he would be enraged at her pregnancy. They had just taken Megan in and Gray had lost his best friend. But he was overjoyed at the news and slowly, over the course of her pregnancy, he began to change.
In fact, everything would be perfect if it weren’t for the Infernos. But wasn’t that always the case? Kristie had noticed a shift in Gray, as if he was finally backing away from the gang. But the tendrils of that life refused to fully release Gray. Sometimes Kristie would wake up, having to pee several times a night, and he would be in Megan’s room, watching her sleep, lost in thought.
Breaking through her thoughts, the doctor came in to tell her she was going to be released today. Relieved, Kristie called Gray.
***
“Thanks for watching her the past few days.”
“No problem,” Lionel replied, handing Megan over to Gray. “I’m glad we could help.”
“I’ll have Kristie call Pamela once she gets home.”
Lionel nodded and gave a small wave as Gray juggled Megan and all of her things toward the truck. She was fast asleep. She could sleep almost anywhere. Gray envied her as he put her in her car seat. She gave out a soft noise and settled back into her slumber.
Gray got into the driver’s seat and headed toward the hospital. He was glad Kristie was coming home. He knew she was going stir crazy in the hospital. He remembered his own time in the hospital and could relate. Being pregnant on top of that must make it even worse.
It was silly but Gray still hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around the fact that Kristie was pregnant. It seemed almost unreal to him. They tried for months but there was nothing. Now a baby boy was on the way in two months. Gray glanced back at Megan while stopped at a red light. She was sleeping soundly. She was the perfect mix of Kass and Rick.
His mood turned dark at the thought of his best friend. Gone from this world, struck down by the Infernos. Gray swore revenge for everything Armand had done – shooting Kristie, killing Rick and Kass and leaving Megan an orphan. But the urge for revenge began to fade. With Kristie pregnant and Megan under their care, it seemed selfish to drag out the violence any longer than he already had. If he died, what would happen to Kristie and their two children? Rick had realized he was growing up and was trying to leave the life as well. It seemed foolish not to go.
But leaving the gang was harder than it looked. Even if Gray pulled out of the group and stopped interacting with them, Armand and the Infernos wouldn’t let him leave. They would still track him down and hurt him. It was a personal grudge now. They would either kill him or make sure he went to jail for the rest of his life.
So Gray found himself stuck between trying to settle down as a family man and trying to detangle himself from gang life. Kristie had been stressing the importance of communication to him, as if Gray could simply invite Armand out for a cup of tea and settle everything that way.
He pulled into the hospital parking lot. The hospital held such terrible memories for him. He hoped Kristie’s pregnancy would offer him something good for a change. He put Megan into her carrier and headed up to get Kristie.
She sat upright in bed. The TV was on some daytime judge show, but her eyes were glazed over from boredom. Her skin was pale, as it had been since her violent morning sickness began. But when Kristie saw him, her eyes lit up.
“Hey,” he whispered, pointing to the sleeping Megan.
She nodded and gave a small wave. The discharge procedure took forever and by the time they wheeled Kristie out in her wheelchair, Megan had awakened and was fussing loudly.
“My mom called me righ
t before you came into the room,” Kristie said as they headed home. “She wants to come over and help make dinner in the next couple of days. To see how I’m doing.”
Gray made a non-committal noise. Things had only mildly improved after they adopted Megan. Pamela, Kristie’s mother, wasn’t thrilled upon hearing Kristie was pregnant. It made things incredibly awkward for Gray. His uncle was still hung up over the fact Kristie and Gray were cousins. Pamela still blamed him for Kristie’s shooting. She was hoping her daughter would divorce him. Being pregnant wasn’t part of the plan.
“I think they want to spend more time with Megan,” Kristie was saying, not noticing Gray’s face. “I said it was fine. Of course I had to say it was fine.”
“I understand. They’re her grandparents. They’d want to see her.”
Kristie nodded, although her facial expression told Gray all he needed to know. She understood how awkward it was for everyone involved.
They arrived home. January snow fell gently. Gray made sure Megan was warm and snug before taking her out of the truck. They headed toward their apartment. Gray thought that even though Kristie had just gotten out of the hospital, she still looked beautiful.
They had moved again. This time to the complex where Rick and Kass used to live. Kass’s parents and Gray’s own uncle helped out with the rent each month. His uncle said that Pamela helped out as well, but Gray wasn’t so sure about that. In any case, with people pitching in to help pay for a bigger apartment, it meant they were able to live in an apartment complex with much better security. It had two bedrooms, unlike their last apartment where Megan’s room was non-existent. It was all enclosed which made Kristie feel safer, and was nicer than their last place.
They stepped inside and Kristie scooped up Megan, who badly needed a diaper change and a feeding. Gray offered to help but his words were lost on Kristie, who was giggling and cooing over Megan as usual.
As he watched Kristie tend to Megan and looked around their new apartment, he thought everything had a shot at being perfect. He just had to get out of the Devil’s Advocates.
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I STEP into my steam shower, seal the door behind me, and turn on the spray. As the hot water falls over my aching muscles, the enclosed walls trap the relaxing steam in the stall. I reach for one of my fancy new aromatherapy body washes and marvel at the way my life has changed in the last month.
I’d arrived in New York City four and a half weeks ago, shell shocked and numbed by Jenny’s revelation: Robbs was the father of her unborn child, not Paul. I tried to tell myself that the news didn’t change anything, but deep down I knew the truth. If Jenny had been honest from the beginning, Paul and I would still be together. I’ve been thinking about that a lot since I arrived in the city, and I still can’t decide if that would have been a good thing or a bad thing.
The flight landed at JFK Airport at ten p.m. on a cold March night. Having had to take care of myself since the age of sixteen, I’d never had the money to visit Dallas, much less somewhere as far away as New York City. James O’Toole, my new boss, had arranged for a car to pick me up from the airport and take me to The Plaza, where I’d be staying until I found an apartment. I’d told James that I’d be happy to stay somewhere more affordable, but he’d laughed off the suggestion and insisted that I have the best. That was my first sign that life in New York would be unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
As the Town Car carried me through the city, I became so absorbed in my new hometown that I completely forgot about Paul, Jenny, and all of the drama I’d just left behind. New York had an amazing energy, and I was ready to be a part of it. As we crossed the bridge into Manhattan, I pulled out my cell phone and blocked Paul and Jenny’s numbers. I wanted to cut all ties with my old life so I could fully experience my new one. All ties that is, except for Chase.
When I arrived at the hotel that first night, a package was waiting for me at the front desk. I waited until I was alone in my elegant room before opening it. The box contained a subway pass, individual maps of each borough, an electronic planner, and an envelope. I broke the seal and found a letter and a Platinum card. The letter was from James, telling me that he’d be out of town for the next month filming the overseas finale of Kitchen Wars.
You’ve got a lot of work to get done before I get back. I’ve listed forty of the greatest restaurants in the city in the enclosed planner. I expect you to visit all of them and have critiques ready when I return home. I’ve also made several appointments for you. They are listed in the planner as well. The real estate agent will show you apartments within the budget I authorized. Use the credit card for your meals and to pay everyone else.
I’d immediately scanned through the planner; not only would I be meeting with the real estate agent, I also had meetings scheduled with a hairstylist, a personal shopper, and my new faculty advisor at The Culinary Institute of New York.
My first week in the city was an absolute nightmare. Between making it to all of my appointments and fitting in one of my assigned restaurants, I barely had time to take a breath. But on my third day, I met with the amazing Myra Owens, who showed me my dream home. It was the third apartment I looked at, and I immediately knew that I had to have it. I now live in a spacious studio; it’s modern and elegant, with hardwood floors and quartz countertops. It’s only a one bedroom, but it’s more than enough space for me. I still haven’t recovered from the shock of learning just how much James O’Toole was willing to spend to keep me happy in the city.
I lather the citrusy soap over my body and reach for the shampoo that was custom blended for my hair. Frankie, the stylist James had sent me to, was a genius blend of chemist and artist. He’d given me highlights and lowlights and then whipped up several products for me to take home. When I’d pulled out my Platinum card, he’d shaken his head.
“Mr. O’Toole has already taken care of it,” he’d told me.
Each of the personal shoppers I’d met with had said the same thing. When I’d called James and insisted that I couldn’t accept any more gifts or favors from him, he’d simply laughed.
“I’m in the limelight,” he’d explained. “Photographers follow me everywhere I go. As my apprentice, you’ll now be photographed just as much as I am. I insist that you look your best at all times. Anything less would be contradictory to my brand.”
From that point on, I hadn’t felt bad about spending his money. I ordered everything I wanted from the restaurants I visited, to the point that I often took half of it home for later. I didn’t worry about the price of the clothes I bought on Fifth Avenue, and I added enormous tips to every receipt I signed. After all, generosity had to be good for ‘the brand’.
But my four weeks of play time have run out; James flew in last night, and I have to report for my first day on the job in an hour. I turn off the water and step out onto the heated stone floor. I wrap myself in a fluffy towel and head into my closet to decide what to wear. I assume that I’ll be spending most of my day in the kitchen, covered in a chef’s coat, so I select a pair of lightweight black slacks and a designer white silk T-shirt. I put on a light layer of makeup before sliding into the clothes and blast my hair with a blow dryer. I stop with my hair still a bit damp, gather it in the middle of my head, and weave it into an intricate braid. I twist the braid into a bun, secure it with bobby pins, and pronounce myself ready for the day.
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“STATE YOUR business, old woman,” said the guard to the shrouded stranger. The stranger paused for a moment before removing the shroud. The old woman exposed her wrinkly face and then transformed her appearance. Where once stood a shrivelled old prune now stood a tall imposing figure.
“My apologies, my Lord. I
did not recognize the disguise. It is a pleasure to see you. To what do we owe the honor of your presence?” The young man bowed low at the waist as Deimos approached the entrance to the witch Helena’s fortress.
“I am here to see Helena,” Deimos nodded his greeting to the young guard. “She is expecting me I’d suspect,” he grinned.
“Yes, of course, my Lord. Please, right this way,” the guard bowed again and moved aside so Deimos could enter the long corridor.
Deimos passed the young man without any further acknowledgement and continued into the witch’s fortress.
He entered into a vast room made of stone. It was dark and dungeon-like, there were a few candles lit along the walls but most of the glow came from the grand fireplace at the far end of the room. In front of the huge fireplace was a large, high-backed red velvet chair facing on an angle toward the fire.
“Deimos, I’ve been wondering when this day would come,” Helena said in a cracked voice.
“It’s been a long time, Helena.” Deimos stood in the middle of the room, staring toward the chair.
“Indeed it has. So tell me, what is it I can do for you?” Helena asked.
“I need to know my future,” Deimos answered in a low, serious voice.
“I have told you your future,” Helena answered, annoyance building in her raspy tone.
“Yes, but that future you foretold is now the present. I need to know more.” Deimos took a few more steps toward the chair.
“There is no future to tell you. You are treading very closely at Fate’s front door.” Helena coughed and rose from her chair but still did not face Deimos.
“I’m not sure how that can be,” Deimos laughed. “I am the most powerful being on this earth. Nothing can touch me. Not even Fate,” he scoffed and puffed out his chest.
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