Tell Me No Secrets: Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

But there was nothing.

  For more than a day, I waited.

  I had even called my cell phone service company to make sure my phone was working. Even though I knew it was working because I had texted other people in between that time and had received responses. That was just how desperate I was.

  Even more direct than texts, I figured, were phone calls. Drumming up all my courage, I dialed his number. Every jab at the keypad felt like a stab at the heart of my fear.

  He was going to talk to me. He was going to explain himself. For good or bad, we were going to work this out.

  After another several hours of trying the direct approach, dialing and redialing his number so many times my thumb cramped, I finally had to admit to myself that he had made his answer clear. I didn’t even bother leaving a voicemail.

  I figured that after so many hello? Are you there? And You really don’t want to talk to me? texts I had sent, it would be even more pathetic to leave a spoken message.

  It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. It wasn’t even that I had gotten to tell him I was pregnant and he didn’t want the baby, which would have been bad enough, but but it was that he didn't even want to talk to me and find out what I wanted to tell him, apathy being even worse than hate, because at least with hate there was some emotion involved.

  He had made it clear by his radio silence that he wasn't interested in me or anything having to with me anymore. I supposed that included his own child.

  "It's just you and me, kid," I said, putting my hand on my belly, telling myself to face reality and move on.

  Chapter Eighteen - Logan

  I could be really tenacious. I guess I could blame it all on grandpa, his bad influence and all, but that was really only part of it. No matter what my influences, I still had my own mind and could make my own decisions.

  It was just too bad I had let so much of my life pass me by before I had figured that out. Not that I couldn't have used someone to blame. Someone or something else to point to other than my sheer bloody-mindedness; or worse, that could possibly explain what happened.

  I kept trying to call Kora. I wasn't proud of it, but I did. Dad was right, like he had so often been whether I was willing to admit it or not, but something in me kept pushing. I had resisted it for nearly two weeks.

  Doing my best to push it from my mind, I had focused on work, which had been going really well. Dad really did have some good ideas and the business was growing. We weren't making quite as much per tour but we had a lot more clients and some of them were interested in buying their own boats, too, so it evened out. Eventually it would surpass what grandpa had done.

  Not that I needed the money, really. But a petty part of me liked the idea of getting one over on granddad, especially by doing what dad had been wanting to do all along. While I didn't need the money, dad did. Grandpa had completely cut him out of his will and the business dad had helped build, leaving him with nothing.

  That was grandpa's revenge for dad daring to go against him. Dad had tried to get another job, of course, but corporate gigs weren't was plentiful as they used to be and most of the start ups wanted someone younger, which was its own, weird kind of irony.

  Eventually dad had gotten a job with a logging company, cutting down trees up north. At first, this sounded impossibly strange. Like a dog suddenly speaking in Aramaic. But it wasn't that weird, really.

  Dad had always been a big guy and pretty hands on. He was always doing all kinds of repair jobs around the house, even after he was really rich. I'd seen him use a leaf blower. It wasn't really too far between that and a chainsaw.

  Still, I was happy for him to be able to to get back to doing what he always wanted to do and be a partner in the business he had helped build again. Kristen seemed happier, too. She had gotten a promotion at her job and I didn't think the money she got from her stocks in the sailing business hurt, either. I really did just see it as her due.

  She also seemed to stop worrying about me. At least she didn't worry quite so much. And that was a good thing for all concerned.

  No matter how good things got, though, I still had a nagging feeling. Like something was missing. It wasn't just sex, either. The sex with Kora was awesome but it was obviously more than that.

  I wasn't even able to get excited by the thought of another woman. I couldn't even count the number of times I had jerked off, the thought of Kora the only thing that could get me hard.

  The thoughts didn't even have to be all that erotic. Really, just any old thought of her would turn me on. Her smile, her laugh, and yes, her body, made me feel over all warm and calm, except for my cock, which went into a state of raging desperation, needing her touch.

  I guess it was some sort of karmic penitence for how I had been in high school. Fucking so many girls but ignoring the one I really wanted, when I should have gotten with her much earlier. Then treating her like shit when I'd finally gotten a chance with her.

  Not on the mountain, as that had been her call and her right. But during my college break. She was clearly willing and ready, but I was so scared of things I had no real clue about that I had literally pushed her away.

  Though it was far too late, I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if it had happened then. If I had realized what was going on. That Kora had finally gotten the courage to lose her virginity and was trying to give me what she thought I wanted.

  What if I had fucked and deflowered her then? Would we have stayed together? Would we be happily married with kids by now?

  It was impossible to know for sure of course but it was still a nice thought. That maybe I wasn't irrevocably self-centred and awful.

  If only.

  If only I had been able to see what was right there, staring in my face. While doing her best to suck my cock. I think it might have been love.

  I got out my phone and dialed her number. It went right to a message saying that the number was no longer in service. Certain I had gotten it wrong, I found her number on my contacts list and did that way. I got the same message.

  The same would be true for the texts, so there was no point in trying that. Something I tried to remind myself of as I tried that anyway, of course getting a message not sent alert. I brought the phone back up and dialed the servants’ quarters.

  "Sarah, bring the car around please."

  It was nearly six, so Kora would likely be home from work. My knees shook as the limo moved through the late rush hour traffic, the few stragglers left over from the main event. There were always a few.

  I had written the building number down on my phone. I didn't have the apartment number but it was a controlled entrance anyway. Rich as I was, there were limits to what I could do. Even billionaires didn't really have the ability to just pop up anywhere at anytime, like some seemed to believe. Rich as we may be, teleportation technology was still a quite elusive thing.

  There was no tenants’ list next to the buzzer. Instead, I had to press the hashtag key for the on-screen directory and scroll down to the Es. No Evans. I checked twice.

  Had she really moved just to avoid me?

  I tapped the breaks on my ego before things got too far. Yes, she had obviously moved but there was no reason to think that it was because of me. Or at least because she was avoiding me. It was fairly safe to assume that she had other things going on in her life.

  "Any luck?" Sarah asked, as I got into the back.

  "I don't believe in luck," I said, getting a bottle of Irish stout from the mini fridge.

  "Right, I forgot," Sarah said.

  "I'll let it slide," I said, taking a sip.

  "Where to now?"

  "Suicide Notes."

  Suicide Notes was the only record store in town that stocked vinyl in any significant way. The big box stores did too, of course, cashing in on what they saw as a trend. But they didn't have anything that was more than two years old, which was fine if you liked that kind of thing, or cost less than $50.
<
br />   I could afford it. Of course I could. I could literally buy the store if I wanted to. It was the principle of the thing. I firmly believed in supporting small businesses. Especially when they were awesome.

  I was usually pretty discerning when it came to records. Even though the term "collector" tended to set my teeth on edge. Not today, though. I was on what could be considered a binge, taking two or three of everything from my favorite sections.

  "Wow," said the clerk, as I hauled the tower of records up to counter. "Did you win the lottery?"

  "Something like that." I said.

  The records made an audible thump on the wooden counter as I set them down.

  I hurried to pay or them as quickly as I could.

  "Don't expect me to help you in with those," Sarah said, when I got back to the limo, as I set the stack of records across the seat opposite mine.

  "Not at all; just open the doors for me."

  "Aye, aye."

  With Sarah's help on door duty, I got the records into the parlor.

  "I'll go park the limo," Sarah said, heading back out.

  I could see her smirk, despite her attempts to hide it. I didn't really mind. It really was funny, for a particular perspective. A solid testament to my obsession manifest on the coffee table.

  Slowly, I put myself to the task of putting the new records in their proper place in my carefully designed filing system that made the Dewey Decimal system look chaotic.

  When it was done, I looked over at my handiwork, feeling an odd sense of pride. I thought of the times I had brought Kora in here. Three in all and what had happened after, in one case, in there.

  I could feel a swelling in my pants. I did my best to ignore it. There was really no good that could come of it. It was kind of like torture, to want her so bad but only have my thoughts of her and my own hand.

  Chapter Nineteen - Logan

  Pouring out a Vodka Gears at the mini bar counter, trying to not to think about how frequently I’d been making them these days, I strolled back over to my record collection, or as close to strolling as I could get, while sipping from the tumbler.

  Pulling a record from its spot, I went over to the turn table and slid the metal spite through the little hole. Gently setting the arm, I put the needle down in the first groove as it went spinning by.

  I stood listening for a moment, sipping my Vodka Gears, listening to the melodies,

  feeling the rhythm section in the hardwood floor. I casually put my other hand in my pocket, finding the Stanley knife I had put there earlier in the day during work.

  I had been in the store room opening a new shipment of life-jackets. I must have forgotten. Still listening and sipping, I went over to one of the chairs and sat down.

  Eventually, I pulled my phone out of my inside pocket and carefully, with a shaking thumb, dialled Kristen's number.

  It took five rings for her to pick up.

  That was okay. I had some time.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, dumpling," I said.

  "Hi," she said, flatly.

  "How's my baby sister?"

  "I'm not that much younger," she pointed out, having gotten a bit prickly about the baby sister thing since growing up.

  "Touché," I said.

  "What's up?"

  "Have you heard from Kora recently?" I asked.

  "Sure."

  "She changed her number," I said.

  "Yes," Kristen said.

  "And her address," I said.

  "Indeed," Kristen confirmed.

  "Do you know what the new ones are?"

  "The number, yeah," Kristen said.

  "I need help. I-I can't -"

  "I'll try but I don't want to drive Kora away. Not now that we are finally back together."

  "That's what dad said, too," I said.

  "He is pretty smart, you know," Kristen said, softening.

  "Yeah."

  "Was it his idea to give me a quarter of the company?"

  "No, it was mine. He supported it though. It's no big deal. I still have half of the shares I wanted, after I gave dad his half."

  "Why?"

  "It's your due. You were his grandkid, too. You worked as hard as I did at the sailing business, especially at the beginning, before he started pushing you out."

  "I got those paintings and candelabras.'

  "But you weren't an heir. He shortchanged you and cut dad out. And I let him. I should have said something. I'm just putting things right…"

  "You really couldn’t have known -"

  "Kristen?" I said, starting to feel light headed.

  "Yeah?"

  "How would you feel about having fifty percent?"

  "I don't -"

  "I need help," I said again, softer this time.

  "Logan?"

  "Yes, dumpling?"

  "What are you listening to?"

  "'Don't Fear the Reaper.'"

  "I'll be there as soon as I can; just hold on, okay?"

  Chapter Twenty - Kora

  I squeezed out more lotion from the dispenser strapped to my hip. One of the key skills required of a masseuse.

  I was learning a lot in the training course. I had worked with masseuses, in the sense that we were both in the same building for the last couple of years. I thought I knew what they did. I thought it was easy. I had no idea.

  If it wasn't for Erik helping me, I probably would have flunked out months ago. He really was a good friend. It was nice to know there was still someone who cared.

  I moved around the table, being very careful of my baby bump. I had knocked it against the edge of the table a few times when I was just starting as a trainee at the spa. The doctor had done an ultrasound— I was taking absolutely no chances— and said there was no harm done but that I should be a bit more careful.

  So I was. Extremely careful, often giving myself a good deal more room than I needed when moving around the table. Sometimes only having my fingertips touching the client.

  I also had to be mindful of my boobs, which had indeed gotten bigger than they were before, with the added bonus of also making them extremely sensitive. I'd had to stop wearing a bra, getting special permission to wear a black shirt rather than the standard-issue white.

  It had been a pretty easy pregnancy so far, all in all. The morning sickness had hit hard but didn't stay around long. My change of diet focusing almost exclusively on crackers and ginger ale no doubt helped.

  The baby hadn't started moving yet but everyone I asked said it would soon. I was five months pregnant and not sure what she was waiting for when it came to starting to move around in there enough for me to feel it, but I could wait, even though I was really looking forward to it.

  I finished with the client I was massaging. And turned to wipe off my hands as he got up and put on his pants. I left as he finished dressing, going out into the waiting room.

  "Kora?"

  "Fuck."

  I didn't actually say that, but I sure did think it. I didn't know what else I was supposed to do when I saw Kristen sitting there, pretty as a picture.

  I hadn't seen her for months. Not since she had called me on the new number I had given her in confidence and with the understanding we had agreed upon, and mentioned Logan's name. I had hung up and applied to have my number changed again, glad I hadn't told her where I had moved.

  "I-I didn't -"

  "What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to stay professional.

  "I'm waiting for a massage appointment. I've been coming here for months. After I'd called to make sure you didn't work here anymore. As a receptionist, that is. I didn't know that you were a masseuse here now. I swear.”

  "Why would you?” I asked her, realizing that fate had brought us together again. “Sorry, that was mean of me to imply. You deserve the truth, if nothing else. I just really think it is more important to focus on my future rather than the past."

  "I understand that. Honestly, I do," Kristen said, getting up and
coming over.

  I backed a way without thinking about it. She stopped, holding up her hands as though in surrender. She even took a step back but didn't go and sit back down. Typical parter tenacity.

  "I'm sorry our friendship didn't work out this time either. Especially because it was for basically the same reason. I hate to think that -"

  She stopped catching sight of my baby girl bump. She stared at it for a long moment as though hypnotized. I covered it with both hands protectively, turning away from her.

  "A-are you pregnant?" she asked.

  "I-"

  "Does Logan-"

  I didn't hear the rest. I had started running away. It wasn't professional but that was what I did. I didn't care about getting fired or whatever happened to trainees when they went off the rails.

  My stomach heaved and I felt the need to vomit. I went out the back exit and got in my car, pounding down ginger ale until the feeling subsided.

  Fumbling the CD case from the glove compartment, I searched for the relaxation program Erik had recommended when my pregnancy became too obvious to ignore. He had said it had worked wonders for his wife, both during her pregnancy and afterwards.

  I pulled the disk out of the plastic sleeve and slid it into the car's CD player, starting the car up first. Turning on the heater up to full. One of the downsides to pregnancy was that it played merry hell with my core temperature.

  The engine ran and the CD spun and I breathed deep and regular, trying to banish all thoughts of Logan from my head. I wasn't going to think about how much I still loved him. Or how much it hurt.

  I refused to acknowledge how much a large part of me wished we could be together. For the baby, if nothing else. I also didn't think about what had happened. The rejection. The hurt.

  I was determined not to get caught up in the past. My mind, betraying me again, started thinking about the present-ish. The amazing sex. The thoughtful gift to his sister, my best friend no less. The fact that the innocent life growing inside of me was part of Logan.

  I forced myself to focus on the CD. The calming sounds. The gentle, affirming voice, punctuating with the firm, ringing taps of a singing bowl. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.