by Eve Black
Margie sighed, meeting Diana’s pleading gaze.
“Fine. I’ll drop it. But you’d better make me the godmother of this little bundle,” she declared, her lips in a pout.
Diana chucked, looping her arm through Margie’s.
“Of course.”
Chapter 10
The next day Diana returned to her desk after a meeting with Ayers to find a stack of books on her desk. Startled, she dropped the folio of depositions beside her laptop and stared down at the cover of the book on top.
What to Expect When You’re Expecting
She sucked in a breath.
“Margie,” she muttered, panic rising into her throat. Diana glanced up, her eyes frantically searching for anyone who could have seen the books and rightly guessed their purpose. “Fuck.” She raced to the office door and shut it, then returned to her desk and picked the book up, intending to stow it in the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet until she could find some way to smuggle it out of the building without anyone seeing it.
As she lifted it, the cover flipped open, and an inscription caught her eye.
“For the best mommy in the whole word. Love ya, girl!” It was signed, Auntie Margie, and Diana couldn’t help the smile that lifted the sides of her mouth. Lord, that woman was going to drive her to fits. What was she thinking leaving the books where they could be discovered?
What if Ayers saw them? He wasn’t the kind of boss who pried into his employees’ private lives, but she couldn’t take the chance that he’d start connecting the dots—no matter how widely spread they were.
Distracted by her thoughts, she placed the book down and picked up the next one.
Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy.
She tipped her head, rereading the title. She’d never heard of that one, not that she’d spent much time cruising Amazon.com for pregnancy books. She traced the title with a trembling finger, her thoughts racing and stalling at the same time. She’d spent the night before wearing sweat pants, her threadbare Flinstones Rock Vegas t-shirt, and comfy socks. Instead of the glass of wine she’d usually be nursing, she settled for a mug of green tea—which later, after finally looking up first-time pregnancy online, she learned was a no-no. Caffeine was on the list of banned pregnancy foods. The guilt came quickly after that, and the tears began in earnest, and then the headache from all the sobbing, but then she couldn’t take her usual headache medicine because it was basically caffeine with a hit of Advil, and so she ended up lying on the couch in her bedroom, hiding from her concerned mother, an ice pack on her forehead, while she watched on-demand episodes of A Baby Story.
As she watched the stories unfold on screen she experienced horror, terror, disgust, mystification, and then awe. She’d cried some more, then gave up staying awake. That morning, though, she couldn’t stop the images from the night before from forming; newborns wrapped in their mother’s arms, the mother’s smiling down. Love glowing from them as a beautiful beacon. The baby’s father standing near, peering down at his child with love on his face. The hope, the fear, the elation… Each father had worn a similar expression. Would David?
She had a little human being growing inside her. She would, in two hundred and sixty-six days, meet her baby. Her child. The life she created during a night of passion with a man who could reject her claim that he was the father. That’s how it usually went with men as rich and powerful as him. He probably had dozens of false paternity claims each year, and she was just another on that list—to him she would be, anyway. But hers wasn’t a false claim; she knew he was the father.
But he didn’t need to know…did he?
Of course, he needs to know. The child deserves to know both of his or her parents, even if one of those parents doesn’t give a shit.
But that wasn’t fair. She had no way of knowing what kind of father David would be. Maybe he would believe her. Maybe he’d asked for a paternity test, and since it would prove her claim, he’d welcome his baby into his life.
And that’s when the internal struggle began. Tell David and risk being called out as a liar and losing her job at his best friend’s law firm, or not tell him, and live the rest of her life a single parent. Or, she could tell him and it would all work out for the best.
Needless to say, she didn’t get much sleep, so when she finally pulled her big girl panties on and headed to work, she wasn’t even the littlest bit ready to find those books on her desk.
Blindly, she reached for her desk chair, descending into it slowly, her gaze pinned to the word “pregnancy” on the cover of the book in her hand.
A knock on her door jerked her from her troubles and she snatched the books, slammed them onto her lap, and then slid herself behind her desk to hide them.
“Come,” she called, her voice uncharacteristically wobbly.
The door opened and Janet, Mr. Ayers’s personal assistant, stuck her head inside.
“Miss Bluth,” she said, her smile as big as ever. “Mr. Ayers would like the Mikkle files.”
Offering her a smile, Diana reached across her desk and picked up the slender file folder. It was a brand-new case so there wasn’t much documentation yet. “Here you go.”
Janet took the files, eyeing Diana curiously.
“Are you alright, dear?” she inquired, her gaze softening. A woman of fifty-eight, she was nearing retirement age, though Diana didn’t think Ayers would be letting her go any time soon.
Diana’s smile faltered just a bit.
“I’m fine, just a little stressed. But nothing I can’t handle.” With lots of tears, second guessing, and elastic waistbands.
She nodded, though Diana could tell from the woman’s pinched expression that she didn’t believe her.
Janet turned to leave but then stopped.
“Are you coming to the party tonight?”
Party? It was the first she was hearing of it. “What party?”
She grinned. “Oh, it’s just an informal get together to celebrate Rick winning that ridiculous defamation case for David Brenner.”
At the sound of that man’s name Diana nearly broke into a sweat. Forcing a nonchalance and surprise into her bearing, she asked, “Defamation case?” Of course, she knew about it, it was all over, but if anyone knew details that weren’t in the news, it would be Janet.
“Uh huh. Now that it’s over I can share—” She glanced over her shoulder conspiratorially before turning back to Diana. “His ex-fiancée, some money grubbing socialite, claimed that she was pregnant with his baby in order to keep him from breaking off their engagement. He sued her for defamation. Needless to say, Rick won that case handily.”
Every word the woman spoke after the word “pregnant” didn’t seem to register in Diana’s brain. She knew all of this, but hearing it again, for some reason, turned her stomach, fear whirling in the pit of her belly.
This can’t be happening.
Diana swallowed down the rising panic, hoping her voice didn’t come out as a squeak.
“How did Mr. Ayers win?”
Janet grinned, pride drawing her shoulders back.
“He was able to prove that she’d never been pregnant and was planning to ‘lose the baby’ after her first child support check cleared.”
Diana gasped, horror rising to strike at the panic.
“That’s disgusting!” What sort of woman would do that? And poor David…what he must have gone through. “How did David—er—Mr. Brenner handle her making that claim?” She needed to know.
Janet shrugged. “According to him, he knew she was lying, of course. He claimed he used protection each time.”
Immediately, Diana lost the fight against the shudder that shot up from where the books were secreted in her lap. He’d used condoms with her as well…and look how well that worked.
Nodding jerkily, Diana commented, “But everyone knows those aren’t a hundred percent.” She was very aware she was using Margie’s words from the day before.
Janet must have heard that before because
she chuckled. “That’s true, which was why Mr. Brenner provided the defense with his medical records. Apparently, there was something in there that made her claim ludicrous.”
God…I don’t know if I want to hear this.
“What do you mean?” she asked, jumping into her own torture with both feet.
She clicked her tongue. “You didn’t hear this from me, but…apparently, Mr. Brenner had a biking accident years ago, that rendered him incapable of having children. His swimmers don’t swim so good, if the reports are true.”
Diana blinked as the floor seemed to disappear beneath her.
Checking her watch, Janet turned away, oblivious to the catastrophe she’d just unleashed in Diana’s life. “Well, I best be going. I have lots to do before tonight.”
Tonight? Oh, right. The party. The one Diana wasn’t going anywhere near.
“See you at the Incantata—eight sharp,” Janet bubbled before disappearing through the door.
Every nerve in Diana’s body began screaming at the same time, just as every blood cell began to turn to thick, black sludge.
David Brenner was sterile. But obviously not sterile—because he’d gotten her pregnant!
That word echoed in her head, banging off the walls of her brain with a clatter.
If David was medically diagnosed with sterility, then her pregnancy was beyond miraculous. First, the barrier protection of the condoms, and then the ultimate baby-proofing with the sterility—there was no way on God’s green earth that he’d believe her now. Her chest constricted, her breath pushing through a throat too choked with unshed emotion.
No. She couldn’t tell David about the baby. Considering what he’d done to his ex-fiancée when she’d claimed paternity, her chances of getting away unscathed were a trillion to one. She’d be lucky to get out of that mess with her skin intact.
And there was no way in hell she was ever stepping foot in the Serata Incantata if he was going to be there. As far as she was concerned, if she never saw David Brenner again, and it would be too soon.
Diana skipped spending the weekend with Margie; she needed time and space to think about what was happening, and what was going to happen. First, she knew she needed to tell her mother. She’d be upset at first (she was old school conservative) but then she’d dive into grandmotherhood with gusto. If anyone could help Diana take the next steps into being a single parent, it was Elizabeth Bluth. She’d married Diana’s father straight out of high school—they’d been high school sweethearts. He had a job as a mechanic, and her mother was a first-grade teacher. They didn’t make much, but they were able to support Diana and her sister, Deirdre. Diana could remember them…their love for one another, always touching, kissing, teasing. She grew up with an excellent example of what a true relationship looked like. She guesses that was one of the main reasons she’d held on to her virginity for so long; she wanted what they had.
Her father died of a heart attack six years ago, and her mother was devastated, but she didn’t let that stop her from being a super mom, taking on extra work to help Diana stay in college… But, Diana eventually dropped out because she couldn’t attend classes without feeling like she was sucking the life from her only remaining parent. So, she’d returned home, got a job as a receptionist at the mechanic’s shop where her dad had worked, and started taking online paralegal courses. Through it all, her mother was there, her biggest supporter, her wise council, the shoulder she cried on when she missed her dad.
Diana wouldn’t be where she was without her mother. And…she needed her. So much.
Stepping out of the shower, Diana dried off, catching her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Dropping the towel, she inspected myself. As of yet, she couldn’t see any external changes to her body; she was already round of hips and belly, and her breasts always looked swollen—thanks to her forty-two double Ds. Entranced, she placed her hand just over her belly button.
Beneath her fingers a little person was growing.
A little person whom she would love, support, and cherish for the rest of her life. That thought was a heady one, making bursts of color and sensation flash before her eyes before they exploded in her chest, carrying with them the tiniest ray of hope.
Hope that it would all be alright.
Diana smiled, her heart thudding. She knew she should be more scared than she was—hell, she was staring down a lifetime of late nights, endless worries, and struggling bank accounts, but she was…how could she explain it? Excited. But still a whole lot terrified.
Staring at the area of soft skin just above the thatch of blonde pubic hairs, she rubbed her belly, her gaze riveted.
A knock on her bathroom door made her jump, she grabbed for her towel, hastily throwing it over her front to hide her nakedness. She knew she was being ridiculous; no one could tell just by looking that she was pregnant. Still…the panic was there.
“Yeah?” Diana called, her voice tight.
Her mother’s voice came through the door.
“Margie’s here. I made her some coffee because she brought chocolate croissants.”
Diana fought the urge to roll her eyes because she knew why the woman was there, and Diana knew she was only pushing her because she thought Diana needed the push.
“I’ll be out in a few,” Diana called back, glancing at her reflection one last time before she relieved her bladder—something she knew would only get worse over the next several months, and when she opened the bathroom door her bedroom was empty.
Dressing in her favorite sweatpants (okay, so they were all her favorite!), a sports bra, and a loose pink t-shirt, she headed downstairs to face her best friend…and her mother. Thankfully, Deidre had stayed on campus that weekend to attend a financial stewardship conference by some money guru.
At the bottom of the stairs, the scent of dark chocolate and buttery croissant hit her nose. Damn! Her heightened mommy senses were already kicking in—one of the many changes her body would undergo over the next thirty-six weeks. That could be good or bad—but in that instance, it was more than good.
“Girl, I hope you brought enough for you to have one, because I am hungry, and I don’t plan to share!” she announced as she stepped into the small kitchen, which hadn’t been remodeled since the 1990s.
Her smile died on her face and her thoughts shrieked to a stop.
Oh, no!
Diana’s mother was holding the What to Expect book in her hands, her wounded, disappointed, shocked gaze dropping to Diana’s belly. Oh, God. She must’ve seen it on Diana’s bed where she’d left it earlier that morning. Why hadn’t she thought to hide it?
Why should I hide it? I’m not ashamed of this baby! Moreover, she was a grown ass woman. She didn’t need her mother’s approval…even though she really wanted it. Her mother was her hero, the one Diana had wanted to emulate the whole of her life, and now…
“Diana…” Her name came out like a whispered admonition.
Diana watched her mother glance down at the book again as if she couldn’t believe what she was holding. The tears hit her then, filling Diana’s eyes and then welling over.
“Oh, Momma,” she cried, and in the next moment, she was in her mother’s arms.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, sobbing into her mom’s shoulder, but the next thing she knew, she was sitting at the little dinette table, a glass of milk and a chocolate croissant sitting before her.
Margie, silent the whole time, sat on one chair, and Diana’s mom took the chair right next to her. Taking Diana’s trembling hands into hers, she squeezed, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Tell me what’s going on, honey,” she implored softly.
And so, she did.
She told her about meeting David Brenner in the office and then again in the hotel. She skipped all the more gratuitous details, but she did tell her how she left while he was still sleeping, and how he had left the next morning on a business trip. She told her how she never expected to see him ag
ain, and then she told her about the doctor’s appointment, the blood tests, and then she told her about discovering she was pregnant.
“Have you told David yet?” she asked after listening to the whole recounting.
Diana shuddered, sucking in a breath.
“I can’t,” she blubbered.
Her mom narrowed her eyes at her. “And why the hell not? He’s the father, he has as much responsibility as you do.”
Finally, Margie spoke, reaching across the table to put a hand on Diana’s arm.
“Betty…there is a complication.”
Diana’s mom didn’t bother glancing in Margie’s direction, her attention fixed totally on Diana.
“What complication?”
Margie answered for her. “She thinks he won’t believe her because they used protection.”
Snorting, Betty rolled her eyes. “I might not have used condoms all those times I had sex with your father–” Diana cringed– “Don’t look at me like that. How else did you think you or your sister got here?” Diana shrugged, refusing to think on it. “As I was saying, no form of protection is one hundred percent effective. If God wants you to have a baby, you’ll have a baby.”
Sighing, Diana leaned back in her chair. She didn’t want to burst her mother’s bubble by informing her that women without reproductive organs most certainly couldn’t have babies, no matter how miraculous, so she abstained.
Swallowing the ball of emotion forming in her larynx, Diana knew she had to tell her the rest of it.
“It isn’t just the condoms… If it were that, I would have told him anyway. Condoms rip, they slip, they expire.” She looked down at her lap where the old coffee stain on her sweatpants was the most interesting thing ever. “David Brenner had an accident years ago, and he was diagnosed as sterile. He shouldn’t be able to have children…so he won’t believe that he did with me.”